Moments of Capture

The evening sun was slowly sinking itself to sleep when my feet touched the soft sand that was lazily lounging across the dry half of the beach; the other half drowned I presumed, since I could only 'sea'.

There still was enough time to click a picture of the colourfully laid out sky at the horizon, magnified at the point where it met the sea. 

The herd of clouds above, as usual, seemed to be moving slowly in search of new pastures. So determined, they don't even stop for the night. Or they do, after everyone else is asleep, I presumed, again. 

So I brought out my fancy phone and focused the 12mp camera onto the coloured horizon and clicked about 4 shots. I then quickly opened my popular photo-sharing app, struggled to choose the perfect filter, struggled to think of the perfect caption and struggled to get the perfect hashtags. Finally! I uploaded and it attained 56 likes in 10 minutes, what an achievement. Successful day indeed. Or was it? 

Because something had me startled. Maybe it was the sea opening my inner eyes, to see. 

So I stuck my phone in my pocket, stood up and began to walk back slowly, waving goodbye to the waves. And then it dawned upon me unlike the dusk, as I stopped and embarrassingly grinned to myself, that while I was engrossed in trying so hard to capture the moment... the moment itself, in the end, was hardly captured. 

The irony.

Seasoned Flavour

We met after years and I gladly listened as she poured her longing heart out to me. As she spoke, I carefully gazed into her hurting eyes with all the possible empathy that I had remaining..

Her hair was left down, uncared for; soft and cold, her ears were deliberately hidden. The evening breeze blew through her slowly-fading hair, gently as though caressing them with the richness of the flowers that bloomed around her, illuminating every lost strand. Her naturally radiant eyes transcended mere comparison, wearied and tired but not yet consumed. They warmly glanced back at me with refinement I couldn't fathom. The perseverance that they held, gave strength to her distinct beauty.

Gradually reformed and seasoned, through all the bitter and sour experiences that life could throw at her, she sits matured and peaceful. She is no longer the feeble little girl that once walked down the street, teased and abused by "rash bullies" double her size, or coerced into a life filled with filth and involuntary subjugation.

She is now the strong young lady who faced the darkness of reality, embraced it and then conquered it; moving towards the light that she always believed in..  As she smiles slowly back at me, I see the rays of the setting-sun enveloping and cuddling her weariness away; like when a well seasoned guitar is strummed gently, the melody that resounds from the harmonized strings is just magically refined and beautiful.

 The guitar that was once misused, neglected and broken, transformed into an instrument of grace, wonder and joy. And even though her journey is still being molded and refined into perfection, what I saw as we bid goodbye, was her radiating elegance, bringing to the world a profound sense of love; inevitably leaving a sweet trail of flavour wherever she passes...

... As she did for me.