The Earring dangled from the ear lobe gracefully. Yellow and green, it glitters against the light on Thursday evenings while watching the sunset. It has witnessed many horrendous thing, most of which is the penetration of the flesh in the ear, to establish sovereignty. Power can be violent, or power is always violent. The dominion of the metal, sensitive to the delicate skin, promulgated with the assistance of army of Earrings. Duplications, real and unreal: real in the physical sense of being another earring, but unreal in the sense of being not that Earring. It was eerie for the Earring to see its similar face occupying the other bank of the gap of the ear. It was even more eerie for the Earring to hear the tongue in the distant village saying that there are two ears. They are identical, symmetrical even. Does that mean there is another Earring on the other side of the head? It could not tell. What it could tell is the story of its death:
It was a windy morning, the scarf coiled on the neck kept invading the space of the ear and the head, even blocking vision of the eyes. Wind also penetrated the ear with a flux of dust and grains. The Earring held on tight and would not let go. Yet, while body was getting on the bus, it bent to pick up the bus card for the old lady in front of it who clearly was unable to do it by herself. So, while hunching over, the Earring slid over and almost fell. The air’s violent caresses were scary. But for a moment, just a moment, a sudden revelation presented itself in the folds of the wind: could it be that this is the Earring’s chance to cross the chasm and meet its so called twin? Could it be the moment of decisive calling to know the answer. “Am I ready to know?” it thought. And the answer have always seemed obvious: move and act towards knowing more. However, now in this moment, in the imminent moment, it could not, for everything seemed scary. Everything was entangled with loss, and immersed with the potentiality of the ascent to the bus. There are many scenarios that can happen, but only one will happen and that is the epitome of accepting loss. Cannot you see that every instance of your existence is the death of another existence that has a different sequence of events? If so, why are you so obsessed with one incident over the other? Why do I see you ruminating over the possibility of other Earring and of other ear to uncover, while not ruminating about the possibility of falling or getting infected with rust/.
At that moment, amid the convulsions of thoughts and purposes, the Earring underwent a storm of a different sort. Not the wind, nor the water in the hot bath, but it is rather fire that blew up and absorbed it into non-existence.
The Earring died. A martyr of the arbitrariness of existence and the inevitability of loss.
AICHA BINT YUSIF 