Always the eyes. It’s always the I.
Sometimes a sunny spring morning, lukewarm sunlight, and the young green leaves of trees may not have enough zeal to cheer the slumbering “I” when it is immured to the world. Not from the actual images the eyes witness but from the presupposed ideas folded in the nooks of the cranial that chaperone the “I” to the universe of seeing. Both—the actual images and perception of that image—are inseparable in the brain yet home to different dimensions. That’s why even white paper sometimes appears gray in mind; the black center dot inside a circle is a mere speck, though it is the core—one without the other does not exist.
Arguments compel the I to become more isolated within its own six-pound worth of skin. Because whisking away the old marshland of ideas, views, notions, and assertions is never effortless in any circumstance!
Rigorous research on eye function reveals the fallibility of seeing: A white light is an illusion created by the mixture of seven vibrant colors. Depending on the investigator’s intentions, light can manifest structurally as tides or tiny particles. The choice, yes, the wish, the desire determines where “I” would arrive after all—to meet the waves or the tiny bits: the photon of immortal light. Both characters in Rays are valid; we often need to recognize them. Here you have it: Always choice decides what I or the eyes yield for understanding and for apperception! Should we then allow ourselves to be wrong and accept being faulty so we become generous—to this moment, ourselves and our inhabitants?
This moment we inhabit will melt into an emptiness where the past, present, or future have no account. It happens to every living soul on the planet, often suddenly. On the other hand, what right do we have over our past other than choosing to carry along a satchel? Explanations are only sometimes adequate or fair. Wounds in memories don’t heal; they can only be nursed delicately. We are then left with a bit of rhythm, a fixed number of it—not the vast expanse of span to make life, to be Udar before it is too late!
উদার [Meaning: generous, liberal, bountiful, noble, free]
{Udar: Pronounce the “U” as Woo. The Bengali word sounds like Woo-dar.}