Meena ran her knobbly fingers through the white sand over and over again. It was as if she was compulsively digging up something, some deep memory that was buried in there somewhere. The sensation of the dry sand passing through her fingers had a calming effect on her mind as the waves gently crept up to her feet. The sky, dark and foreboding, did not hold any fear for her. Not any longer.
The beach was deserted but for a young girl standing on the shore: her dusky face and bright black eyes, her lissom body draped in a pink mundu, her figure-hugging red blouse, all, depicted someone newly awakened to the bitter-sweet pangs of young love. A rough white towel lay over her left shoulder. She waved to someone out on the water, and Meena noticed then the young fisherman who was preparing the boat.. His muscular torso was bare, a rough cloth covered his head, and a coloured mundu was wrapped tightly around his waist. His headgear flapped with the wind, revealing a head full of jet-black hair.
The young man hummed an ancient folk song of the fisherfolk, as he lunged against the boat, pushing it into the sea.
The plaintive strains of that song! His song! Something stirred deep inside her. It was a memory buried under the weight of a silent wreck, resting uneasily in her subconscious. Something akin to reason and sanity tried to push the painful memory back. But like a genie that had enough of its confinement, would not go away. The song, his song, rising from the depths of her soul, ringing, disturbing … haunting …
“Take me across the sea.
Lest I drown without you…
Oh! The sea is so fierce…”
Meena watched wistfully as the girl waved to the boatman. She paused for a moment and then waved again, excitedly. He looked back several times as he worked the oars, knowing she would stay until the boat was out of sight. The boat was bobbing about as he stood up, a mere silhouette now, and held up a tiny object towards the girl in silent communion. It was perhaps a talisman or a good luck charm from her, she thought.
Meena’s fingers dug deeper into the sand, creating a mound. The tide had moved up now. She could feel the salty spray caressing her face. Her tears mingled with the seawater. There was a strange comfort in believing that the sea wept with her, after having broken her heart.
She lay back on the sand, letting the waves wash over her. Her pepper and salt curls were spread out around her head. With every wave, she could feel the sand enter the turquoise mundu wrapped around her waist – strange comfort there, as the sea reached out to her, right up the loose green blouse. The white piece of cloth lay on her side as her mind drifted away. The faint notes of that song continued to play in her head, throwing the floodgates of her memories open relentlessly. Without mercy.
xxx
She was ten. “Catch me!” she cried in her high, lilting voice, as her sturdy little legs whipped across the sand towards the huge waves.
“Wait for me, Meenu Kutty! The sea is rough today.” Velu, a strapping boy of twelve, called out. His eyes crinkled as the salty winds blew into his face. His forehead and body glistened with sweat. His thick, dark hair caught the wind as he ran. A weak sun emerged from behind the dark clouds. They flopped together on the sand with practiced ease, their tanned skin gleaming in the sunlight as they tried to catch their breath.
“I don’t want to lose you to the sea, Meenu Kutty!” Velu said, his eyes serious.
“Take me on the fishing boat next time.” Meena turned her head to look at him with her piercing eyes. A seriousness far beyond her tender age.
“As soon as I am old enough to go fishing alone,” Velu promised.
xxx
The moon rose over the dark sea as they sat by the fragrant jasmine plant. She took out a small newspaper roll of salted peanuts and handed him some. They munched as she wove flowers into a string. Once she was done, he adorned her hair with it.
“Your hair is fragrant as it is. You don’t need the flowers.” Velu would whisper every time he did this.
Meena smiled faintly at the idyllic memories.
They needed very few words when they were together.
Velu, now sixteen, sat by the sea with her, mending broken fishing nets. He pulled out a little bracelet, stitched roughly with some string from an old fishnet. The stones were black, blue, and green. “I made this for you from the treasures of the sea.”
Meena’s eyes lit up. She put her arm out to him, and he tied it around her wrist.
“I love it! The blue stone is the best. I will never take this bracelet off.” Meena told him.
“Come fishing with me tomorrow.” He whispered into the dark mass of her hair.
“I will!” She smiled impishly.
The flush of dawn coloured the sky ochre. The horizon far away promised endless possibilities.
“Take me across the river,
Lest I drown without you.
Oh! The sea is so fierce…” His young voice soared into the sky as he pushed the boat out.
She threw up the whole day as he expertly manoeuvred the boat. He roasted fresh fish seasoned with salt, turmeric, and chilli on a stove. Her stomach heaved, and she couldn’t eat a single morsel.
The boat returned with its fresh catch. She tumbled out to the shore as his laughter caught the waves and rumbled into the sea.
“You are one fine fisherwoman!” He teased as he pulled her up, and she gave him a playful smack on his head.
“I am not coming fishing again with you. I am going to learn to sail my boat,” She retorted.
“Girls don’t go into the sea.“ He laughed.
“This girl will.” She declared.
That day she started making him a shell necklace. She chose the best and most beautiful tiny shells from her collection, gently made holes in them, and threaded them together on a piece of sturdy string. She sang a little prayer to Kadalamma, the protector goddess of the sea as she wove each shell into it.
She gave it to him as they sat by the jasmine tree. “This will keep you safe. Wear it.” She told him. He loved the feel of the shells on his bare skin.
xxx
The sea was rough that day. The sky frowned dark and rebellious. They paused in front of the statue of Kadalamma, and offered their prayers. She felt a knot in her stomach.
“The sea is angry today! Promise me you will come back,” she whispered.
“I will always come back to you.” He smiled, his teeth shining against his dark skin. His mop of unruly hair caught in the wind. He adjusted his checkered mundu and wrapped his white towel around his head. His shell necklace gleamed on his skin. She stood there, waving to him until he was just a speck on the horizon. She strained her ears to listen to the fading notes of his song as they merged with the rush of the waves.
Then there was just the vast, endless sea.
Velu did not come back that day. Or the next. The villagers searched for several days and nights. The sea seemed to have swallowed him, taking something back for all she yielded to the village.
There was panic and fear in the village. They had to appease the wrath of Kadalamma. They offered holy water, coconuts, and bananas. In obeisance, they put the first catch of the day back into the sea for a whole week.
Meena sat by the sea, refusing to budge. The villagers tried to take her home. Though the sky unleashed its torrential fury, she sat there, silent, unflinching – unwilling to leave the shore. She never spoke again.
At last, the sea was calm, as if sighing in remorse. The grey skies looked down in anguish. He is one with the sea now. His spirit will live here forever. They seemed to say, in the low, rumbling thunder that interspersed the rush of the waves.
The memory of Velu now lived on in lore, and her stony grief. She wished the waves would take her to Velu, but the sea, capricious and selective, ignored her.
Soon after, she buried her precious bracelet and her grief, deep in the sand.
The villagers left her alone. They believed that Velu, now a sea spirit, had possessed her. She lived by herself in a little house at the edge of the village.
xxx
Three decades passed. She had her own fishing boat and was the best boatwoman in the village. The deep sea was her solace. Her catch was the most sought-after. In the roaring silence, her ears never failed to seek Velu’s song.
xxx
The young girl was now sitting on the sand, quite forlorn – anguish written across her bare, bony shoulders. Her fingers straining the sand mindlessly. Meena felt a sob escape her – recalling a scene of so many lifetimes ago – and she closed her eyes.
She sensed a shadow passing by. She looked up and saw him. Just as he was on that fateful day when he had gone … away. His bright shiny face looked down at her. “Meenu Kutty!” he whispered. The hair was just as unruly as she remembered. Those eyes she knew so well looked sunken, but she saw a twinkle there as he smiled at her.
She took his firm, outstretched hand; his hand felt so young and fresh against her calloused palms. And doubted: Is it really you?
“I promised to come back, my love, but Kadalamma kept me shackled.” He said with a faint smile. He carried the smell of the waves and salt.
“Come with me!” She didn’t know if it was her voice echoing against him; or his thought that echoed in her mind.
She dragged him to the edge of the beach. He watched as she dug furiously into the sand with her bare hands. There it was, a single blue bead withered by time, bearing the ache of loss. She picked up what was left of her bracelet tenderly. It had changed. Bruised, discoloured, and broken, but still wondrously hers. Like him.
“Don’t you want to know where I was all these years?” Velu asked her.
“Will you make me a new bracelet exactly like the old one?” Her voice was an anxious rasp, worn out by a lifetime of silence, not bothered about where he had been. All that mattered was that he was here. And she was here, waiting for him.
“Only if you come fishing with me.” He smiled at her.
“This time, it is you who will come fishing with me!” She demanded. He nodded amused.
They lay then, on the sand, as the waves embraced them. She felt at peace – after a long, long time.
With her head ensconced in his armpit, she asked, her eyes as dreamy as any young lover: “Sing your song for me.” His voice was raw as it trembled and then soared.
The wistful melody of it seeped into her soul.
The blue bead lay tightly in her fist …
…when they found her the next morning
Mundu – A traditional garment wrapped around the waist.
Meenu Kutty- an endearment
Kadalamma: The goddess of the sea and protector of the fisherfolk.
