As I looked out onto Brighton Pier, stood on the very pebbled beach that Tagore might have once trodden, listened into the hymn of the sea, and the rolling of the lathering waves onto the skin of the shore, I felt a renewed Faith that the path I had chosen in life was indeed mine to take. In my middle years of this life I remain to stand in unshaken defiance of the customs, conventions and expectations of the world in which I was born into. To this day I have not held the hand of any man nor submitted my affections to suitors seeking it, for my loyalty lies with a vision I experienced as a little girl in which I saw, distinct yet vague, of myself and my Love. It was a beautiful encounter that occurred in the most mundane of places imaginable, in the middle of an ordinary-looking doorway… :))
If I am united with my Love in the life that remains then I should like to bring him to this spot, in Brighton, where over a century ago another intoxicant of the pen and gardener of the heart cultivated secret dreams that sought roots between the pages of books but, whose words touched destinations of more extensive reach, soothing the psychology of a nation scarred by senseless polarisation.
The breeze revolting with the net of my dark locks, I contemplated that if he were here, I would turn to face my Love and whisper in his ear, “There was only flat sea, still and blue, where you look out to now. A simple horizon and the odd wader’s legs tip-toeing, stirring rings on the water before disappearing again into the skies. When I heard that you were coming to me, the membrane between the real world and the dream world fell into agony and split. A great white palace rose from the sea with unrestrained ecstasy. I recognised it immediately. Look over there, that is where I have kept safe all my poems of you…”
Photography & Words: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Brighton Pier & Brighton Pavillion | Brighton | East Sussex | UK 2015