Present

Standing on the beach shore, ankle-deep in the foaming water, I was admiring and dreading the endless, capricious sea, glistening in the moonlight. I wondered how much I would need to venture into its depths, to disappear into oblivion, and never be returned to existence. Even when I am dead, I did not want to be found.

This past week was a miserable one, full of goodbyes. After five years of toiling hard, day and night, I had to bid farewell to my company. I had left my job and started it with a lot of dreams and aspirations, but beyond a profitable first year, I had struggled to keep it barely afloat. Loans stacked upon loans and finally when I couldn’t get more, I lost everything. My house, and everything in it – furniture, electronics, kitchenware and even my books were taken away. I was pushed to the road, stripped off my bike, mobile, watch and wallet, my last possessions. I was telling myself that I would overcome this tribulation together with my wife, when one of the onlookers walked up to me and handed me a letter. My wife and I were never the best couple, but I thought we would always be together. She had gone to her parent’s house and I was absolutely unwelcome. My family and friends didn’t want anything to do with me either. I hadn’t repaid their loans and they were afraid the loan sharks would come after them if they took me in. I had nowhere to go and my pockets were empty.

My thoughts were interrupted by an unfamiliar voice, “Ayya, please give me something.”

I turned around to find a beggar anxiously looking at me. Her dishevelled hair dropped to the shoulders, hardly covering the torn patches on the blouse. Her saree wasn’t any better – tattered and wrinkled, so faded it was impossible to tell what the original color was. She did wear an adequate amount of clothing, yet I was able to see a generous amount of skin. It would have been a perfect fashion statement for heroines.

“Ayya, please help me. Give me something.” she begged, extending her hand, her open palm resting a few coins.

I realized for the first time in my life I had observed a homeless person instead of shooing her away. I looked down at myself – I was still decently dressed. In a few days, I will begin to look like her and will be shooed away.  I was indignant at myself, for being a judgmental idiot who couldn’t discern his own becoming.

I started stripping – first my shirt and then my pants, and gave it to her. She scratched her head in confusion. I grabbed my sandals and placed them on top of my clothes. I stood there with just my underwear. “Fuck it” I thought as I started removing my underwear.

“Eeek”, she cried, stepping away, covering her face with the clothes. She was embarrassed. I wasn’t anymore. I removed my underwear and called her, “Hey!”

Slowly, she lowered the clothes, and her eyes lowered to my groin. I handed her my underwear and she took it, continuing to stare. I was completely naked, but felt no shame. I had lost my dignity. I couldn’t stoop lower.

I turned back around, to my thoughts. I suddenly felt different. I thought I had lost everything, but I had had some more to lose, which I did by choosing to. I should have felt extremely miserable, but no. All the heavy, invisible chains with hooks cutting through my flesh and soul, binding and restricting me, extending from my past and to my future, no longer existed. I could breathe freedom. I smiled – death would be a peaceful one.

Ouch! I felt a sharp pain on my butt. Rubbing it, I turned around to find a police constable glaring at me. Pointing the lathi towards me, he asked, “What do you think you are doing!”

“Committing suicide”, I replied plainly.

He examined me – his eyes drifting downwards, lingering there for a second, and then upwards, back to my face. “Otha!” he cursed and started swinging the lathi at me. I jumped in pain from the blows that made contact while also jumping to avoid them. Despite the pain and the fact that I was being hit by a policeman for being naked on the beach, I felt good. Almost excited.

“Stop me if you can” I mocked him as I ran into the sea. I never looked back but knew the policeman was chasing me as I could hear his voice close behind, threatening me to stop.  I just went and went until I was completely underwater and could no longer hear or see anything. Finally, I could rest in peace. Or so I thought.

I was panting hard and shaking from the cold when I made it back to the shore. Suddenly, I had felt really cold and couldn’t breathe – no peace there. I had forgotten that I knew how to swim all this time. Now I was wet and the wind made the cold unbearable. I was shaking uncontrollably. I looked around for something to cover myself with and found the beggar woman close by. Tightly holding myself, I hurried to her.  She was trying on my shirt. I turned her around, pulled it off her and dove into it. The rest of the clothes lay in a bundle nearby, which I grabbed and started wearing as she simply stood not knowing how to react. It felt so much cozier when I had my clothes on. I walked away after thanking her, leaving her still confused. I had walked only a few steps when I heard “Hey” behind me. I looked around to find the woman again. She looked at me for a couple of seconds, removed my sandals from her feet, placed them near mine, and left without another word or glance. Despite the cold from being wet, I felt warmth.       

As I trudged away from the sea, I felt the contraction of my gut. It was something my wife always took care of, and she was really good at it. I dearly missed her, especially now as my stomach tightened and rumbled. I could smell her fish curry – the best I had ever had. I felt like I was losing my mind, driven mad by hunger as I staggered aimlessly in the direction of the fish curry. And I found myself standing in front of a small cart serving seafood. There was quite a crowd relishing the fish and prawn fry, shark puttu, crab masala, and of course, fish curry with rice. I looked into my pockets, knowing that I wouldn’t find anything. Hope can be cruel. The trays on display had their contents reducing by the second and I was desperately trying to pull a rabbit out of my pocket. The thought of going back to the sea crossed my mind, and it didn’t matter anymore. Ravenous as I was, I grabbed a plate and put rice and fish curry on it. When the lady behind the cart called out, I ordered one of each from the trays. I devoured my plate within a couple of minutes and served myself a second. Then the fish fry arrived. I stared at it in irony – it should have been eating me. Now, I was able to eat more calmly, relishing each bite. It was so delicious, I almost felt guilty swallowing it. And I never thought this day would ever come – the best fish curry ever.

As I washed my hands, I felt bad. After such a gratifying meal, I couldn’t just run away. It would be wrong.  I slowly walked to the front of the cart and stood there until the lady made eye contact.

“The food was excellent. The best I ever had.” I told her with as much emotion as I could.

“Thanks sir!” she replied with a wide smile. “That would be 360 rupees.”

I stood there awkwardly, fiddling with my hands, not sure how to let her know.  After a moment, she looked at me and noticed my uneasiness. “Sir?”

“I…don’t…have any money.” I managed to say.

After a hard look at me, she let out a long sigh. “Get lost.” And resumed tending to the remaining customers.

I still felt bad, but was relieved to be forgiven. I wondered – if the food hadn’t been so good, would I have run away? My instinct told me I would find the answer soon.  

I wandered around until I was exhausted. Most of the beach was empty. I looked around for a spot to lie down - too many choices. The entire beach was my bed, but of course, I had to share it with a lot of strangers. A line of boats were parked a few yards from the sea. I found an unoccupied one and got into it. With my head resting against the curved wooden rear of the boat cushioned by my shirt and the fishing net as a blanket, I lay down on my back, taking in the stunning sight. A starry night. The sky was beautifully illuminated by the stars and the moon. They didn’t seem to follow any pattern, yet it didn’t seem random. Maybe god is an artist and the sky, his canvas. The quiet of the night, with the rhythmic crashing of waves, resonated with his painting. Maybe mother earth was singing her appreciation of god’s painting. I felt like a baby in a cradle, god holding the painting above me while mother earth sung a lullaby. Finally, peace.

All my life, I had been working towards the future all the while trying to protect my past. Now, I had no past nor future. I had decided to die because I had lost everything. But now that I think about it, I never lived because I had them. I was free. ‘Now’ was all that mattered. I was going to have the best sleep of my life. Waking up was no concern. As I drifted into darkness, I wondered…“What happened to that policeman?”