What Hussain means to me.

When they asked, what Hussain meant to me,
I blinked, and closed my eyes a little longer
While getting accustomed to the darkness of the unknown
I opened them again and experienced certainty.

This. This is what Hussain means to me. The innate movement
Of my eyelids, whose blinking, became the heartbeat of my sight

For the love of Hussain is the only sun
Whose depth blinds me by its light
As much as its edges enlighten me with their rays

When they asked, what Hussain meant to me,
I lit a candle and sat next to it. I swaddled its flame
By enfolding it with my hands, and kept swaying
My fingers between gentle warmth and burning heat.

This. This is what Hussain means to me. The constant swaying
Of my hands, oscillating between Fire and light

For the love of Hussain is the only one
Whose sparkle sets the candle of my life alight as much as
Its fire consumes the finite thread of my existence

When they asked, what Hussain meant to me,
I lifted a reed stick and made it drink from the ocean of love
I then let it bleed on the petals of a dying rose
Whose colors came and left, without it blossoming

This. This is what Hussain means to me. The ink
Whose fragrance instils life to forever fading souls.

For the love of Hussain is the only one
Whose life itself is the melodious meaning of spring
As much as its sacrifice is the soothing silence of fall

When they asked, what Hussain meant to me
I made a jar with my hands and filled them with tears.
As some of them evaporated towards moving clouds and skies,
Some slipped through my fingers and became pillars on the ground.

This. This is what Hussain means to me. ‘The lightest of tears
Whose weight leave footsteps on the Ground they fall’

For the tears shed in the name of Hussain are the only ones
Whose utmost sincerity elevates one towards the seven skies
As much as they ground one’s faith with firmness on this earth.

This is what Hussain means to me.
This is what his love has done to me.

Depths

Urla, Turkey. Summer 2009.

Depths are real. So real that they feel unreal. So real, that we feel they are untrue. Their reality is complex and complexity is not often the path we choose. We marginalize them. We ignore them, like nothing else.

We stand tall and admire the sea. We see the reflection of our existence on the waves and come to the conclusion that oceans were created for that purpose, to remind us that we’re alive. Their depths have no meaning. We ignore them, like nothing else.

Oceans are patient. They often forgive our shortsightedness. They wish some of us would look through the reflection of their own being and discover new worlds, for you don’t always need to fly to discover new lands. Their waves keep chanting poems inviting us to explore their intimacy. And we? We ignore them. We ignore them, like nothing else.

Oceans look at us differently. When they stare at us, they don’t look to reaffirm their own reality by contemplating themselves through our eyes, turning them into mere mirrors. They are so conscious of their own existence that its assertion through an entity, itself unsure of its own destiny seems futile. They ignore their own reflection. They ignore them, like we ignore their depths. They ignore them, like nothing else.

So what do oceans look at when they stare at us? If our eyes are not mere mirrors for them to comb their waves, what do they look at?

Depths. What we ignore in them, they cherish in us. For oceans, each one of us is a gateway towards a new discovery. They know that ‘within everyone of us is enfolded an entire universe’. They look through our eyes, and travel in our mind, for eyes are just a door that leads towards our fears and thoughts.

Depths. Our Depths are truly what oceans are after. Oceans are so thirsty to experience our thoughts, that they have left drops of their own existence in our eyes as tears. They parted with their own particles to keep our eyes moist and our vision intact. Sacrifice. This is what true love is about.

We start admiring blossoming flowers in the spring. Their perfection brings a tear in our eyes. As soon as this teardrop is formed, somewhere, in a distant land, waves start swaying in admiration. Sharing. This is what true love is about. We open our eyes, and oceans are those who experience colors. We breath, and they smell the fragrance. And when we finally close our eyes, it is them, who experience the absence of light.