The mist hides a moment petrified in bronze. Allied with the wind, it plays indiscreetly to cover and uncover the lovers with its light veil of clouds. They don’t seem to care, neither about the mist’s playfulness, nor the shots from the tourists pointing here and there with their cameras, still panting from the more than 200 steps climbed.
Despite being surrounded by people, I doubt if anyone else has noticed the same as me, if any other lens has captured Deva’s veneration for her Buddha, that love carved in metal, impassive to the passing of time, waiting for nirvana to give them freedom to finally touch each other. Meanwhile, they nourish their mutual adoration in this way, looking at each other face to face. He from his privileged lotus seat with the serenity that comes from feeling unique. She kneeling with devotion but lacking the tranquility of her beloved for being surrounded by five other candidates who also raise their offerings.
However, she is Patience, she knows how to wait, she knows how to hold the gaze so as not to lose Buddha’s attention. Because up there at the top of the hill, surrounded by the vegetation of Lantau Island, they feel safe since no one notices their complicity because visitors only admire his magnificence, the Big Buddha of Hong Kong, and overlook the rest.
And she feels that there is not enough jealousy to make her doubt her love story.
But… what if I change the angle? If my attention were to land on another of the Devas surrounding him, would I see the same look of love in Buddha’s eyes towards any other?
I turn off the camera, turn around and walk down the steps letting the mist do its job again. I prefer not to know, I prefer ignorance, keeping the memory of this beautiful snapshot, of this love petrified in bronze that longs for a coming nirvana.
