The Girl by the Sea

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I was shy, timid, and not a wise person.

I had seen the tide carrying away my belongings. Still, I sat and wept doing nothing. I knew I had to do something but I didn’t.

I was tired. I sat and wept from dawn to dusk and so from dusk to dawn.

The stranger asked me one day.

‘Why are you crying?’

‘The tide took away my possessions.’

‘Girl, you don’t possess anything here. But you are a giver. Always.’

He was gone.

How foolish was he? I thought.

Another stranger asked me the same.

But he replied, ‘How can you sit and cry when you have lost your things? Get it, girl. Run.’

He was gone.

Should I run? Should I let it go?

We all carry baggage—a suitcase of attachment, loyalty, love, and understanding.

Phew!!!

I was happy because it carried away the unnecessary anxieties and fears. But still, I cried.

I realized I had lost the love and compassion that belonged to me.

The stranger spoke again, inside my mind, ‘Give away.’

The other stranger interrupted, ‘Shut up, get it. Go.’

It was delusional.

I decided to wait. I watched people, families, children, lovers holding hands, the unhackneyed crowd. They all came. They went, and I waited. I loved watching them, every day. It solaced my mind. I forgot my pain. I enjoyed their unshared company.

And then again, I missed love and compassion. The tide took it away.

My father came running, ‘Come home. Let it go.’ I turned away from him.

My mother came with chocolates, ‘Come home honey.’ I ignored her.

My little sister came, ‘Come home sister.’ I shushed her.

I saw my friends. I did not go.

I sat and wept, but the tide took it away. I waited for it to be given back to me, but it did not.

My grandmother said, ‘Child, it is gone. This is the reality of life. Do not hold it. Let it go. It will come back to you when it is meant to be. Say goodbye.’

‘How can I granny? He was mine. I loved him.’

‘Nothing is yours. If he was yours, he wouldn’t have left you in distress. He would have sat with you and watched the sunrise and the sunset.’

I wept. I hugged her tight. Her old fragile bones clutched me. She cried, too.

The Sun saw us crying. But it had to set for the next day to be a sunny day.

I left with the old woman.

I needed to let go of things.

 

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