Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Truth in Love

Essay By: parkelis

If we searched all corners of the world, from the high-reaching mountains of the Asian himalayas to the negative-level heights of Death Valley, where would we stumble upon truth?

Submitted:Jun 4, 2011    Reads: 161    Comments: 2    Likes: 3   

If my brain was a pile of stacked files, there wouldn't be much found within the file labeled "what I do know." How can you really know anything? This is a question that we, as humans who live in search of explanations (for the accidents and coincidences that fill our daily lives), often stumble upon. I once put all my faith in facts; I perceived facts as the gateway to worldly truths. Yet, the population of theories and experimental data are burgeoning exponentially, and with each passing day, a new fact is replacing an old one. Truths become falsehoods, and what have long been considered fallacies are now esteemed as a scientist's verisimilitudes.
There is one thing I do know better than anyone else: I know me. I know this goofy-looking, obnoxiously loud, at-times ignorant, oddball of a creature that is Ali Tufail (yes, pronounced to-FAIL) Khan. I also know family, or at least, some semblance of one. I know friends; I know teachers who surpass the dictionary definition of what makes up a "teacher;" I know the people in my life that long to be considered far more than ordinary acquaintances. Oh, and how could I forget, I know the validity of my pets. I question every single aspect of this life I'm living, but I don't question the aforementioned people. I spend hours on end pondering why something has happened to me, or what reason a poet has for a syntactical choice in a simple stanza of poetry, but I don't question the many loves of my life.
And there you have it - love is the answer to this question. Through love, this inexplicable, undeniable, ever-present emotion that sucks you in (and has the power to alter your world, as some clich├ęs say), I know truth. For so long now, I've been considered emotional. I cry and laugh and shine in joy and fall into the depth of despair. Yet, emotion is my strength. I know what is true when I feel that object, that thing to be true. All questions of why, where, what, and how seem to dissipate into thin air when I feel the validity of something. No questions remain, no doubt forms a shadowy, gray cloud above my head; what does remain is the object, standing besides love, truth, and a ray of God's light.


| Email this story Email this Essay | Add to reading list


About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.