Monday, August 1, 2011

Those Baby Blues

The other day, I looked into a pair of deep pool of dark blue eyes. I thought I saw heaven. There might have been a momentary cognition of my presence in those eyes. But then I might have misjudged. I could see that this 5 hour-old baby held the strings to the world. She would make it dance; make it play the harmonics to her melody, make others smile. She would fill the void where ignorance exists and create, innovate and accentuate the good that seems to have filtered beneath the surface. Ah! She will govern the next 100 years of life.

The eyes followed my face as I moved. Or was it my imagination? It did. It was remarkable. It was a spectacular feat for a new life. We all rejoiced at the bursting intellect! Why not? It made for a celebration. There are billions of neurons (brain cells) that are bubbling into existence, calling for connections with their fellow journeymen, to share in their exploits into this new frontier. What a riot of pure and abject disregard of limits!

With each passing hour there was more: First the opening of the eyelids to reveal the beautiful blue irises, followed by the wandering gaze and now the whimper of contentment. Such a remarkable feat all wound up in a small package of 25,000-30,000 genes that click on and off at a predestined time and space to create, cajole and modify. If heaven has a reflection, it is inside those baby-blues.

So what happens as she grows? Oh, she learns to understand self and non-self. She grasps objects and then concepts and then finally understands the world for what it is. The hopes of her future and her progeny reside on her shoulders, a heavy weight to carry, but those determined eyes don’t see any relenting in that cause.

As the synaptic (neuronal connections) begin to form and the light from the non-self begins to filter in, the self will arm itself, but the journey has begun!

Those tiny hands and fingers all curled up quietly are imagining the molded transformation of the society and the world around. The fingers will delicately tease out the bad and there she will lay the foundation of a harmonious peace.

I can feel her heart beat through the tiny chest and it shows strength. It will be filled with love, protection of others but will remain vigilant. It will beat to the march of a different drum. Her own!

And those tiny little feet that I can cover with my right hand will pitter-patter over the floors of her house, walk the gardens and climb on transports to distant places in search of fulfillment of her quests. Oh she will be a force to reckon and this is just the beginning! The maze will unwind itself in her sight, the overgrowth of despair will dissipate and an under whelmed intellectual phoenix will rise again.

Her eyes are open once again and “life,” demurred, stands with hands behind her back, awaits her instructions!

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