The Breeze from the Sea by Greeshma Achar

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Workshop # 14
The Breeze from the Sea

The breeze blew in from the sea. The sun was almost below the horizon. The sand beneath us was still warm. Ram sat there quietly next to me. I didn’t quite know what he was thinking…I was afraid to ask…I looked over at the horizon. A few boats were still at sea, no doubt attempting to catch a last batch of fish before returning home…I looked over to the far side of the beach at the few children who were playing in the twilight…the familiar grief engulfed my heart once again…I looked at Ram…if only I knew what he was thinking…then I could at least say something to him.

Children playing…a bat, and a ball and makeshift wickets from tree branches…Suraj played the game with all the ferocity of every Indian boy obsessed with the ideology, the religion that is cricket…Suraj, who went on to captain his school and college cricket teams, and who almost made it through the state team selections…I remember how disappointed he was when he didn’t qualify…Suraj, who channeled his energy into his academics instead, and who graduated with honors and won a scholarship to a prestigious university in the UK…Suraj, who wrote a letter titled “Dearest Amma…” every week without fail…Suraj, who never could really understand the rift that grew between Ram and me as the years passed….I was busy with my teaching career, and Ram moved from job to job…often disgruntled with life, dissatisfied and cynical…my growing discontent with him…the love, and understanding we once shared seemed to be fading away…I thought of him as an inadequate husband, and an inadequate father…

I immersed myself in my work…that and my son were the only important things in my life.

Soon, I didn’t even have anything to say to Ram anymore…and I moved to my sister’s place. He didn’t stop me. I missed Suraj terribly, but he had just been hired by a big multinational firm, and could not take the time off to come to India. I pined for him. Life was lonely, but at least I had my work. I still got a letter every single week…until…that fateful, horrible day when Ram came to fetch me from my school…I just knew that something terrible had happened…they explained to me that it was a freak motor accident, involving an oil tanker. I didn’t want the details. I asked God a million times to take me away too. I could not eat, could not sleep, could not work. I met no one, spoke to no one…

I was more than surprised to see Ram at my sister’s gate that evening, and inwardly shocked but detached when he asked whether we could walk to the beach…I had not spoken to him since the accident…I did not know what to say to him…

We walked in total silence for a long time. Finally, we sat down on the warm sand to watch the sun go down. Suraj loved the beach as a child. He would build sand castles, and play in the waves, and run around looking for crabs and shells…

A cool breeze blew in from the sea. The setting sun lent its brilliant colors to the evening sky. Ram was quiet beside me. I looked at him. I suddenly thought to myself…here is the man I once loved and cherished, the man who helped bring Suraj into this world…here is the man I put below every other priority in life for so long…suddenly the reasons for all of that were not important any more…suddenly, the grief that held me captive eased just a little bit…suddenly I knew that Ram and I at least had each other…

Wordlessly I reached out for his hand. He grasped it so tightly, it almost hurt. In the distance, a dog and a child played together. The waves lapped gently against the sand. The sun was down for the day. The fishing boats were back now. Together we stood up, dusting the sand from our clothes. I turned to say something to Ram…to explain, to apologize, to share my grief, to ask him to share his…but I could not say anything…not just yet…

In the cool of the evening breeze, Ram looked at me, still holding my hand, and said simply, “Come, let us go home…”

– Greeshma Achar
March 26, 2004

Workshop # 14
Articles
A Weighty Reflection by Pavalamani Pragasam
As We Age by J. Ajith Kumar
Flying Colors by B.V Ramana Rao
Recycling and Creativity by Akila Sivakumar
Sunset Memories by Tyr Anon
You Are Not Alone... by S. Rajameena
Poetry
A Beautiful Evening by Smitha Abraham
A Picture of Tranquility by Swagata Bhattacharya
A Tale of Two Images by Pavalamani Pragasam
Affair of Nature by Neria Harish Hebbar, MD
Eternity's Shore by Dr. Madan G. Gandhi
Gloaming Effect by B.V. Ramana Rao
Just the Two of Us by AJ Rao
Low Tide by Dr. Padmashree C.G. Rida
Retention by Latha B.S
The Twilight Hours by Shernaz Wadia
The Postlude by Kumud Biswas
Stories
A Stranger in His Life by Dinanath Manohar
The Breeze from the Sea by Greeshma Achar
The Road and I ... by Anita Joseph

Workshop # 16 | 15 | 14 | 13 | 12 | 11 | 10 | 9 | 8 | 7 | 6 | 5 | 4 | 3 | 2 | 1

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