006 - And I knocked at the heaven's doors - English

I was in a little village, near the unique northern city that looks south, trying to take a photo to the calyx of a little and simple, but beautiful flower, when a luminous sparkle distracted my attention. I moved the camera away from my face...and I looked carefully at its lens. It was clean.

I looked at the Sun, and I didn‘t notice anything different to another day. I renewed the attempt; to capture a magic moment in that calyx, and I perceived a sparkle again, this time a little more noticeable I put my camera down and I looked at the Sun. Nothing, there was nothing.

When I tried to take the camera again, something I couldn’t do, I felt a certain luminosity out of the corner of my eye. I turned around my head and the sparkle was there, flying over the flower clumps two meters high. My face turned pale.

I’m not a believer. I believe in nothing... or nearly nothing. If I had believed in something I would have said that it was an angel, or a female angel, since I didn't perceive differentiating attributes.

I clearly felt what he or she said to me, with a charming smile, without noticing any movement in his or her thin lips, go, search and you’ll find something. Yeah! that was what I thought to understand, go, search and you’ll find something.

I was speechless. That could not be happening to me. Where did I have to go to? What did I have to look for? What was I going to find? Furthermore, Who was that being? Should I have to give him a nature letter and to confirm his existence?

And I could not do any more that day. Really, I could. I spent the whole day thinking about what it had happened to me. To me. A sceptic, a recalcitrant agnostic.

I knocked. Yeah, I knocked. I knocked at the heaven’s doors, knowing that heaven doesn't exist, as much, hell here in the earth sprinkled by paradise moments.
And a door opened. There, with his or her charming smile, there he or she was. He or she repeated to me, go, search and you’ll find something. And I had a vague vision. I saw myself, for a moment, on the Moon, or Mars, maybe something like this.

The following morning I set off for Lanzarote, I don't know why, and once there, I smelt all and each one of the stones of volcanic lava, following a trace of I don't know what. I entered inside the earth; I took a bath in the heat of the volcano until vanishing through the pores of my skin...

I came back with the strange feeling that that experience was gratifying. Nothing else.

I knocked again at the heaven’s doors. It was not necessary to knock, he/she was waiting for me at the doors. He/she repeated me, go, search and you will find. And a vague vision again. I was under the sea, nude. I was accompanied by a lot of people very different to me.

And the following morning, without knowing the reason, I was flying to Toba, a little island of Japan, where a cortege of tiny women were waiting for me without knowing why when I arrived and they took me to a bay. We dived deep into the waters where they taught me, the technique of diving free lung and quickly I learned.

They were experts, they had been born extracting the best pearls in the marine bed, and they told me that Death would find them there some day. They were happy and they smiled the whole time. I corresponded them the best way I knew.

They said good bye to me since I already knew everything that I had to know, and I should search where nobody else would have searched before.

I knocked at the heaven’s doors. This time nobody was to receive me. A silver poster said: North - Island - Very Cold - Below.

It didn't make any sense for me. Only North was an indication.

I decided to leave it to the destiny. I set off for the road and I stopped the first car. It went in north direction. And days passed, and for a strange chance, all the cars that I stopped went in north direction. And this way I arrived to a coast that it had a small island opposite.

Later I knew that it was only a little more than 30 square kilometres.

I noticed a frozen water in the beach. Obviously, I thought, I am in the North Sea, the water cannot be another way. However, the signs of the heaven's doors began to have coherence.

I remembered my Japanese friends, I got undressed and I rushed to the water. I dove tirelessly in strangely crystalline waters. I was alone. Any of those goldfish. Any coral reefs, absolutely nothing. Just white and fine sand.

I don't know how much time it passed but at the end I distinguished it clearly. A gleam. Maybe the same one that I had noticed when I was taking the photograph to that calyx.

I deeply thanked my Japanese teachers the art of diving free lung.

There I was, effortlessly tolerating all the time of the world, watching...

The most beautiful pearl that can ever be imagined.
How to imagine such a pearl in those cold waters?
I lost the notion of time. I only had eyes for that pearl.

The vision of the pearl changed my life. The world changed colour. My flowers became more beautiful, the mountains... higher, the music... more harmonious, and every day food... more delicious... Everything was an enjoyment for the senses.

I died slowly. Day by day I went down to see the pearl. My pearl. I never thought of taking it out from there. That was its place.

Little by little, the sea filled with goldfish. The coral arose. The waters became warmer. I did not need to ascend any longer to take air. My skin was in charge of breathing for me. I only needed to watch it. To know that it was there. It was enough.

One day, without knowing the reason, the water became dark, very dark. It happened suddenly. I could never know the causes... only the effects. There were not corals and goldfish any longer I could no longer tolerate inside that hell, the oxygen was insufficient to me. If I tried to go down to look for a cause, I would bring my death forward. And I died slowly.

Already almost dead, I remember. I remember that once I had, without having it, the most beautiful pearl in the world. Right now, to fix the memory, I look at Vermeer’s painting, ‘Girl with a pearl earring’, and I accompany the vision with Lisa Gerrad’s music, exactly, ‘Whale Riders’, while I die slowly.

P.D. Dedicated to the pearl, my Pearl
Yeah, I managed to take the picture of the calyx
I want to thank my friend AiYiYi the correction of this text, my first article in this
language, since it is public and notorious my not good English one that has prevented
me, among other things, to marry the queen of England.

texto: Y llamé a las puertas del cielo - WAST / OVNM / INT 070321
fotografía: @444-FB-Estambres de Feijoa 2120-R
P.D. Dedicado a La Perla
Sí, la foto del cáliz la hice.

Puedes encontrar esta historia traducida al:

inglés, gallego, francés, chino y árabe aquí

¡Es un capricho!

4 comentarios:

  1. I came to make a comment and I saw that word: lullaby. I had listened that word in my post's final song, so I went to the dictionary.
    Anyway, it's a pity that this post has't a comment. You know that it's one of my favourite posts. Oh, now I'm looking to your eyes... you have an strange sparkle on them... similar to a pearl. :)

  2. chenkapprot untergrund18 de marzo de 2009, 10:11

    Hauntingly beautiful, a lovely story, delicately worded. Our life paths, endlessly preparing us for death and the beauty beheld through the eyes of love.

  3. That already I was here, it is possible to be one déjà vu ;)

    alousiles :)