Pebble by the beach

Its twilight but not quite dusky yet. With vastness of ocean stretching by my side, I wander off on a path delineated by coconut trees. I pretend that this path has no beginning, and no end. Just for a while, I live in ignorance. Just for a while, I live in cognizance. For once, I live in complete incompleteness. For once, I live in unfulfilled fulfillment. The worldly matters can wait, or not. For once, it doesn't matter. I ramble on; mesmerized.

I stoop to pick a handful of sand. The fine particles fondle with my palm, then jostle, but can't escape. I unclench my fist. The gentle breeze sweeping over the ocean sprinkles the sand back on to the beach. Its gone, all of it, but for one little pebble.

Hundreds of years in sea tides have eroded it. It has lost its originality. But it has also shaded sharp edges of inflexibility. The pebble, or whatever is left of it, still shines, even in the sinking sun. I stare at it for a while and then throw it into the sea, as far as I could. I turn my back towards the sea and start walking.

I will never see that pebble again, but when the tide rises tomorrow, and rise it will, it will bring the pebble back on to the beach.