The Boston Opera House

| October 9, 2017 | 0 Comments

The ceilings were high and I had to crane my neck to look above the pillars at the intricate golden designs at the top. Everywhere I looked, it was warm. Not just from the chandeliers above, but from the people surrounding me too. They were flush, excited, and happy. They were warm. And there was a little giddy, joyful glow inside me as well.

It may have been pitch black outside, but in here, it was bright and electrifying. We were warm.

My ticket was scanned and I was given a cheerful ‘Enjoy!’ as I walked deeper into the building. At the end of the hall was a large staircase that would lead me closer to my goal. However, the trek to those stairs looked especially arduous with the throngs of people amassed in-between, clamoring for drinks and chatting up a storm. I slowly pushed my way through, glancing up at the ceiling. The chandeliers shined, delighted to once again perform their nightly show. The intricate golden designs their backdrop.

My right foot lifted to place itself on the first step.

I hurried up the staircase and turned to enter the small pathway leading to the mezzanine. An usher pointed me towards my seat and I hurried to claim my place. It was only until I was fully seated and comfortable that I took a moment to look around me. My adventure led me here—to the apex of the building. The seats were lined with a soft red material and the people around me were diversely dressed; from elegant ruched dresses and silver baubles to washed jeans and hoodies. It didn’t matter. We were warm.

I titled my head and found a painting of women (muses?) placed high above me. It felt as if everything that made up this building started from here, the golden patterns diffusing from this center to wrap around the walls, its chandeliers, and its stage.

Boston Opera House

photo credit: Me

The stage was small and its curtains were red. But it didn’t matter. This was the furnace. This was the reason we were warm. And for a short time, this would be the flames that consumed us.

A hush fell over the audience.

The lights dimmed, but all we saw was illumination.

 

featured photo credit: me

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Category: Boston, East by West by T, featured

Soubhana Asif

About the Author ()

Soubhana Asif is a junior at Boston University majoring in Biology and double minoring in Arabic and Medical Anthropology. "Have I said too much? There's nothing more I can think of to say to you. But all you have to do is look at me to know that every word is true."

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