A Face...

A face which can never be forgotten, a face which is not common, A face which changes your line of thought and the face which makes you happy and make you live your life .
Well, i am not good in remembering faces like a few of my friends who are too good in it, but this face remains still.
I saw this face many many years ago, say the previous ke previous decade, so this face was not used to play-station or CN or other things introduced by this present century. The face was neither handsome nor beautiful but it was the cute.
The person who held that face was not aware of the world that lay ahead but was the master of its own world. The face looked innocent but was not so. The face looked naughty for its age but was not so. It was mischievous and all its mischief were forgiven because no one believed that the face can create such things too. The face owned the people , people obeyed did what it wanted to. A single drop on the face and lo! it was enough to bring the world down.
It was young but its heart was a bit way ahead. Now when i remember the face, my line of thoughts change.
It was bad as well as good but its goodness was so pure that its bad-ness can be ignored because the face was too ignorant of things which it did.
Thinking about the face, i remember Ruskin Bond's lines. Well, i couldnt find those lines but its explanation is as follows-

The boy’s attention was caught by the face of a ‘bright boy’.
 This boy waved out to him from the window of a passing train.
 The poet took a great liking to him and for many years, looked for him wherever he went.
Throughout his life, the poet experiences such loneliness that he keeps returning to the railway
cutting and keeps searching for the face ‘in cities and villages’ and in ‘crowds at distant places’.

The poet searches for the face throughout his life but i my case i know , that face is never going to return. Whether the face has taken its face off the earth or has the face gone hidden behind various masks which we wear everyday, i dont know. But i know the face will not return.
The face was fresh as the morning dew.. cute as a few days old pup.
 The eyes, ohh god! as big as blackberries and as bright as a so-so watts bulb...
bright as if seen something dearer to life...
Its teeth were the most beautiful one.. shiny white and small looking like pearls...
 The look remains the same the whole day.
The voice as sweet as honey always talking in a sing-song manner
and the dialect, ohh... nothing can be sweeter than that in the whole world.
The cute, the cuddly, the chubby, always happy, always smiling face cannot be forgotten.

I wish the face came back...
I wish...