Bottle in the ocean
It started with a boring day, like all the other days. Thinking back to it, I could’ve done about a hundred things, but I chose to stick with the first idea that popped into my head, which resulted in an adventure, nothing the likes of which I had ever experienced before.
It was a hot summer’s day in the small town of Pondicherry. The sun was being cruel as per usual and I was getting restless watching the hours tick by. Times like these I wish I had some friends hanging about, but all my little school buddies were no doubt having parties in big cities, driving cool cars and living in luxury apartments, while I was sitting in my room gazing dumbly at one spot of the ceiling where the painters had left a single fingerprint. I rolled off of my bed and onto the floor. A small hole in my curtain let in a beam of sunlight which I glared at. Pissed that my glaring did not affect the inanimate light, I decided to go out. Slipping on my sandals, I picked up my cap and wallet and exited the room, making sure my door was properly closed. Our house was a duplex, my room being on the first floor. Another room was meant to serve as a guest room, but I treated it as my personal storeroom. On the ground floor was my parents’ room, the biggest one in the house, and my grandmother’s room next to it. Grandma would be sitting on her rocking chair, listening to old songs on the radio. Father was never at home. He lived overseas, working in some engineering firm. I had never formed much of a relationship with him but pretended to miss him every now and then. Mother loved him, at least that’s what she told me. Right now, she was on her phone, watching some English movie. She liked those, sometimes we watched together.
“Kidhar, Ara?” My mother asked, without taking her eyes off the screen. Ara is what she calls me, to the rest of the world, my name is Arasi.
“Amma, I’m just going to get some ice cream. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Wait, there’s a list in the kitchen and money under it. Pick some stuff up on your way back. Jaldi aana.”
“Can I keep the change? Service tax.” I asked cheekily
She chuckled, and I assumed she was laughing at my joke, not at whatever was going on her screen.
Stepping out made me almost reconsider the decision to leave my room. It was sweltering hot. The sun was so bright it made my head ache. Skin burning, I stepped back onto my porch, scrunching my face up in displeasure. An uncle passing by laughed and waved at me. I smiled and bowed my head a little, muttering out a weak namaste.
“Beta it’s too hot today, eh?”
I forced a small laugh and nodded in affirmation. I had never seen this man in my life. Before he could start to ask me any questions about the well-being of my whole family, I bravely stepped into the sun and started walking.
The shop wasn’t far away, but a walk in this heat made me hate every step I took. Why didn’t I just pick up an umbrella? Why did I make the decision to go to the supermarket in the afternoon? Why couldn’t I just sit and read a book? I watched the flower sellers laughing together under the peepal tree and fan themselves with newspapers. Some shopkeepers were sitting together, chatting good-naturedly. Makes sense, what customer would dare to venture out right now? The dusty road made this place look like a desert. Shade was rare, but I didn't want to stop now. After all, I was out of the house now, no point going back. Thoughts of cold ice creams and milkshakes floated in my mind, and I mentally made a list of all the snacks I was supposed to get for myself. Thinking made the time go by faster and before long, the storefront came into view.
The AC brought me back from the dead. I took a deep breath and walked towards the freezer, taking an ice pop out. Signalling to the man working the counter, I tore off the wrapper and started eating while looking over the list. Groups of teenagers were hanging out in the corners, sharing a bag of chips and checking their phones. Something about teenagers made me nervous, don’t know why, I was a teenager once but even then, I was scared of them. Avoiding their eyes, I picked out the things and moved on to the next aisle. As slowly as I could, I wandered around the whole place, dragging on my visit, especially sticking around the candy shelves.
On my way out I picked out another ice pop and a bottle of juice which the shopkeeper packed for me.
“Tell your mother that we have fresh vegetables coming in tomorrow.” The uncle told me.
“Sure thing!”
On my way back home, I decided to go to the beach. In a few hours, it would be evening anyway. The shops were opening back up, and a few people starting to come out. I found my usual spot under a tree with the ocean view to relax for a while. Opening up the juice bottle, I wondered what to do today. There was a boy who was constantly asking me out on a date, maybe I could get on that. Not like he was particularly appealing, but my mother was on my case about meeting some nice boy to settle down with. Taking out my phone from my back pocket, I typed out a message to him. This was not going to turn into anything, but it kept my mother quiet, so I’d bear with it. Pocketing my phone once again, I stared at the ocean. Such beautiful blue color. A few fishermen were fumbling with their nets in the distance. Sitting alone was quite peaceful. It gave me time to relax and just think about nothing. I had everything I could ask for, a good home, an income, and quiet. Life was perfect and safe. It made me wonder if I would leave any mark on this world. Probably not. A few years after my death, nobody would remember I existed, that I sat under this very tree and looked out this same ocean. A person no doubt sat here a hundred years ago. I looked around to see if there was any sign someone might’ve left as proof of their existence. Nope, just dirt. Maybe I should leave something. A message. There was a sense of déjà vu as I remembered the dream I had last night. It was hazy around the edges, but I had dreamt about writing a letter and sending it out to the ocean.
Quickly I tore a page from my pocket diary and wrote a message on it. Stuffing the rolled-up paper into the now empty juice bottle, I shut it tight with a piece of rubber and string I found lying around. I hoped the water won’t get inside and spoil it. This bottle, I would give as a souvenir to the ocean. Someday it would be washed up on a shore. Maybe someone will get curious enough to take out this note and read what I’ve written. This would be my legacy, kind of, if I wanted to be dramatic about it. At the very least, it was a weight off my back. I never quite liked keeping secrets. Maybe it would just find its way back to me in a few years. Walking to the edge of the water, I threw the bottle as far as I could. For a while, it seemed like the ocean couldn’t decide whether to keep my gift or return it to me. This was technically littering. I watched as the bottle drift away from me, carried on by the waves. Then came the guilt about throwing trash in the ocean. To make it up, I apologized to it and got a bag to collect some litter from the beach and throw it away. I had spare time anyway.
It was early evening when I got the call from my ‘date’ to come to hang out at a local café. Stretching, I picked up my things and left.
It had been a few weeks since my bottle had been in the ocean. I hadn’t found the time to go to my usual spot of late. There was a big order from a client which needed to be finished as soon as possible and most of the time I was in my workshop slaving away. Thankfully, I managed to finish it a whole two days before the deadline. It was time for a break! The next week’s orders were all done and this one would be sent today. Dining furniture always took me the longest to get done. Coffee tables were my favorite. Less effort, more creative liberty. Srilakshmi, the interior designer I worked with, had already taken it off of my hands so it was time to take a break and relax. I desperately wanted to go back to the beach and sit in silence. It was 4 in the morning so the whole place would be almost empty. Picking up my sketchbook, a pencil, some snacks, and my backpack, I went off. I hadn’t gotten any sleep last night, but there would be plenty of time for it once I got home so it was probably fine. In any case, I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t put my mind to rest first. My scooter started up in a few kicks and I set off. Mornings in my city were beautiful. I guess mornings anywhere were beautiful but I was unashamedly biased.
The sand was so cool. I lay down with no regard for my clothes. Anyway, I would take a shower at home so might as well enjoy the current moment. The sky was grey, and the waves seemed to be higher than usual. It was going to rain today, a thunderstorm, if my hunch was right. Strange, given the season, but I had come to expect unexpected things. It’s never a good idea to think of nature as predictable. Closing my eyes, I reminded myself not to fall asleep. There was going to be a storm, and I’d rather not be caught up in it. If my eyes were open, I would’ve noticed the fog that was creeping up to the shore, and the sounds of birds fading away.
When my train of thought stopped, I noticed just how quiet everything was. Opening my bleary eyes, my whole body jolted awake. Just a few meters away from me was the hull of a huge black ship. I fumbled backwards and my gaze darted all around. The usual houses and small hotels dotting the shore were nowhere to be seen. There was nothing except the ship and this heavy fog that seemed to emanate from it. Willing my frozen legs to move, I slowly bent down and gathered my backpack in my arms. The sheer size and closeness of this thing shocked me enough to not think about how it had moved so noiselessly and how it was parked right on the shallow water. A grotesque statue of a mermaid was attached to the front, pointing forward. I turned around and ran. It didn’t matter where. Neither the ocean, nor my dreams had warned me about this incoming beast and that irritated me a little. I almost didn’t see the sword pointed directly at me running straight ahead. Twisting my whole body to the right, I narrowly avoided being impaled by it and tripped. The fog cleared around the bearer of the said sword. Still pointed towards my face, this person stepped forward. A sweet scent wafted into my nose. Dressed in a linen shirt, heavy red coat, and black trousers stood a woman taller than anyone I knew. On her coat were a lot of gold embellishments and jewels that jingled and shined as she moved. Her hair was curly and long, with a lot of braids and some more decorative things weaved into them. All this jewelry must be heavy, was my first thought. The second one was that this woman was going to kill me. Begging for mercy occurred to me, but her eyes looked ruthless and her smirk malicious, so I decided against it. With one hand still holding the sword, she pulled out a piece of paper from inside her coat with the other one and started reading.
“Hello”
