As a verb, to muse is to consider something thoughtfully. As a noun, it means a person — especially a woman — who is a source of artistic inspiration.
Can you fall in love with a girl on a hoarding?
At first, it appeared to be simply carnal as she was naked as the day she was born posing provocatively and teasingly
There was no vulgarity despite her nudity
It was almost art
It started as a joke
Each time I passed the intersection (where the signals always turned red, the Lucifer intervention probably) I paused to drink the picture in
My obsession spread, thanks to the advertising type that I am, and everyone started ogling at her citing my name in defense
Did she become my muse? Probably yes.
Was she the most beautiful? Certainly not. But she had an aura or manna or whatever you call it.
Ah ! Clever you, you noticed the past tense in the last statement.
Last Sunday I was driving to TESCO and stopped at the signal, which was red as usual, and turned to my left to speak to my muse.
Yeah! We reached a stage where we were having regular conversations, unheard by others.
She was gone.
Thankfully there was no travesty of another one adorning the sacred place.
The wall was empty reflecting my mind perfectly.
With each drive past where my muse delved, I apprehensively sneak a look
I do not know what am I expecting!
Will she be back in a new avatar?
Will there be another one? Heavens forbid!
All I know is this – that she in her old form will not be back – the probability of that is almost zero.
So what am I going to do?
I will continue to drive past that way hoping that the wall remains blank, which is unlikely given the commercial considerations of the vantage point.
One day the place will be tarnished by a new apparition. I need to see that as an act of catharsis.
After that, I will change my route.
So long ! My Muse !