Being man (part 1)

I found him picking pebbles and throwing them with some dexterity into the sea. A smile took over my face as I remember how he used to do copycats of the antics of a hunk from the American League he watched on TV for some time, with little success. That was when we were several years younger. I did not think he really dreamt of running on the diamond professionally. He simply wanted to get a feel of being like that man he appeared to idolize. When the picking and throwing ceased, he planted himself on the sand. I noticed, however faintly, the two bottles by his side. Had he already downed them both? He stretched his hands back, palms on the sand, to support his body, and with bended knees, he started gazing up. I raised my eyes to the direction on which he darted his attention and saw the three brown, winged creatures fluttering about against the fading blue sky. I could not hold myself from admiring how gracefully those creatures of heaven fanned their tools as they went up to the west toward the sun, switched to the right and glided down as if to chase the waves. Apparently, he enjoyed the show being staged, for not a moment did he withhold his eyes from them to lay his sight on anything else.

I have known him as one of the few people among my acquaintances who took great pleasure in just being on the spot where sea and land met. Removed from the exhaustive stir of society, the shores provided him a haven of peace and always had a way of lending him a good measure of freedom. The freedom to let himself be. I understood that it was only during these times when his feet touched the sand that he could think out loud. The company of others did not allow him much time of repose. On the beach where the firmament, the birds, the blue water, the crawling things on the sand, were the only beings who knew him, he could shout out in pure honesty the things the troubled his heart and unsettled his mind. And the cool air tumbling around rushed to him to ease him of his problems by embracing him tightly as though it understood all he was going through. To him, God, who eternally understood him well, visited him under the guise of the wind. And he loved the wind. (January, 1998)

To be continued...