Rosaleene : the beauty of touch

By : keishara.A

There I saw, Rosaleene. Young, faithful, and charming, as her proven description.

Her bright silky hair gave the reflection of the sun. Her soft and bright skin seemed as if a cloud turned into a human being.

So beautiful yet she never saw that beauty even once in her lifetime. In fact, not a single stroke of beauty has ever passed through her memory of sight. People believed that she understood nothing about beauty itself. But she denies.

“Since my mother’s hand touched my face for the very first time, my sight were never there. But yet I was aware of the beauty one could tell. Of how calming it could feel. For many, has a different meaning. Therefore beauty is none less than our own understanding of that certain feeling” she muttered.

As she laid down and her skin meets the grass, she felt as if the earth is hugging her from behind. The fallen leaves that laid by her side felt rough, but yet somehow gave her a vivid image of what life is.

The warmth of a burning fire, the cold of an ice, the softness of a fur, and the roughness of a tree. The depth of her sense of touch seemed extraordinary. When she touch, her world around her become one with her soul.

The feelings she felt as she rubbed her hands towards an object gave her the strength to live. Her understanding of beauty itself is merely simple.

“Beauty, was never about sight. Beauty is when your heart beats sounded like an orchestra that’s playing loudly. Beauty is when your soul felt as if it was flying over a land of roses. Beauty is where your mind suddenly stands still and brought peace” her hands reached the empty air, by the soft wind brought coldness to her arms.

As what nature gave us to enjoy, sight is wonderful, and she agrees, but sight are not the only possible way for us to understand what beauty is.

“so maybe one day, close your eyes, and spread your hands wide. Touch every single object that surrounds you. Feel their surface, what did they tell you, what do you feel and what do you hear” then she got up and walks away.

Beauty is subjective, but the warmth and love she felt as she touched everything seemed very beautiful to her. What she felt was transcendence. She shared an image of her understanding of what beauty by touch means. The indescribable feeling.

It was quite a long talk, and therefore I was grateful. For then I understood, that life, is more beautiful than I imagined it to be. From that day forward, the world is twice as beautiful as I know before.