700 – That’s the number of post I will be reaching soon. It took me more than 4 and half year of existence to reach here. Its been a journey, a journey to my past, present and future. Many people have never met me but had been a part of the journey. On the occasion of 700th post, I continue with the tradition of Full2 Faltu, when I invite guest writers to write. The guest posts are for 15 writers and it will continue till 699.
These writers have chosen to write to be a part of charity. I hope you like what they write. They would love your comments.
Presenting the next in the series. The earlier being
Blue Hues has been born many times with different names. This avtaar has remains consistent for a long time. She stays in Mars. What’s Mars? Find out about in her blog. But Mars is surrounded by the sea and sea has waves, many many waves. This is the story of the waves.
And then there is the beach… I could sit for hours and days there without ever getting bored or restless as usually is the case with me. Like that pacifying influence the temple exercises on some, the beach goes beyond being a mere shrine. It’s the dwelling, the spot i call mine, yes, in the shade of the tree. With not a thing to do, but sit and gaze and be involved in a world beyond my reality…
When we were kiddos and were swimming in this sea, Nuka and I would be naming the waves as they would unfold, “here’s a baby wave, a mummy wave, and a papaaaaaa wave–swim for your lives gang”!! How we would paddle, paddle away the swiftest our limbs could.
So here is the story of the wave. You might have heard of many before, but since each one of these waves is uniquely different from the other…
It’s all about a race they are running, them waves. All of them are orderly aligned out there, excited and eager to see each other’s performance and eager to act out theirs too.
It’s ShowTime, some are going for the race for the first time, some are veterans of the game and some are part of the audience. The young waves look at the old ones suspiciously, overhearing their stories curiously but all the same telling themselves that they are going to be far more impressive than the old ones had ever been, had ever seen. The old waves only nod and smile, remembering their first time, but also are they eager to perform yet again. The audience? After the main show, even they are allowed to come on stage and ‘perform’. It’s the word of the day.
A roar of thunder and an exhilarating calm reigns. The show is about to start. Some tensed murmurs here and there and then the lightning crackers. Them waves’ hearts are beating wild. It’s the day they have been waiting for eagerly, their big day. A cyclone doesn’t come everyday, it drops by only once in a while, just like the circus which moves from town to town. Another roar from the sky and they are off! One after the other… I wish I could tell you about each of them. As I told you, each one is unique in its own style.
All the same, at the risk of seeming shallow…
There are the excited ones, the ones who more interested in being liberated, the ones who are ‘excited’ (yet again) at the thought that they are being watched. They start off frenzied, rising and falling alternatively, like a sine (the word was invented after them). They are mostly the ones who are there for the first time.
There are the ones who go unnoticed but who enjoy the thrill of dancing their act out. They flow and safely touch the rocks softly (yes that’s where the race somewhat ends), happily ride back to the horizon. They smile, content with themselves. They are the ones who aren’t looking for any medal, happened to have come across the cyclone and show. Thought they would give it a shot…
Then the ‘old waves’… They move about cautiously because they know, that even though they rule, the sea isn’t about them only. The sea holds many secrets. These waves move slower than the others, because they feel like analyzing every nook and crook of the ocean. Maybe sometime they perform a lil pirouette, but that it is the much they perform…
Moving on, oh there are so many waves…. and the sky keeps playing the tambour while they dance out and so do the winds…
And then when you thought the show was just over comes this majestic wave. Have you seen it? Does it rise high up, towards the sky, as if willing to shut the roar and the lightning, as if willing to reach out to ‘em all elements, to stop time, for it to enjoy its ride eternally. The passion with which it rises, yet moving forward, collecting all treasures of the ocean in its furore….
The audience is stunned, so are the other waves, too astounded by the sight. It’s one which they had all come for, they all secretly wished to be but couldn’t ever be. This wave was THE wave….
Higher and higher up, it creates super havoc, the poor fish are scared and so are the other waves, for this is the destructive wave too. The wave is basking in this intensity, giving its dance his/her all. The wave believes it has to be the very best, he is overtaken by the wish to exceed, go beyond…. and in this temperament, its limit is the sky.
Stunned by its own capacities, while still unraveling more energies and lost in its reverie, the wave forgets an important thing…. That once the music is over, he is supposed to bow and retreat as gracefully. Our wave has forgotten about the shore. Yes the shore, there were the huge black boulders await him. Wave believes he is mightier than those, that he would crash them all and still move forward. Oh our wave can be so naive.
… the glistering jet black rocks, they’ve known many such waves. The rocks mockingly watch the wave. They fail to admire its grandeur, its passion. They only see a potential enemy who’s threateningly staring at them, eyeing them since long…
The rest you know… Wave unfurls on the boulders and ends up breaking them apart but so does it…. Leaves behind some shells which it had been carrying for so long with it, some lil animals, some corals, all memories of what a beautiful wave it had been. The wave? Oh it has dissipated in a white foam…. Sometime again, it recollects itself and retreats, but very slowly.
Back to the Horizon. Yes, there where it all ends and all starts. You thought it ended at the shore? Nooo… It starts all over again. At the Horizon….
While Nuka and I pick up shells…..