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This is the sea
08:54 (GMT+2), Mon, 06 August 2012

“So what happens now?” He looks at me bewildered, like a child needing an answer in order to have a good reason not to start crying.

I know what to say, but the words won’t take shape on my tongue. I look at the grey sea and the surf at the first break, hoping that it would answer on my behalf saving me the hardship of pushing the truth through my lips.

“We have to wait for the sea now,” I barely manage saying.

Until the day I lose my faculties, the expression on his dark face will haunt me. His frame is slight, but it emanates dignity found only in people who know who they are, irrespective of rank and lineage. He looks at the sea as if he could soak it dry with single stare. His mouth opens and closes as if he is a fish out of water, helplessly struggling to breathe.

On impulse, however unprofessional, I reach out and touch his arm. Strangely, as if it is an electric current, his emotion jolts through me and I feel tears stinging. Surprisingly, I almost choke when trying to speak.

“Sir..,” I barely manage. “I am so sorry…”

He stands there peering at the waves. Quiet, unrelenting. His face is dignified with the knowledge of hardship. That expression fascinates me every time I see it, simply because I find to so imperceptibly mesmerizing. I feel my throat tighten with a sorrow that is not even mine. I search his face for a similar emotion, before I start sniffling like a real wimp. Nothing.

This is not like those cleverly written and well rehearsed scenes in tear jerking movies. This is moment is so real, it jolts you from deep inside your gut. It seems like forever that we stand there. Him looking at the sea and me looking at him to give me some sort of sign that he is okay. Nothing.

Instinctively, I grab his pulse and squeeze it hard, as if I want to pull him out of the moment and away from the sight of the grey sea rolling its waves casually onto the hard, dark sand. It starts raining and still we stand there, staring at the sea.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, I manage to say something scarcely sensible. “Sir, can I pray with you?” His arm relaxes slightly under my grip, signifying his consent. I have prayed many times during my life, especially during the most desperate times, calling out to heaven in hope of some kind of miracle to change everything around me. But none of those irate prayers could have prepared me for this.

When I finish the prayer, he looks at the sea in a whole different way. His face seems lightened with the colour of hope. We turn away from the sea. His pace is steady. I struggle to see where I am going and try to wipe my tears unnoticeably.
It’s a strange thought, thinking that we will share those moments forever. In a way, it has united us, regardless of everything that separates us.

For days, even weeks to follow, I cannot separate myself from the family’s grief as they hope for some news on the son they lost at sea. But news never came. It remains a cloudy mystery like that grey Thursday afternoon, when their lives changed irreversibly.

For some reason, an old Waterboys song, This is the sea (lyrics below) came milling through my head. Some deep rooted subliminal message? Well, I found the lyrics, gave it a good read and realized – that afternoon touched and changed my life in far reaching ways too…

These things you keep
You'd better throw them away
You wanna turn your back
On your soulless days
Once you were tethered
Well now you are free
That was the river
This is the sea!

Now if you're feelin' weary
If you've been alone too long
Maybe you've been suffering from
A few too many
Plans that have gone wrong
And you're trying to remember
How fine your life used to be
Running around banging your drum
Like it's 1973
Well that was the river
This is the sea!

Now you say you've got trouble
You say you've got pain
You say've got nothing left to believe in
Nothing to hold on to
Nothing to trust
Nothing but chains
You've been scouring your conscience
Raking through your memories
Scouring your conscience
But that was the river
This is the sea!

Now I can see you wavering
As you try to decide
You've got a war in your head
And it's tearing you up inside
You're trying to make sense
Of something that you just don't see
And you know you once held the key
But that was the river
And this is the sea!

Now I hear there's a train
It's coming on down the line
It's yours if you hurry
You've got still enough time
And you don't need no ticket
And you don't pay no fee
Because that was the river
And this is the sea!
Behold the sea!