Andrew, Anita,Apna, arunK, Carl, chloe, Connie,
DeepaSh, deepaSom, ElaineD, Errol, glynisM, IanGeraldine, Indira,
Joan, joey, joshua, Julia, KarenM,
LeahU, Lisby,Maranna,MarisaD,
nanditaM, neisha, NishiD,
Paula,PayalS, Preethi, PriyaH,
ratiP, Reema, RenukaR,Rigi, ruchiP,
sanchita, saranga, Shalini,Shaziya, Shilpas,ShireenL,shobhaG, SmritiJ, Sujata,
yashashree, Zaitoon, Zomie,
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INCOUNTERS – 2 : THE BEACH
This time he met me pacing the beach in the late afternoon.
Suddenly, and almost imperceptibly, he was there walking by my side. I did not have to say anything. And he himself was pensive and silent.
We just walked quietly together over the uneven sands.
I moved to familiar spots on the beach stopping now and then.
I touched the sands in different places, speaking to them about things that had happened there.
It all seemed so long ago.
I remembered…..games we had played, sandcastles we had built, picnic lunches we had shared, songs we had sung. We had playfully splashed one another with seawater in the shallows. We had pensively sat down on the sands side by side in silence, enjoying the sea breezes.
Memories…..
“You must love the beach very much,” the holy man said finally.
There was no need to answer him. He knew how I felt.
“Sit down,” he said.
I did. He sat down on the sands by my side. We did not say anything for a while. We just watched the soft-foam waves come and go. The sea breezes caressed us gently as we sat there in silence.
“Do you wish to talk about it?” he asked.
I did not answer him. There was too much to say.
“The sands are always shifting,” he said. “The beach never remains the same.”
I turned to look at the footprints we had just made. They seemed fainter already. He caught the direction of my gaze and nodded.
“Tomorrow the beach will not remember us. There will be other footprints. And still others the day after. Beaches do not have memories.”
I picked up some of the sand and let it run through my fingers. It fell back to the beach forming a new pattern. The holy man was right. The beach never remained the same.
He reached out, picked up a shell that was lying nearby and handed it to me. The shell was dry and empty. It could have been empty for ten years. Or a hundred. No one would know. It was now part of the beach. The shell too had no memories.
“How long do you wish to remain on the beach?” he asked.
“If I leave I may not remember,” I told him.
“The sands on the beach are always shifting,” he reminded me. “The memories are with you.”
I nodded in agreement, but I was hesitant to let go…
There were a few minutes left for sunset. He directed my gaze towards the open sea. The tide was coming in. Each wave brought the waters nearer to us as we sat there in silence on the sands. Quite suddenly, a larger wave broke and its foamed edge reached up to our feet.
“You must forget the beach if you wish to remember,” he told me.
“How can I forget the beach?” I asked.
“Enter the sea,” he replied. “You must swim to the horizon if you wish to make your memory pure.”
His eyes were kind with understanding. Somehow deep down inside of me I sensed he was speaking the truth. This was the only way I could be free of the memories that bound me to the sands.
I stood up, turned away from him and moved towards the inviting waters. I did not need to turn around and see them, but I could sense my newly formed footprints slowly disappearing from the wet sands behind me.
I entered the waters and moved on …
The sun had just begun to set as I stroked my way towards the horizon. As I swam, I looked back at the beach. The holy man was standing there motionless. His whole body was bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun. I swam on.
The next time I turned to look, the holy man had disappeared.
On the beach, many miles away already, the sands kept on shifting.