Whose story would I tell you now? No one you know, or maybe yourself, and sometimes I don’t even know:
He was standing on the stage trying to adjust his microphone for a very long time with intervals of annoying beeping of his microphone, so I got distracted for a long time thinking about the deep maroon velvet curtains with my worn out notebook and pen on my lap. My thought went far away with those curtains and I was wondering about the journey of those curtains and how they reached to this country and how many workers spent time working on it, we all have a journey of many people walking in and out of our lives, don’t we? So do the objects we see.
Suddenly, my senses came back to where I was and I was aware of the cold AC above me, then I realized that everyone was looking at my direction, he was waiting for me to start journaling so he can begin giving his speech.
He sounded different, and the way he stood was different as well, but I didn’t dwell on that much.
“You are all vulnerable, all of you…” He said after clearing his throat.
I have always known he wasn’t good at introductions in spite his brilliant mind.
“You think it’s not okay to be so, so you conceal it until you slowly start to vanish and become nothing but a human form of something, you reach to that point right after you realize you’ve been choking on pain, that’s when you swallow it, and your blood becomes toxic, so you choose to ignore it, and try to live your life that way, but it never works out.”
Everyone seemed so annoyed by him and a strange vibe took over the atmosphere. They didn’t show up to “globalization and it’s discontents” to hear this. It seemed to me like he was guided from a faraway galaxy for his soul to finally awaken in public, and in front of all those strangers.
“I’ve been avoiding my wife before bed so I can comfortably cry myself to sleep for almost 3 years now. And I’ve been avoiding her because I was taught that this world has no place for the vulnerable, especially us, men.”
I just knew it; I knew he would tell me that he never felt as liberated after his talk, and the emergence of his shadows and light created a wonder man of him, and I knew everything that was going on his mind before he shared it with me, because I witnessed the full caterpillar’s transformation of his heart.
I wasn’t listening to what he was saying because I was anticipating what he was about to say and I didn’t catch up to what he said last, but before he got off the stage he said,
“… And you’re probably thinking my agent would post an article for me tomorrow apologizing on my behalf and explaining how stressed out I am that I had been on pills, but in fact, I have never been this sober, and I will never be the same again…”
I was looking for my camera in my handbag, I wanted to capture that moment and send it to him because everything was perfect the way it was that moment and everyone who knew him would agree with me, and that made me remember how everything is perfect the way it is, the moment it happens, and how everything happens the way it should just like earth’s rotation and the moon’s strict orbit, everything is happening in the right time for us even when we think it’s too dark, too soon or too late. Everything makes sense; our explosions and our exposure to people who bring darkness in our lives and those who force us to go back to our center in a way or another-everything makes sense.
But then I realized;
His light was too beautiful to capture.
© 2014 ALIA SULTAN