“For indeed it is not the eyes that grow blind, but it is the hearts,
which are within the bosoms that grow blind,” (Quran 22:46).
Hello, how do you do?
I must’ve been watching (and reading) too many fairy tales because my thoughts are permitting the idea of unrealistic happy endings. It all begins with a wish or a dream so they say. How can you however not be hopeful and wishful for that one romantic dance? I’m already visualizing a tall and gallant gentleman donned in soft almost disappearing pink shirt and dark grey suit sweeps me off my feet as we speak. Then reality crashes in to an extent where life detoxification becomes a scheduled cycle.
Blame Beauty & the Beast and Anastasia.
A few weeks back, Shari and I were riding the bus home when a corpulent person whose gender was a question to me sat across our seats. As my mind wanders the possibility of her wellbeing – which reflected poorly on the physical – she took out a couple of photos that became the answer to her gender enquiry. “Is that your daughter? If you don’t mind me asking,” I had to ask. Another photo was of her before she lost her hair due to an unfortunate accident. She even bears a scar on the skin, which dents the right side of her cranium. She was however calm and collected as she spoke about that ill-fated incident. I was amazed when she giggled at how much of a klutz her bloodline could be thus such accident is fairly anticipated.
The misconception of presenting ourselves in a handsome manner has leveled up to a point where we become prodigal. I personally tend to judge a book (solely) by its cover before eliminating prospective causes of imperfection – subjective as it may be. Yet the recurring realization of who I am to criticize lessens and perhaps humbles down judgments. The fact that she seemed happier than most privileged people in this world makes the random tête-à-tête overwhelming. Now that the ramification of my to-be-bothered-about list is somewhat final, I’m repainting the shady wall with less misconstrued acquaintance and more believing company.
“Well I’m still alive and I’ve nothing to complain about.” I thanked her experience but I thanked her contentment most.
