It makes me think of it like a sportsman readying for the run, heaving his breaths in and out, his pulses on the verge of explosion and with all his energy garnered and ready to surge. It travelled some distance before it rose and fell, the waves of the sea.  Bare chested men and bikini clad women dotted the shores. The young ones playfully splashed, surfed, dived and did all other things meant for young ones to too.  The parents and the toddlers walked the length of the shore and the old ones were not to be seen. From a distance from where I sat with my daughter, wrapped in a blanket, I could see my husband and his friend and the friend’s wife play with the waves. Sometimes they jumped, and the waves took them higher but sometimes, they got dunked underneath and were fed saline water of the sea. 

Then I began to think about the formation of the sea – how all the glaciers melted and ran through the gorges and brooks into the river and into the seas and the oceans, cutting through the rocks and the soil, gathering minerals and how it changed from one form to another as it travelled the world. If only they could speak of the adventures enroute to their destination, half of our imaginations would be left buried in peace. And then I think of Al Gore and his causes and wonder if it has made so much of a difference to the ways of the human beings and their quest for comfort.  Will he delay the end of the world or were all those dramas for nothing?

It was a pretty picture from where I sat and watched. Everybody on the beach seemed happy somehow. There were giggles and laughter and screams of exultation. It was strange that the old ones were missing from the scene, almost as they did not care anymore – neither of their own momentary happiness nor that of the world. 

The shores were tinged with muck from too much human intervention, yet people swam in and every few seconds, the stubborn waves with its mighty fury would sweep them off back to the shore, as if to the cleanse the impurity or detoxify the skin of the sea as my friend would put in.  

A man who saw me struggle with the boxes the other day said to me “It’s all one big jigsaw puzzle aye?” which sent me spiralling down to the lane of another train of thoughts. Everything is indeed a big jigsaw puzzle. The world began in one piece but everything started falling apart with time and now, it is all about fitting back together. Even our own lives are stuffed with different sizes and shares of events, feelings and the likes. Sometimes they fit together perfectly, sometimes they don’t and yet if we look at it properly and try to put them back together, they do fit in like one big jigsaw puzzle. 

The world is indeed one puzzle piece – the mountains, the seas, the animals and the plants that form the food, life and death and the circle of it all. Everything must be renewed every once in a while, and what has begun to wither must be discarded. In that respect, death is only as natural as birth. And while some are saintly and destined to help the needy, some are born to snatch, to steal and to cause misery.  Even in a pack of siblings, one always ought to be the black sheep, one who is sensitive and caring or another who is street smart and gets his way. Like another friend remarked months ago “So what if he is bad. The world still needs him. There is place for him in it. Imagine how boring it would be if we were all alike”. This reminds me of the five fingers theory but let’s leave it at that. It’s boring and it’s making me sleep already. 

But the sea.. I have always loved seas. Perhaps it has something to do with my element. Even the mere thought of it opens up my mind – dissolving all my weary thoughts in its vastness. How kind it is.. how beautiful. And as the dusk fell and we headed home, I had not dipped in it yet I felt so deeply cleansed.

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