Behind her crafted mask… Episode 12…

“Nothing in life is planned you know. Although we try to make our own plans and dream up our own dreams, nothing happens with calculated, measured and precisely planned actions. Things, well they just happen to us. The good, the bad, even the in between…. ”

 

We watch the waves crawl to the sand in quick and successive motions a few centimeters away from our toes. We sit atop a little sand hill. I rub my fingers in the cool and clammy sand. Dawn has just broken out of the lilac sky and the sun’s orange face yawns lazily out of the ocean, stretching its arms out widely before my eyes covering everything with a brilliant morning light.

 

There is something so beautiful about dawn. Its like everything just smells different, everything just looks different. I think its because everything has been touched by the hand of a Greater Being and then illuminated with a celestial glow….

 

“Do you remember when we visited the ocean that time? You were six I think. I couldn’t get you to stay out of the water!” …..

 

Her eyes trail off and I sit there just watching her get lost in time….

 

” Do you remember Leila?”

 

I smile and I nod as I softly say, “yes”….

 

My mother’s gray eyes are gentle as she looks at me. The gentleness strikes me as vaguely familiar. Maybe she had these eyes before… before she married my step-father.

 

Seagulls fly over the ocean, dipping low to take a sip or to look at their reflection on the waters surface, squawking as the sound of waves crash against our ears taking us to memories of years gone by, memories of lives and lifetimes gone by and it is almost as if we were never there, at the sea, with my dad, when I was six buying vanilla ice cream in a sugar cone which ran down my fingers making everything stick to me. It’s as if we just read about that story in a paperback novel that had a happy ending.

 

The wind blows her hair up in tufts. She looks beautiful, serene, peaceful and complete. She reaches out her hand and strokes it through my own hair as she tucks a piece behind my ear. Her gentle thumb grazes against my cheek lovingly and I tuck my head further into her touch. I am satiated like a baby to her mothers bosom. I could sit here for an eternity, in her company…..

 

We just sit there, watching each other, staring into the depths of two troubled oceans, two troubled souls, observing, loving, being….

 

I lick my lips to taste the salty humid air which clings to my skin. My mother points to something, to someone, in the distance. I turn to look but I don’t see anyone.

 

The squawking sound gets louder and the waves are suddenly volatile and violent. I look to my side but she is not there, like a figment of something from my mind, she is gone….

 

Louder and louder they scream, the sea gulls, but I close my eyes remembering how she ran her fingers through my hair… I never want to forget that moment, ever…..

 

A little girl in barbie pyjama’s tugs at my hair less gently than my mother just did a mere few moments before. The seagulls are quiet now. The waves are almost a distant sound but if I keep my eyes shut I could still hear them, crawling, crashing softly somewhere far away….

 

I open one eye and see two gorgeous brown eyes asking me for a bowl of cornflakes…..

 

Once again, reality sets in. I live in two worlds; the past and the present, the dream and the real world….

 

 

To be continued…

Haajar…

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