The boy by the Sea

He watched the relentless waves on the sea shore with the same unrelenting curiosity, as he did a few decades ago. And after all these years, the sea didn’t fail to invite him. There were many an evanescent events in his life but certainly not the memories he had of watching the enormous sea at work. Time froze and the sounds etched in his memories each time he sat there, looking astounded and unnerved at the same time. He knew though that he was safe in the warm embrace of the sands.

The thunders and whispers of the sea that he heard as a young child still sounded the same. He reminisced himself sitting with hands around his knees, eyes slightly compressed to let the saline moisture wet him a little less, hair a sticky mess falling on his forehead and firmly seated in the sand that he took to be his right on the little piece of land. It was his, the excitement was his and his time was his. He felt the same fervor that he felt as a child each time he sat there. Every time.

Over the years, the sea gave him an immense motivation. He had spent countless hours doing nothing but staring at the vastness. The enormity made him humble. He realized how tiny and insignificant he was while watching it unfold wave after wave and day after day to make up a resolute and persistent being, the only things in the world that didn’t change over the years apart from his deep and sincere reverence for it.

He saw the sea as a living being. It was alive. He heard it speak to him. It gave him an eerie courage. Courage to fight his fears. The language of honesty, strength, and sometimes deep melancholy. It was sublime and persistent and yet treacherous and short lived. It seemed that each wave had a life of its own. Rising above the waters with an applause, falling back with a thunder, only to be washed back to oblivion. It so seemed to him to reflect the life and the world around him. The parallels were profound.  

Sitting in the shore at midnight and seeing the deep black waters sent a tremor down his soul. And yet he sat there. Counting midnights and reflecting his deep black world within. The sea invited him yet again. He did not want to hold on to his resistance and he let the blacks unite.