The waves lapped on the rocks as the tide came in. A gentle swish sound. Calming and soothing to the ears. It was a typical Karachi summer morning; the very deceptive kind I may add. The sky was overcast; the perfect cloud cover. The kind that you get before the heavens burst into tiny droplets. As I looked out to the sea my heart yearned for the rain. The rain drops to drench the soul and make the heart smile. But no rain came.
Karachi, my city, why do you deceive me? Where do all your clouds go? Do they ever rain? Do they water distant distant lands? I remember often asking my mom these very questions when as a child I looked out of the window on a summer morning much like the one today.
A beautiful day it was. The sea looking a muddy green, not the deep green colour that I had seen before but a different captivating shade of green. Quite difficult to describe this colour. I thought, I looked into my vocabulary searching for words to describe the colour of the sea. Something of cross between mossy green and brown, like the forest floor under a thick canopy of trees. A floor which had not had much sunshine and the green had slowly turned a shade of brown. Sun occasionally broke from the cloud cover and made its presence felt. The heat on my face as I looked out to sea. I pulled the cap over my eyes.
Out to the sea were sailing boats. The white boats with white sails, pushed along over the waves by the wonderful strong breeze. They dotted the green sea. Their sails taut, boats wobbling up and down as the waves came. The boat occupants held on strong to the ropes and rudders, moving at an amazing speed. I was mesmerised by their graceful rocking movements.
The bright orange Buoys moved up and down as the waves pounded them. They were placed to help the sailors keep their sense of direction in the vast sea. The boats came in fast towards the buoy near the shore and then slowly went around the buoy, the sail flipped with the change in wind direction. The sailor swiftly ducked under the sail and moved from one side of boat to the other side to maintain the balance. The boat was again back to sea moving with great speed. With some 10 boats out to the sea, this repetitive scene was quite enthralling.
My kids were experimenting with sailing. As I watched them from shore my heart raced, just a bit. Despite my recent encounters with the sea and my swim classes I still feared the sea. Its delusive calm appearance broken by the waves made my heart unsure. Not for one second could I take my eyes of the green sea and tiny boats bobbing up and down on the waves. I watched glued fearing that I may miss seeing my children.
I was happy that my kids didn’t fear the sea like me. When their tiny boats capsized they were not scared as the waves leaped over them. They quickly pulled the boat straight and got back in. I was very proud of them.
As I stood on the shore I debated with my heart. Let your fears go, I said. All it will take is a step in the boat. There will be wind in your face. O the speed, the adrenaline rushing through your veins as the boat dashed forwarded accelerating with the wind. The sea is friendly I said softly. The boat is sturdy I tried to convince myself. My heart said another day. I’m not ready for this adventure.