The unknown

There are these moments in life, which I call "groping-for-the-right-word" kind of moments. This was one such. A moment of wordlessness.

I found this while strolling down a tiny deserted alley in Porto, Portugal months ago. I was with a friend, and this was the last day of our five-day trip. It wasn't the best of weather that day, and we were desperately hoping that the sky would clear soon enough to let us go to the beach, as planned. When by early afternoon we figured that all our hopes of enjoying the Portuguese sun had been destroyed, we decided to not let the disappointment dampen our spirits and take a walk around the city instead. After a while, hunger struck, and we started looking for an untouristy place far away from the maddening crowd where we could eat 'traditional' Portuguese food. That was when this happened. 

We took a turn and there it was. Every house, on either side of the lane, had these pictures put up on their windows/balconies. I stared in amazement, wondering what it was all about. There wasn't anyone around, barring an old Portuguese who looked clearly surprised to see us. We wandered around a bit, soaking it all in, taking pictures, and then resumed our quest.

We came back, got busy with our lives, the picture almost fading from memory. Then today, while going through my archive, I found it again. Memories came rushing back, with that familiar question: what was it all about! I started thinking, maybe it didn't mean anything afterall. Maybe the locals were just religious and it was a way of expressing their gratitude to Almighty. Or maybe it meant something. Maybe it was a special day. I wished I knew. I wished I had asked.

But then I thought, maybe, some things were indeed better left unknown.