I could never resist the temptation of a morning walk on the beach in Goa. I loved to see the beach glow in the light of the morning sun. I also had to negotiate my way, around the dead jellyfish and water snakes washed ashore. Their world did not need them anymore.
The low tides in life, are nothing but the recession of high tides… of the euphoria and cheer that encircles success. What would happen, if I conquer the peak of a snow-capped mountain? The sun would ensure the melting away of snow, leaving me to my devices, to traverse the path downwards.
Do I need to time my movement for survival, or just follow my instincts? The inevitability of the cycle is like the stark certainty of Death. One could only delay, not avoid it.
The sunrise is a reminder that the night will end. It is also a reminder that tumultuous heat waves follow the cool calm of the night. The intensity of sunlight leaves nothing to imagination. In a low tide, you know who stands by you, and who has returned to the whirlpool of life – the same place where you are not needed. They will come back to the shore, again and again, to dump a few more …. till they find themselves amongst the dumped. The descent from the mountain needs a different set of equipment, speed and alignment to the terrain.
The sunrise is only a reminder that the day breaks. But, it is not the same day, which you have lost. The future beckons, and we trod over the past – just like those jellyfish on the shore. One must stay aware that it will all end.
Hold me as long as
your self interest permits, till
whirlpools suck you away.
Haibun inspired by Sue Vincent’s #writephoto contest