Faces

Statistics are brought out or made annually by cities, countries and for continents, of which make the world as we know it.  Stats about crime, stats about food, stats about the economy at large, but what fascinates me are the stats about humans, the faces that exist.

There is a guaranteed set of faces that we see every morning, though these faces have different expressions  by the days swing of mood, they still stand set in the day to day encounter we have with them.  We see the first set in our families or in the people that you commute or work with.  These people are the people that your mind does not get “over” in seeing them every day.  There are, however, faces that you don’t remember having an encounter with but with a second or third look your mind registers that you have seen it before.  “Oh yes, now I remember.  I saw you in a dream I had a week ago, you were dressed in a pin striped suit with a greyish blouse.”  The mind recollects the images, some of which have sounds bound in that moment they were created, it even goes as far as rekindling the images with the scent that was at that very moment and it all started by seeing a face. 

There are faces we see that just throw our hearts in to a mellow mood, a somber state and we often don’t know why.  An example I can give is about the other morning I was walking in town, passing through to be ferried to my destination.  I saw a family trading in the street.  The man was selling batteries of all kinds, pens of shapes and sizes and sweets to colour the stand.  The woman sold mealies and even took the time to prepare some right there, either made by boiling water or put on a sieve allowing it to slowly roast as though it were a spit braai that is manually rotated. The two older faces for the brief moment I had in observation and awe ricochet the countenances of wonder while staring at the miracle they have in their life a baby, the look was paralleled by the worry and question of “how did we get here.”  This thought, I know, has had its hour of darkness in my heart sounding so sonorous looking at the current endeavor that makes hope elude my spirit and this is from seeing my own face.

And that is the one thing about faces we sometimes do not realise, though it is the first time we see that particular face, it may be the last that the sun shines in its eyes to reflect its worth, it may be the last the world embraces it's feature. I send a please to my sub conscience to remember these faces before there comes a time that old age will forcibly remove them even from my imagination. Happy faces, sad faces, faces consumed in thought trying to validate the happenings of the day, all unique in their own right. Faces make my day.