The truth in the eyes
Today i saw a gorgeous babe in an ad. I recollected that the same babe was in another ad last week. There was something special about the girl.
So i took the two ads and I checked what is so special about the girl.
She was innocent looking. Neither old to be called a woman, nor young to be called adolescent.
There was something serene about her. A relaxed look. An easy way of staying as the individual.
There was no yearning to show that "I exist". There was no expression that says "Look at me".
(The look-at-me expression is usually assosciated with people who are not in peace with their self.)
Her expression seemed to say " Ok. I am here. So whats the big deal about it? Why are looking at me like this?"
But then there was something else in her. She didnot evoke any sexual feeling. That is out of question. Then I thought; may be, its the serene look of hers. I looked at her and well, she didnot appear to be serene. Then what?
I looked at her eyes. It is said that eyes is the window to the self. What does those eyes say to me?
I looked at her eyes, till I could feel nothing but her eyes looking at me. She was looking at me on that instant. Whatever is in her was for me to see and understand. And shejust looked nervous. It was more of a feeling of, "Look Mr. I am posing for this snap for I-dont-know-how-long. So, just go ahead with it."
Her breath was shallow. "Am I doing this correclty." And then another part says, "This is not the first time I am posing for a photo. SO what's the big deal in it?" "This cushion is soft. I should get something like this for my home too." "Is it what the cameraman wanted me to express?"
I am as innocent of all these raptures as a young duckling following its siblings. No thought is wasted on this and that side. Life justs flows its way through me, leaving me unspoken, unseen, unheard, and utterly non-existant.
So i took the two ads and I checked what is so special about the girl.
She was innocent looking. Neither old to be called a woman, nor young to be called adolescent.
There was something serene about her. A relaxed look. An easy way of staying as the individual.
There was no yearning to show that "I exist". There was no expression that says "Look at me".
(The look-at-me expression is usually assosciated with people who are not in peace with their self.)
Her expression seemed to say " Ok. I am here. So whats the big deal about it? Why are looking at me like this?"
But then there was something else in her. She didnot evoke any sexual feeling. That is out of question. Then I thought; may be, its the serene look of hers. I looked at her and well, she didnot appear to be serene. Then what?
I looked at her eyes. It is said that eyes is the window to the self. What does those eyes say to me?
I looked at her eyes, till I could feel nothing but her eyes looking at me. She was looking at me on that instant. Whatever is in her was for me to see and understand. And shejust looked nervous. It was more of a feeling of, "Look Mr. I am posing for this snap for I-dont-know-how-long. So, just go ahead with it."
Her breath was shallow. "Am I doing this correclty." And then another part says, "This is not the first time I am posing for a photo. SO what's the big deal in it?" "This cushion is soft. I should get something like this for my home too." "Is it what the cameraman wanted me to express?"
Every person is a mixture of emotions.
Its a boiling cauldron in which cognitons are dumped; some from one jar, some from another, and others still from yet another.
These cognitons just buzz around from here to there. Some pop up, others just play around in the depths. Just because none have poped up doesnt mean that they dont exist and one is completely peaceful. And just because many are there coming up, doesnt also imply that one is confused.
Its all about seeing through things that are beneath: and shutting eyes from seeing things.
The superficial is so peaceful that it hides the inherent mirage of cognitive particles. The abundance is simplified by our inherent inability to iron out the crusts and troughs. Its our inability to percieve that leads to the ironed out view of simplicity.
As Richard Bach said in Illusions
The Simplest Things are the Most Profound.
I am as innocent of all these raptures as a young duckling following its siblings. No thought is wasted on this and that side. Life justs flows its way through me, leaving me unspoken, unseen, unheard, and utterly non-existant.
Labels: General
posted by Murali | 20:27
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