‘Look another one mother,’ Bindu stood up holding yet another seashell, it was a very bright purplish blue, a rare sight. He possessed thousands more, treasures he had amassed from their evening walks along the shore, just before the onset of high tide. She rustled his hair and planted a gentle congratulatory kiss on his cheek. His infectious smile was reward enough for her. She mused at the seductive charm of this rugged coastline that had him in its grip, the same charm that had once wooed her as a young bride, from the distant hills. The waves that lapped the beach in gentle harmony, and the balmy feel of the setting sun filled her with a strange tranquility.  This was their favourite hour, since the distant horizon would soon unravel the tiny fleet of boats that would carry the returning fishermen from their daily excursions to the depths beyond, her husband among them. Bindu relished the sight of these small shapes that steadily grew bigger as they approached the shore, more importantly to catch a glimpse of the tall man who would wave vigorously from one of the boats. She had sufficient cause to feel the same excitement and anticipation as her little boy; it was marred only by that tinge of anxiety that marked that eternity until the first glimpse. For their patience Bindu and all the other little urchins who stood by the shore would be conferred the great honour of helping these hunters of the sea to drag in their hard won catch. Songs and chants marked this sacred ritual as adults and young alike would help pull the long nets with that prized commodity tangled in it, to shore.

She rejoiced at the simple pleasures that this way of life bestowed upon her, they had no luxuries, but was happy. Her sole concerns were for the safety of her beloved out at sea. Yet, she had had always caught first glimpse of his boat etched against the crimson horizon, soon in her heart, she knew the winds would always carry him back to her. Thus the woman from the mountains found more ways than one to find peace amidst the rugged beauty of the coastline.

 One morning, Bindu stormed in red with excitement. ‘Mother! mother! come quick, there are shrimps jumping on the sand’, his childish excitement brought a smile to her lips. She put aside her cooking and went out, the sight stunned her. There was a huge throng of people gazing out to sea. The shoreline had receded by at least a couple of kilometers. Huge shrimps and a multitude of fish were seen writhing, in the now exposed seabed, it was a sumptuous visual feast. Her total delight was scarred solely by the absence of her man. She saw adult and child alike frolicking in the now exposed seabed, making comical attempts to catch the highly vulnerable critters. She gave out a childish giggle, and rushed forward, looked back, and with a laugh raced back, she had left poor Bindu struggling to catch up with her on his small legs. She placed Bindu on her shoulders and rushed into the thick of adventure, she wished her child to savour every bit of this real life fantasy. Suddenly, a hushed gasp issued from the crowd, almost as one. She looked up, a solid, towering mass of water was bearing towards her. She clasped her child and whispered a prayer.

The boats returned that evening; a distraught man scanned the now disfigured shoreline for his wife and child, in vain.

copyright @ jude perera 2006