Taj Mahal

He waited there under that dark banyan tree surrounded on both sides by open land. It was dark already and he was charmed  by the green eyes. He could see everything around, the squirrel that ran close to his legs reminded him of her walk, the half dried leaves reminded him of how autumn was behind, the green fresh leaves reminded him of his present, the new beginning. The slightly orange looking sky without the sun reminded him of how easy life could be. An old woman still worked in the farm all alone and the three kids played at a distance. Water in the canal around five hundred meters from him. On the other side of the canal was the Taj reminding him of how romantic his life had been recently.
This place was one kilometers from Agra, where he lived. Every day he had waited here at this time to meet her. The enchantress. They would sit there under the banyan tree for a couple of hours before leaving back. He knew she would come. They had been here on every single day for the last one month. Deep inside he was happy. That excitement to meet her was still there even after so many meetings. That feeling of joy, victory and possession ran in his blood. He was thrilled.
It got dark. The orange tinge in the sky had gone. His excitement started turning to anxiety. Suddenly no one was there. The old woman was nowhere to be seen, the kids had all gone. There was nothing but silence. His cycle resting by the banyan tree seemed like dead. Suddenly the banyan tree seemed too old. The leaves looked black and the half dried leaf reminded him of dead leaves! He wanted to run.
He rode on his cycle to the canal. That is where her brother had once seen her with him. It was a silent stream of water. Absolute silence. His life came to a still. He was robbed. He touched her face. She lay there in blood, a dagger in her. Her shirt was red in blood. Her fingers bled. Her eyes looked into his and said nothing. She couldnt move but he could feel her happy in his arms. The eyes closed slowly. He was helpless. He would not leave her. Tears flew from his eyes. They were red. The darkness of the night could not hide the colour of his eyes. He knew this had to end. Blood soaked his shirt, even the stars were not there to weep with him that night. The moon hid under the clouds, as if the whole world had betrayed him. He pulled the dagger out of her and brought slit his wrist, he couldnt feel the pain but saw gush of blood flow through it. The dome of the Taj looked dark, the moon light that kept it visible betrayed it.
The next morning the sun shone on the Taj the way it always did as if to remind that they lived on forever.