Edited by: Deshna Maheshwari
Legs crossed, she bends forward, folding into the ground. Her forehead feels the cold imprint of the coloured grey cement beneath. She stays in that position—her body used to this. There is a specific joy that seeps into her limbs, her heart, and her mind. Bent, she waits for as long as she can. “Subhana Rabbiyal A’la” echoes for the last time, permeating her with peace within. The relaxed creases on her face re-emerge; her brow furrows as she rises, eyes still shut tight, unwilling to open. The cement leaves a faint mark where her head touched God—or at least, she believed it did. The pulsating peace and gentle joy seem to dissipate as she slowly unravels. Momentarily, until the chants ceased and she opened her eyes, she felt clarity—her body and mind whole.
Keep your eyes shut, for in blindness the heart and mind see clearer.
Blades of grass poke my back as I lie idle on the university lawns painted shades of green at sunset. My toes search for long leaves to fiddle with as the murmuration of birds dances overhead. There’s a scent—a mix of freshly watered soil and the faint trace of pollution. Around me, we’re gathered in twos and threes—a silent crowd. You can observe the occasional tapping of the foot, a sudden head movement synchronised with the rhythm of the song blasting in their black Sony headphones. Everyone looks calm, no hint of worry or work weighing us down.We daze collectively—my silent crowd and I. Bee Gees on my Sony headphones drowns out the chatter and noise of the cafe nearby. My right leg is propped up against the knee of my left, and the shadows of the swaying trees play hide-and-seek, casting playful patterns on the redness of my inner eyelids. I feel a speck of possibility in me through the little joys of playing with grass and feeling quiet.
Keep your eyes shut, for in sightlessness the body meshes one with earth’s being.
Nina Simone plays in the background as my fingers mindlessly run through the fur of my childhood dog. My gaze wanders to the living room where my parents slow-dance in the warmth of the light. I don’t think they’re aware of my presence—so absorbed in their own world of two. I used to find it funny to watch couples slow-dance when I was younger. Why did they move so intimately? Why were their eyes shut? Why did they think no one could ever see them? I think I understand it a bit better now.
Keep your eyes shut, feel the beauty dancing in the movements of rhythm and love.
Have you ever seen that calculated kiss at the end of a rom-com? The one you predict is going to happen from the very start? Or if you’re lucky enough to have experienced one just like in the movies, then you know—from the time you close your eyes and lean in till the end of a kiss, time halts for you and only you. It is indescribable, this moment. The fireworks implode and nothing feels lighter than your fluttering heart.
Keep your eyes shut, for in love the heart and body can feel what sight cannot.
Do you ever lie in bed as the sun filters through the window and laces your eyelids, feeling the gentle morning breeze tickle your skin, and daydream? It’s my favourite Sunday morning activity. I like to think of all things impossible. With eyes shut, my world ceases to exist, I create new building blocks and reconstruct the world in my mind.
Keep your eyes shut, for possibilities bloom beyond the reach of open eyes.
Keep your eyes shut. Keep your eyes shut. Keep your eyes shut.
Emotions and experiences often resonate more profoundly and exquisitely with our eyes closed—think about this a little longer. Why is it that we feel closer to God, that we feel one with nature, and feel significantly more connected to another when we cannot see?
To be blind is to be intertwined with the silent language of the soul, the heart and the mind, it is where feeling is unfolded through senses unseen.
Let us be blind together, I think I can see you better in this darkness.