First of all I am guilty of stalking someone's profile from her latest display picture to the very first. I don't know why. Or I better put it as, you know why. It sort of feels good. Its amazing how our lives have been captured in photos on Facebook. Especially for 90s kids, it holds a good part of their lives. Through this poem I wish to take you on a journey. Yes, we are travelling through a girl's life through photos. Before that, I give you a sneak peak. There are a few characteristic features of a girl's portfolio. There would certainly be a picture of her farewell, one of her graduation with scholar's hat (if she could), one mirror selfie (chances double if she owns an iPhone), one picture clicked by her DSLR friend, one with shades (at night) and one downloaded from the web (a recent survey suggested, half the world's teenagers once looked like Selena Gomez). Okay, just before you start with the journey. If you're a guy, without letting anyone know, open your crush's profile and browse through her profile pictures (thank me in the comment section). If you are a girl, you might like to see your own profile pictures and appreciate how you have evolved over the years. Trust me it is a wonderful experience (ignoring a few awkward, very awkward pictures).

I admire it for a while..

Her hair shine and shimmer,

Her face bears a gentle smile..

Her dress has color, glamour

and translucence..

Her neck, wrists are glorified,

with thoughtfully chosen adornments..

She has her own new style,

Her eyes too have got the guile..

She is so perfect, I am dazed,

Was she always such, I'm amazed..

As I browse her pictures,

From today to the end..

I see her hair getting messier,

Her dresses stupidly matched..

She wore shades at night,

She captioned like mad..

To my surprise, 

There was a picture with her dad..

I traveled back in her time,

From farewell saree to her cartoon tee..

From slinky shorts to salwaar kameez,

From probably her boyfriend to teddy bear..

The resolution kept getting worse,

The images better..

In her yesteryear,

I wish I had met her..

She was less sexy,

And more beautiful, adorable..

I wonder some eccentric fellow,

Would have had a genuine crush on her..

She now has men lined behind her,

With their aura and appeal to entice her..

And wish I could tell her..

Accept that eccentric lover,

Because with your messed up hair,

Mismatched clothes,

Undone eye brows,

Silly names,

Roadside gluttony,

Meaningless banter,

Wild laughter,

He loved you..

He loved you,

When you were you.

If you felt a connection between words I said and your life, you might like to put this poem on the timeline of one you loved or the one who loved you in your yesteryear. It might bring a wave of nostalgia and a genuine smile :)