Veiled BeautyA Story by Mirna Understanding the beauty of God. “Isn’t it crazy?” he asked, after dapping his tongue in hot tea. “What?” “The world.” The words came out of him like autumn leaves floating within the air �" beautiful and calmly. “What about the world?” His head tilted towards the window, and began to swallow the beauty seen outside. “It’s full of secrets.” I didn’t know what to answer back. The autumn leaves exiting from his mouth are far more beautiful and gentle than my coarse, brittle tree branches exiting from mine. And so I just nodded, pretending to understand. “Have you ever known the meaning behind a bird’s tune?” he asked. “No. How could one find that out?” His head was still glued to the window. I never knew what he saw that captivated him as much. There were just trees, skies and birds. Nothing unusual. Though, he looked at them as if they were. “Have you ever known the language of nature? Of the stars and the moon?” “I hope you realize that your questions have no answer.” He looked down, and then took another sip from his tea. Everything he did was done with emotion-it was extraordinary. I didn’t understand how one could be so connected with nature and feelings to this extent. But I loved it. “We don’t know the meaning behind a bird’s tune, yet we know it’s beautiful. We don’t know what language nature speaks, but we are sure it’s beautiful. “ I looked at him. Then nodded, still pretending to understand. “We can’t understand their beauty, but we still call them beautiful.” He took another sip, and then an army of beautifully colored flowers flew out of his mouth. “Beauty should not be understood. It’s indistinguishable, unexplainable and mysterious. You don’t need an evident reason to call something beautiful. It’s like the taste of pure water that is causing words to committee suicide in order to describe it, but nothing will come close. Nothing will ever describe such purity and bewildering taste of ecstasy. How could such perplexing beauty exist, out of nowhere? The bird’s tune, the ocean’s waves and the wind’s songs we cannot perceive. How could they, be singing beauty for nothing? Their beauty is too deep, too obscure even for the human mind to grasp. Yet, they still exist. But why? If no one understands them, why are they still showing off their beauty? Their unfathomable, wonderfully and natural beauty.” I froze. His words and thoughts were so eloquent. His mind must be tiring to have. “Maybe they don’t have a reason. You know, maybe it’s just life.” I probably shouldn’t have humiliated myself by sharing such dull thoughts, but I had to gulp the aching silence inside me. “I don’t think so,” he said. “When I hear a bird’s tune, or look at the skies and the moon- they fill my heart with a spirit. A spirit I cannot understand or see or fathom. Yet, I can feel it. I don’t think such beauty can exist with no reason. A beauty that has the ability to be felt but not understood. Beauty must be created. Like a painting, a poem, a performance. They’re not fully understood but they are felt.” Another silence emerged, but this time �" I found out that silence could be heard. “We shouldn’t understand beauty.” He concluded. “If we do, we wouldn’t be astounded by it no more. It loses it’s beautiful peculiarity and perplexity. That’s what makes it beautiful. The fact that it’s mysterious, something incomprehensible and odd. When we don’t understand, we long for an answer. Though, the rope is too long for our minds to find an answer. And so we just call it beautiful. Because it’s odd, it’s different. It’s felt, but not fully understood.” I lost my mind between his words, in fact �" I didn’t even fully understand him. But I loved it. “This world is beautiful because it’s mysterious. It’s full of secrets. And if secrets exist, then the presence of a greater one also exists.” He emptied his cup of tea and then refilled for more. It was like his fuel. Each sip would engine his mind with alluring thoughts. “And, sometimes- just like the moon, and the bird’s tune. I feel him. I don’t understand his love, his wisdom or power. I don’t understand anything. But he’s beautiful. He’s mystical, not fully understandable. Just like his creations. They are all so captivating, with their vibrant colors and esoteric sounds. We try to study them, explore their beauty and find out it’s obscurity. Though, we will never figure out everything. The most beautiful things. The song of a bird or an animal’s cry. These are the most bizarre, and the most beautiful. And the closer we get to figuring out beauty, the more we realize how beautiful it is, how mysterious and cryptic.” I nodded, still pretending to understand. His thoughts were too big to squeeze inside this tiny brain of mine. “Maybe that’s why people refuse to believe. Because they can’t understand. They don’t understand him. They don’t understand how one can feel his love without having to hear or see him. But that’s why it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. That’s how the tune of a bird is beautiful, it cannot be understood, but it is felt. That’s why nature is beautiful, it speaks an unknown language, and it is beautiful. They are mysterious, different and inexplicable. That’s why we fall in love with art, with beauty. They should never be understood or fully revealed, or their beauty will lose it’s mystery, which sparked it with charm. If you will fall in love with beauty, then you should be prepared to fall in it’s subtlety. That’s how beauty was created, and that’s how the creator is beautiful. He is concealed, puzzling and unfathomable. But he is felt.” His words were so powerful; I couldn’t grasp them with my frail hand and pull them inside me. They were just flowing within the air, like autumn or spring leaves. Either way, they were beautiful. It almost felt like the ground had collapsed and we were floating within the weight of his words. “I will never understand him. I will never understand his beauty or wisdom. But I fully accept that. Because through my confusion, I will recognize his beauty. And his beauty is like nature’s language. The language of the stars and the moon, they are not heard or understood, but they are felt.” Slowly, his tears streamed down his face. They were so silent and pure yet powerful. He wanted to say more but he couldn’t find the right words. He couldn’t explain fully and so his thoughts came out like tears, mirroring the unexplainable beauty within him. His feelings came from a place I cannot reach, a place too deep and obscure. He felt him. He really did. Every tear echoed the atmosphere with a spirit, a beautiful one. And even though I didn’t understand it, I felt it. I felt God. “Your words are so beautiful.” I said, while the tears washed away the dryness of my skin. “Although I didn’t fully understand them, but somehow �" I felt them.” He tilted his head towards me, and then gave a gentle smile. “It was like listening to a bird’s song, I couldn’t understand it but I felt it. Things are more beautiful when they are veiled and unexplainable, like your soul. They leave you with questions that will pull you in trying to find the answer. Though, the answer is still too far. And for now, for our tiny brains that cannot hold as much knowledge, we call it beautiful. You don’t need to fully explain your thoughts accurately; their complexity is what makes them beautiful. Their peculiarity.” Suddenly, I was paralyzed. I didn’t know where it came from, those words I had said. They just came out, freely and reluctantly. I didn’t even know I was capable. It was as if his words, his puzzling words that sounded like a bird’s tune, reflected back. Beauty was reflected. “The beautiful is the one who can identify beauty without understanding it.” He said. It didn’t make any sense, but at the same it did. It was beautiful. And so I nodded, pretending to understand. Or do I? © 2013 MirnaFeatured Review
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MirnaAbu Dhabi, Al Ain, United Arab EmiratesAboutI am a writer who is shy yet courageous, humble yet loud, wanting to break out of my shell and reach people and tell them we have the same problems, the same fears, the same hopes, and the same loves,.. more..Writing
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