This morning, while at a traffic light, I locked eyes with a man across the street. He was middle-aged, in his 30s or 40s, and wore a dark suit with a black overcoat on top. We were separated by about 20 metres, me on my bike on the road, he on the pedestrian crossing on the other side, us both waiting for the light to turn green.

I do not know why we locked eyes. When I stopped at the red light, I glanced up and my eyes just happened to land on him, first his clothes, then his posture, then his face. When I arrived at his face I found that he was already looking at me. I simply stared back. He never dropped his gaze and neither did I. We must’ve held each other’s gaze for at least five seconds, maybe even ten, but it felt like an eternity, for when the lights turned green and the green man yelled PIIIUUUdududududu, I felt as though I was forcefully removed from a reverie. Our gazes dropped at that moment.

I will forever remember his eyes. They were deeply observant. I felt as though he was studying every part of my being, from my clothes to my skin, down to my morals and deepest secrets. His eyes never wavered, but just rested on me, burning a hole through my being, studying me like a scientist studying a bug. His eyes also possessed a deep sadness. It seemed he was mourning over something or carrying a deep burden. Perhaps he was shouldering a responsibility that was on the verge of crushing him. Perhaps he had just lost a friend, a loved one, and was dwelling in regret or depression. I will never know why his eyes were that way, for our paths crossed only for a split second, before diverging off, without a word. Fyodor Dostoyevsky once said, “Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.” Maybe, in that moment, I was looking at at someone quite extraordinary.

There is great power in locking eyes with someone. Much can be expressed in complete silence: one’s general mood, honesty, level of presentness, bits of personality, and more. Our hesitancy to do so, whether out of politeness or cowardice, is a bit of a shame. There is much to be found in this organ.

To my friend across the street, I hope you had a wonderful day.