"Beauty pageants are pointless. They are overrated."
"So what is your idea of beauty then?"
"Anything that compels me to keep looking at it. My mother, sister, best friend, grandmother, the principal of my school. They're the most beautiful women I've ever come across."
"Well, they're the ones you love.. adore.. You're supposed to find them beautiful."
"Okay. There's this woman with a child on her back, and a sack of bricks on her head. And I see her daily, she has the most beautiful face. And then there's an old man I meet everyday at the bus stop, he waves at me and I wave back. There are millions."
"You know there could still be things you're not thinking of. I mean beauty pageants exist for a reason."
"There could be. But these people I'm talking about, there's a certain honesty about them.. and integrity. It reflects on their faces. Each one of them. And I'm not capable of thinking beyond those things. So, to be precise, beauty pageants are pointless to me."
"It's just as if you don't want to be convinced."
"I don't. I can never be convinced of being wrong when I'm not."
"You're a snob."
"I know that, darling. You're beautiful when you make that face."
"Don't you flirt with me now."
"I'm just being plain honest."
"Aren't you charming!"
"Well, that sounds alarming."
"Shut up."
"Okay. I'll shut up. You, need to open up."
"You never tell me that I'm beautiful. And you never understand that I need you to tell me."
"I just did, few minutes back."
"That was you making fun of me."
"I never joke about finding you beautiful."
"Really? I don't believe you. You never sound like it."
"Have you ever caught me staring at you with my eyes popping out, literally?"
"Yes."
"And what was the first thing I told you about my idea of beauty?"
I cannot help but blush. And he keeps his gaze fixated at me. I know we're in it for long.
