To The Stranger I Met At Dawn - By Aphiwe Slindelo Dlamini

Written By: Aphiwe Slindelo Dlamini

Category: Essay

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the evocative essay "To The Stranger I Met At Dawn," Aphiwe Slindelo Dlamini delves into the serendipitous meeting with a stranger and the profound impact of capturing beauty through photography. This piece, submitted to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, explores themes of admiration, longing, and the struggle to articulate the essence of beauty. Dlamini's narrative sweeps readers into a moment suspended in time, painting a vivid picture of a personal and fleeting connection.

About the Work

Aphiwe Slindelo Dlamini's essay is a meditation on the allure of beauty and the emotions it evokes. Through the lens of a seemingly simple photograph, Dlamini conveys a complex tapestry of feelings, from admiration to yearning. The piece is rich with imagery, capturing the play of light and the silhouette of a stranger as a metaphor for the intangible nature of beauty. The essay's introspective tone invites readers to ponder their own experiences with fleeting moments of connection and the lasting impressions they leave.

To The Stranger I Met At Dawn

Original Submission by Aphiwe Slindelo Dlamini

To the Stranger I Met at Dawn

First, I'd like to introduce myself. Not by name, no-such would be too personal, and a bit unfair on me since I don't have your name. As I was saying, I'm the girl you spent half an hour of your morning with the other day. If you remember. The girl who stole a picture of you that I've fallen in love with.

It's a pleasure to meet you.

Where do I start? Do I tell you how I'd had no intention of capturing such a beautiful picture of you, but then when the thought occurred, I wanted it to be breathtaking? Do I tell you how I was mildly frustrated when you turned around and looked at me before I could take another picture? Or do I tell you how I didn't realize just how perfect the picture I took was until I was home?

I don't think it matters.

I'm in love with a picture of you. With your silhouette crowned by the golden morning sun, and bathing in golden strings of light. I'm in love with your lone figure admiring the birth of another day. I'm in love with your lean legs, your navy (?) shorts, your white shirt, your back, your broad shoulders, your arms, and your bowed head.

I'm in love with what the sun did to your brown skin. I don't have the name for the color that became your skin. Still brown, but now somewhere next to bronze.

What was the point of this again? Right, I remember.

Before I get to that, I feel like I should make a pit stop to explain so you have context. I have an unfortunate sickness-it's delightful and painful, vexing and marvelous in the way it affects me. I have a fetish for beauty. I use the word fetish extremely loosely because I am yet to have the proper words for what I suffer with.

Put in simple terms, when exposed to beauty that penetrates and goes deeper than the surface, I ache and yearn and crave and lust and love and appreciate, and wish I could let it drown me while I consume it.

My relationship with beauty is... not an easy one.

With that said, when I was taking that picture of you, I was only thinking of taking a pretty picture. I didn't realize I was imprisoning perfection into a single moment. I didn't notice I was stealing gold from the sun, and something just as precious from you.

Call me delusional, but I truly believe I was able to capture the essence of a moment in a picture. I truly think I did what we almost always fail to do. You know that thing where you take a picture, but it somehow comes short of what you see with your eyes, no matter how good the camera is? Well, I took a picture; it has you in it, it has the sea in it, it has the sun in it. I took a picture of you, and I have never taken a more beautiful picture.

It has life, it breathes, and looking at it makes me feel.

I'm supposed to write a letter to you, not sure exactly what I'm supposed to say. Thank you? For being on that bridge two days ago. I'm sorry? For taking a picture without your consent, not showing it to you, and stealing a drop of your essence.

I don't know what to say to you, though that probably may have something to do with how I don't know how to appreciate beauty with words. When I see, or hear, or smell something beautiful-and it's not a shallow beauty-I feel it with my body.

Oh yeah, I should probably mention that I made the picture my home screen wallpaper. When I open my phone and it opens to the home screen, I swear to you, my system regulates and I take half a beat just to appreciate before I continue on my way.

Some people would say it's creepy. I am not most people; weird, yes, but not creepy. I say this because my intentions were entirely pure, and I have only love and admiration for the pictures (yes, it's more than one). I'm not trying to convince myself or you-it simply is as I say it. I have respect for people, and I wanted to show the picture to you.

I wish I did.

Maybe it's better that I didn't. Maybe it would've lost its allure if we'd admired it together. Or maybe it'd be that much more beautiful, because I'd have a good memory of making a pleasant stranger smile at the care I took to capture a beautiful moment of him.

Gods, I wish I showed those pictures to you. In two days, I'll be back on that bridge-same time as two days ago. I'll stay there for half an hour. I'll do the same on Sunday and on Monday. I hope to see you there. Truly, I do. It cripples me when I hold beauty and the owner doesn't know. It hurts to know beauty but keep it from the wielder.

Keeping beauty like it's a possession rattles my chest and makes my heart bleed. If it's beautiful, I need to feel it, not have it. Currently, I have the beauty that I captured in that picture. Looking at it gives me an ache. It's still mild and a bit sweet. I don't want it to turn treacly and burn my heart.

You know, I went to look at an ocean sunrise because it's beautiful-but you were beautiful. Now my heart aches for a stranger I met at dawn.

Now I'm in love with a silhouette bathing in gold.

Signed by

Just another stranger.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, is a prestigious event celebrating the diverse voices and talents of writers worldwide. Participants are encouraged to explore a broad range of themes through poetry, essays, and creative writing. This competition serves as a platform for both emerging and established writers to share their unique perspectives and contribute to the global literary landscape.

Thank you, Aphiwe Slindelo Dlamini, for sharing your reflective essay, "To The Stranger I Met At Dawn," with us. Your participation in the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 enriches the tapestry of voices that make this event a celebration of creativity and human experience. We appreciate your insight into the profound impact of beauty and connection captured in a moment.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.