You

autori-912-DVOraK-Frantisek-Dama-s-ruzi

You. The most abstract of all senses in my solipsistic existence. The entire English vocabulary will fall short to describe just your face, let alone the rest of you. Perhaps I have to invent new words. Or borrow heavily from French and other romantic languages for words like “sillage” and “soigné”. But humans are unreasonable, irrational creatures. So, just like the physicist who aims to detangle the “antimatter retrocausality phenomenon” or the meta-physicist who attempts to raise the “immaterial souls of vegetables from the obsolescence”, I will rummage through my paltry intelligence to try and elucidate the magical illusion of your face as I know it.

Your face. Framed in the lush locks of tsunami waves of glitter. Radiant, vivacious. Your face is like a thousand years in waiting. Like the dance of rain on the parched sands of Atacama desert. The persistence of memory. The utterance of sleep. The silence of pebbles. The triumph of the wind. You face is the carnival of all my senses.

It can be costly to look at your face. I have learned this lately. Do you know that famous painting called “Dutch Proverbs” by Bruegel? It seems simple, peasant-worthy. But it slowly drags you in. And it starts to reveal its secrets, layer by layer. Soon enough it begins to whisper in your ears. You never know when it hits you. But when it does it hits you like a sledgehammer. And you are trapped forever in the painting. Or the painting is trapped forever in you. That, in simple words, is your face. Forgive me for being cheesy but darling your face is the ‘Hotel California’ that one can never leave.

Pieter_Brueghel_the_Elder_-_The_Dutch_Proverbs_-_Google_Art_Project

It’s been a while since I have been trying to analyse your beauty. Why are you so irresistible? Well, it seems I am losing the plot. The subject of my analysis is so overwhelmingly, breathtakingly beautiful that sanity had to be sacrificed to accommodate expression and any semblance of reasoning must be abandoned. When it comes to you, I’m in the twilight zone.

The universe is expanding since the Big Bang. It’s been expanding like a giant balloon. The wise men of Physics say that the universe may stop expanding at some point before it collapse back into the Singularity where it all started. What they do not know is, why?

Well, I have that answer. It is YOU!

That’s right. The entire universe, the 91 billion light-years of diameter full of constellations and intergalactic space and beyond exists just because of YOU! Can you imagine that? Since 14 billion years the universe is constantly changing, evolving, creating and destroying supernovas, black holes, planetary systems and more importantly the Earth and its Earthlings, only so that you could be born one day. The journey of life from the first primordial prokaryotic cell in a pre-historical abysmal ocean through the amphibians, the dinosaurs and the mammals to the final chapter of humankind was to percolate this perfection. A seemingly never-ending filtration process to yield the essence of universe that is you. And the universe will seize to be the way we know it when you seize to exist. It will start to collapse back in time creating antimatter and reverse time till it implodes into the singularity, only to start all over again through another Big Bang to recreate you. You are the equilibrium point of this eternal pendulum called time and space. You are the climax of our universe!

Dostoyevsky wrote that beauty is mysterious and terrible. Because God and Devil are fighting in the realm of beauty, and the battlefield is the heart of a man. How did he know this? He never met you. Maybe he was prophesying my state of being! Yes, I know how it feels to look at the beauty of your face. It is at once calming as a soft rain and unbearable as a shot of toothache; a feeling that leaves me no choice but to howl through the hollows of heartache. It leaves me in bloody ruins, then scoops up my tattered remains in tenderness. It’s impossible to resist a glance at your face even though I know I’ll die a little, every time I do so. Even at my most sleep deprived state, a glimpse of you makes my mind run faster than light. You are the melodrama in Othello, the minimalism in Godot, the pain of Neruda, the joy of Jane Austen. You are the prelude in a Baroque opera, the ‘Ever-after’ in a Bavarian fairy tale.

But amidst all this effervescence do I sense a colossal sadness? Behind those blue-grey doe eyes do I see a palace of pain? The flower-bud lips, do they hold back tales of tragedies? The carefree smile, does it hide an army of shadows?

We are ruins within ruins, like fractured reflections on a shattered mirror. You are the stardust in the afterglow of heaven’s destruction and I am the last gladiator in the middle of a crumbling Colosseum risking another century. Do you often wonder if anybody would notice the wailing of your Mandrake flowers before they die out in the abyss of the moon? Well I lock myself down in the cellar, shut my eyes and ears and scream. And yet your echoes still shadow my trail like a ghost in a barren island.

I don’t know where we are heading or what we are destined to. Life is a gamble and all we got is a roll of the dice. But of all the possibilities that lie ahead in the life hereafter, escaping you isn’t one.

NOTE: The scientific inaccuracies of Physics in this piece (especially about the fate of the universe) is employed for the sake of an artistic expression.

Featured Art: 1. Lady With A Rose, 1901 by Franz Dvorak
2. Netherlandish Proverbs, 1559 by Pieter Bruegel the Elder

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