when love and hate collide

It is six O’ something clock in the evening. The air isn’t still. The water isn’t still. Neither are our hearts. The water brandishes in quick movements back and forth, the salt in the water reminding me of how deceptive looks can be. And the current! The invincible current, between us and the waves. There’s a bonding hormone; high levels of oxytocin; much like the current, and not necessarily in the water. The never-ending waves. Wishing and hoping that it will be never-ending for us too. The shore however doesn’t seem to care. Right now it appears to be busy fighting with the sea over which one should get a bigger helping of the waves.

I notice something on the horizon. A big red ball of a moon. Ever-so-slightly making its way above the ocean. Rising up steadily. It’s not so much the current I begin to think. Maybe it’s the moon, save the timeless continental drifts that’s working the waves too. It’s the moon fighting over the waves. It’s the moon permitting the waves to kiss the shore and return to Mother Ocean. Making it rise up and bend over. Rise up and bend over. And then, rise up, bend over, and crash into the shore. Is the moon letting the waves seduce the shore? Letting the waves mock at it?

Another Shakespeare in love. And now understandably, unmindful of a dozen pair of eyes watching us. Gliding through into a whole different cosmos. Barely two minutes pass by before someone scares the day-lights out of me, yanks me back to reality, and hands me a camera. I curse my ill-luck at being driven back to reality from my world. I cringe, as a war of embarrassments race through my nerves. The hair on my nape stand upright. ONE humble request for one last dance. One regretful denial. Living in a land of carnal needs and of rueful denial, I realize the two just don’t seem to co-exist! I curse my ill-luck again!

This is just one clandestine evening of desperate urgence. I dip my feet in the insistent lapping water. I assure the waves “It’s ok. I’m here.” They don’t seem to care though. The war continues. The ocean wants a bigger portion of the waves. But the shore invites them with the promise of sparking white sand. Mother Ocean finally wins, tearing out her waves away from the shore. They still claw their way forward but fall prey to the ocean again. She wins again. She wins yet again. She wins every single time! The waves fall into her arms and relax only for a brief second, before they crave for land.

A dogmatic thought crosses my mind. I quickly brush it aside, reminding myself yet again of the hardships it puts me through; and the hardships I put it through. The heart!

Love has a lot of reasons to be hated. It’s all about the time I tell myself. Now, how could it be the right time if it feels sooooooo wrong? I stop mulling over it anymore.

I dismiss the thought and continue to cruise the length of the beach. With each step, taking in the beauty of the sea. With each step, enjoying the therapeutic rarity of romance. With each step, the sounds of the guileless laughter of the boys fading into the distance…

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PS: A work of fiction!