Just outside one of the windows in my beloved’s apartment in Zagreb there are electric wires crossing. One wire is running across the street, the other is strung along the street. The intersection is marked by a double hook running from the wire above, which is used for support, to the one below, which caries the electricity. The two hooks run through two porcelain eyelets that have turned black over the years. The wire below spins around the eyelets, forming something reminiscent of the symbol for infinity. Seen through the window against the tiled roof across the street as the background, the wire crossing looks very like the Buddha’s eyes in the Tibetan tradition. They appear half open. The Buddha is wide awake, though. He never blinks, either. And he is staring straight into my eyes all the while. Although I feel honored in a way, I am also a bit uncomfortable. Why me? I check all the other wire crossings down the street, and I find no windows next to them. Goodness gracious, I must be the chosen one!

Addendum (February 21, 2013)

Sitting in my beloved’s apartment and reading, I noticed that it was snowing. Large snowflakes danced in front of the window. Carried by light wind, they went every which way. And many went straight up. From my vantage point, they looked alive, like a swarm of insects. But then my gaze alighted on the Buddha’s eyes in the wire crossing, and I swiftly forgot about the snowflakes. Soon I was staring into his eyes, and he was staring into mine. “Yes,” I whispered after a while. What else could I possibly say? Returning to my reading, I nodded a few times. If there is any need for words right now, “yes” is the word of choice.