A young girl sits alone with the blades of grass surrounding her, swaying vividly with the wind, paying its worships to the beauty of the night sky. She gazes up, and she sees the joint indignation of luminous dots. She starts to count, not knowing when she would be done. She feels despair, executing an ever impossible act. She diverts to the east, and there, a portrait captures her eyes. ..
She likes drawing pictures and sketches. She never leaves without her favorite personalized sketchbook and a set of sketching pencils. She believes that rather than taking pictures through technology, giving them life through her hands is the best. She spends most of her time sitting alone in different places, creating replicas of each wonderful memory. Though she may look like she has done several masterpieces, she suffers a dilemma. She is unable to sketch the best picture she has been looking for throughout her years.
“I want a picture that could tell everyone how beautiful the world is”. Although she believes she possesses the hands that could very well do so, her pictures remain as pictures. She couldn’t feel the same feeling she did when she drew the first line. They become dull and grey afterwards. What could be her problem? Where is the life she has been bragging about? She thought she could sketch her emotions well on paper, but she failed.
Once, she asked her mother about the best place she knows. Her mother smiled and told her she wasn’t sure, but she knows how to find it.
“It is a place where your heart would beat very fast, while the time would cease, like very second is eternal and where your eyes feel like shining”
This puzzled her mind. How would she be able to figure that out? She dismissed the thought and went to the river where she usually sat whenever she feels confused. There, she would be able to stare at her favorite canvas, the water, where the reflections of the world can be seen.
She stayed there until every place was dark. She held her knees near her chest, curling up like a lost child. Countless questions enter her mind, as countless as the stars it may seem. She raised her face towards the sky, and started counting the stars, as if it were an easy task, as if it could answer her questions. After a seemingly long moment, she stopped.
A little something drew her attention. There in the east, five stars gather in a small space, looking like very good friends having a moment’s talk. Five stars, five luminous vivid stars.
It was a magnificence she could behold. These five stars-they shone so perfectly together. It was portrait of elegance, as if the stars were meant to be like that. If one star were to be taken away, the light of all the stars seem to turn dull- one thing she figured out when she focused her stare on only one of the five. She had to look at all of them for it to be beautiful. Hurriedly, she grabbed her sketchbook and pencil. After a few moments, though, she put them down.
“No. I wouldn’t want to ruin the wonderful moment,” she said. She continued to stare at the five stars as the time stopped. All she could hear was the fast throbbing of her heart.
….A portrait of five stars. Shining eternally, on the canvas of the night sky, where it will never lose its brilliance, where everyone could behold them. This was the best portrait she was looking for. She needn’t put them on paper, for the best picture could only remain there, on the night sky, in her heart and in her memories. The moment would be captured perfectly.
The five stars on the east…