Saturday, May 29, 2010

Enchanted Oranges





I dedicate this piece to my dearest Greek friends Roger and Iliana.

I was staying at a plush hotel in Union Square. Had a late night the day before, and despite my intentions and daily routine, I ended up sleeping in.
After battling my own laziness and the slight hangover from the night before, I got out of bed and walked straight towards the large windows of my top-floor room. As I pulled the massive curtains aside, I was instantly hit by the intense rays of warm light that hit my eyes like a bolt of lightning which almost blinded me momentarily.
The forceful enthusiasm and the sheer energy of this Friday morning which was now invading the previously somber and darkened room was a bit too much to take in at that very moment ; so, I turned around and headed for the complimentary coffee maker sitting at the top of the mini-bar.
I got the coffee maker going and walked into the bathroom and splashed my face with sobering cold water…
A few minutes later, feeling a bit more refreshed and a cup of coffee in hand, I grabbed a cigarette and my trusty lighter and walked over to the window…
My room, although comforting and plush in every possible way, had only one flaw… A major flaw if you ask me… It was a non-smoking room… As a matter of fact, the entire hotel was declared to be a “smoke-free” facility!
Too lazy to go all the way downstairs to enjoy my morning fix; and in order to avoid the potential hefty $450 penalty, I tried to open one of the massive windows. No surprise (as I am now quite used to this situation), the window opened for about 3.5 inches wide and came to an abrupt and stubborn stop.
So, here I am hunching over the corner of the window, with my hand holding the cigarette extended outside the window and my face jammed through this small opening puffing the smoke forcefully to avoid stinking up the room… I felt like a teenager “closet smoking” in his room and taking extreme measures not to be caught by his parents… I know… It is rather pathetic!

The streets below me were filled with life and energy. The hustle and bustle of the scenery and the warm morning sun were all the encouragement I needed to get ready, get dressed, go downstairs and melt into the alluring scene and let the day take me on whatever adventure it had in store for me…
As I stepped into the busy sidewalk, I was instantly swept away into the flowing river of passersby. I hadn’t even walked more than two blocks when I was approached by a homeless man as I was waiting to cross an intersection…
He came right up to me out of nowhere, almost invading my personal space… Gave me a compliment-as part of is charming sales pitch- and loudly announced: “today is my birthday”! Smiling, he revealed the 5 or 6 remaining half-rotten teeth in his mouth…
He was a very tall old man in his late 60s or even early seventies. I couldn’t tell as being a homeless adds to your age (The same way the camera adds 10 pounds to your weight)… 
His clothes were obviously tattered and frayed… A blend of beige and grey… Too dilapidated to show any real color… But not disgustingly dirty or smelly… At least not enough to be offensive…
Happy Birthday, I said. How old are you today?
Too old, he replied. Still smiling…

An awkward silent moment engulfed this scene as a thick fog … He was still in my personal space and was invading it forcefully… However, something about him was interesting to me…
What came out of my mouth next even surprised me!
I will give you twenty bucks if you tell me a good story! With that, I pointed to the Starbucks across the street (where I was originally headed towards) and added: over a cup of coffee.
What even surprised me more, was that he accepted my offer with a nod (still smiling) without any hesitation, or without giving me a look as though I was insane!!!
I patted him on the shoulder, and said let’s go…
We grabbed a small table and two chairs outside the store on the sidewalk. I went in and got us two cups of coffee. He grabbed the paper cup with both hands (even though it was not a cold day at all; and typically people do so to warm their hands on a cold day) and took a sip. I lit a cigarette and offered one to him as well which he accepted.
The smile vanished… He lowered his head and stared at the sidewalk and his torn and worn-out army boots… Took a few eagerly puffs… Then, without any prelude, he began his story.
As he began to speak, he slowly raised his head… Fixed his eyes on mine and looked acutely and piercingly into my eyes… For the entire duration of the story, he did not look away, nor did his gaze lose its intensity!
When I was a young man (and he said it in a way that made it seem as it was centuries ago) I joined the armed forces and got stationed in Greece. After I was there for a couple of months I had a few days of R&R coming up and decided to go see the countryside-instead of the usual routine of hitting the local bars with my buddies and getting hammered. So I borrowed my mate’s beat-up, old 3-cylender, French-made clunker, and headed out of the base.
I was told that on the other side of the mountain there was a charming little city by the bay, and I wanted to go check it out.
As I began the steep climb up the narrow and windy road up the mountain, I soon realized that it would be a tough challenge to get the 3-cylernder shit-box all the way up. The car was huffing and puffing up the road like the “little engine that could”; but I was worried that it would end up being “the little crappy car that couldn’t”! I could have easily gone faster if I got out of the car and pushed it all the way up the road!
Anyway, I was three quarters up on this large mountain when the car started heating up. Now, the road was too narrow and dangerous for me to stop right there; and I was hoping that I would come to a wide enough shoulder that I could park and give the car some time to cool off. 
The fact that the sun was about to set didn’t help my stressful situation either.
Luckily, about 300 yards up the road and passed a very sharp turn, I saw a large patch of gravel shoulder which was made for the same exact purpose (I could tell by all the patches of oil-stained gravel which were left from all the clunkers before me). I pulled off the road, stopped the engine and pulled up the parking brake as high up as I could as the last thing I wanted was to chase this piece of shit down the hill.
As I got out of the car, I noticed an old Greek man selling oranges by the side of the road. He was sitting on a wooden box and had another wooden box filled with oranges in front of him. He was resting his chin on his hands holding on to an old cane and using it to support the weight of his head.
I walked up to him and asked-using the very little Greek that I had learned: “how much?”
The old man didn’t say a word. He didn’t even move his head to look at me!
I reached out into the box, grabbed a couple of oranges, held them up and asked again: “How much?”
No response! The old man was lost in a dream gazing into the distance.
When I asked him for the third time-waving my hand with the two oranges-and clearly annoyed; he looked at me and impatiently said: “for you, free”! Giving me a dismissive gesture with his hand…
Needless to say, I was quite surprised and somewhat annoyed. Here is an old man who can barely walk, in the middle of nowhere almost on top of a mountain, selling oranges for free! It made no sense…
“Free?!” I asked.
By now he was back staring into the distance. He reached out into his jacket pocket with one hand-the other still holding the cane and supporting his chin- and produced a small pocket knife. Without even looking at me, he extended his hand towards me, offering me the knife. As I grabbed the knife, he invited me to sit next to him (not in words, but by a motion of his hand that clearly translated to: “stop talking so much and sit down and have your damn orange”).
Shocked and somewhat insulted, I did as he asked. And as I did, I was stunned and astonished but what I saw!
Before us, was the most incredible and breathtaking sunset that I have ever seen in my life!!!
The golden sun, larger than I had ever seen it, was slowly dipping into the ocean…
The pure blue of the ocean and the golden rays of sunlight were mixing together as though someone was painting the ocean with gold!

Oranges in one hand, and the pocket knife in the other, I sat there motionless… Astounded… Speechless…
It was as though I was a soaring eagle flying over the gates of heaven!!!!
I caught the old man in the corner of my eye, turning to look at me, smiling with deep satisfaction, and turning away quickly not to miss anymore than he had to.

The lower the sun went, the more complex the colors and the patters became; and right before the day gave way to the dark of night, the ocean, the skies, the clouds, and all existence turned to the most vivid color of red imaginable!

In those few minutes, I experienced heaven and hell!!!

I was trembling inside… And I was humbled to the power of what I saw before me!

I was no longer the center of my universe… Rather, I felt small and insignificant…. At the same time, I felt this incredible joy to have been a part of this magical display…
To be “alive” to see the sheer power and the beauty of the universe around me!!!


He finished his story as abruptly as he had started it. And as he did, he took his eyes off of me, turned his head, and started into the distance…
He was, at that moment, staring into the same scenery as he had decades ago, sitting atop a mountain alongside the old Greek man selling oranges!!!

We both remained silent for a while… Until he turned to me once again, and smiled…
I smiled back.
“Thank you”, I said.
I reached into my wallet, gave him a twenty dollar bill, shook his callused hand, wished him a happy birthday once again, and walked off…
Disappearing into the river of passersby once again…
….

With the exception of our early childhood, we spend the rest of our lives looking at the world around us through filters of what we have been taught, conditioned to believe, and what we have experienced (the values, the norms, and the rules that have been instilled in us by our parents, teachers, peers, families, the media, and our societies, the limitations that have been placed on our imagination, and the disbeliefs and cynicisms that our experiences and most importantly our failures have created within us).

Most of us, most of the time, see the world void of color… The same way that the homeless man’s clothing looked monochrome, pale and drab to me!!!
Life becomes nothing but a re-run of the same sitcom we have been watching over and over…
“Lucy, I’m Hoooooome”!

I hope this peace inspires you to at least try to shed those filters every once in a while and look at the world around you as we once did as children:

“A vast and endless sea of possibilities ready to be molded at the power of our will and the brilliance of our imagination”!!!!



3 comments:

  1. I agree with your point that going through life blindly can be tragic, not being aware of the minutes that pass. However, sometimes if you feel, and if you are aware, the routine can be very meaningful as well. Often people think that just by doing different things all the time they can find meaning not knowing it is right here, in the simple moments, simple pleasures.
    I loved the story, great writing.
    Thanks,
    Nrod

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  2. I wish I had a piece of artistic work to dedicate to my favorite artist,who shares his sheer moments of being and joy and sadness with others,and leads them step by step to find the truth about being!!! thanks for being and for flowing life through your works.
    Actually, it is as if i'm watching a play!you play the old man on top of the hill,the sunset is your works and I play your part,whom i told the story of not neglecting the beauties in the world!!!!
    Have you ever thought of making your writings in to a play,even the story of your paintings?!!!

    P.H

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    Replies
    1. Dearest P.H,

      Your comments, kind words, support and encouragement are the best dedication/gift an artist can receive.

      Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I rarely get the pleasure of reading how my work effects others; and I appreciate the time you take to express your thoughts as you read my work.

      K.

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