By G Venkatesh
“Limitless and immortal, the waters are the beginning and end of all things on earth.” -- Heinrich Zimmer, German Indologist and linguist
Little Varshita has an inborn affinity for proximity to water bodies. A June-born Cancerian, she eagerly looks forward to short walks along the Marina Beach in Chennai – the second-largest urban beach in the world. Five-and-a-half years old now, she is a prodigy eagerly looking forward to starting school next year. Whether her genius owes itself to nature or nurture or both, is difficult to say. It can be mentioned here that both her parents are teachers. She also possesses a very high emotional intelligence for her age. Perhaps there is a connection here to the aforementioned affinity for proximity to water bodies. Perhaps not.
“Appa[1], can we go to the beach today?”
“We were there two days ago, Varshita. Can we go tomorrow instead?” Her father Ramesh who wants to watch a cricket match on television at home, smilingly attempts to dissuade her.
“Okay, no problem, Appa. Can I watch Animal Planet then this evening? If they show fish and crabs and whales and sharks and dolphins and orcas and octopuses and squids and seals and penguins….and….my-aunties?”
“Your aunties? Are Periyamma[2] and Aththai[3] going to be seen swimming, on Animal Planet?” Ramesh asks with a wink and a smile, eagerly expecting a response from Varshita.
“Noooo…M.A.N.A.T.E.E.S…” She hurls a pillow playfully at Ramesh, realising that he is pulling her leg.
“Ah, I see! Those creatures which are also called sea-cows.”
“Are they also called sea-cows, Appa? I did not know that. Now I do. But I knew sea-lions.” Ramesh is happy that he has invested in his daughter’s knowledge bank. Perhaps, his sister and sister-in-law are not going to be very happy if Varshita decides to share the joke with them. His sister especially does not have a sense of humour.
“Do not share this joke with your aunties, Varshita.”
“I promise, but in return you have to take me to the beach three times next week,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Done! Good girl!”
Varshita looks at Ramesh and knows that she has somehow gotten her way, tactfully. Little girls wiser than men; cleverer too, thinks Ramesh, recalling the Leo Tolstoy story about Akulya and Malasha[4], he had read in school in the ninth grade.
.
The waters of the Bay of Bengal are calm. Waves, longing for contact with the littoral sands, swoosh against the shore. Even though there are many people there on the beach, they seem to be observing silence in deference to the Sea-God. Varshita tends to speak less when out on these walks. She watches Mother Nature intently, listens carefully to Her sounds, and once in a while her curiosity leads her to ask a carefully-thought-out question. Ramesh does his best to reply, and whenever he is not able to find an answer instantly, he makes it a point to put the question on the back-burner, give it serious thought, and get back to Varshita with the answer. At times, that is even a day or two later. Once in a while, there are unanswerable questions hurled at him. Being a senior lecturer at the Indian Institute of Technology, he is used to this practice. After all, his daughter is also his student – a special one at that.
“Appa, is it okay to throw a chocolate wrapper into the water?”
“No, Varshita. It is not. One must not pollute the environment.”
“But then why are there so many things lying around here? That is bad, right?”
“Yes, it is. Very much so. But maybe, people will learn not to do so, and when you are an adult, you will see that the beach is perfectly clean.”
She looks up, nods and smiles.
“Appa, when the waves come and take all these things into the sea, what happens to them?”
“ A good question, Varshita. Many things which you see lying here are harmful to the animals which live in the water. All the animals you like seeing in the Animal Planet.”
“I will not throw anything, Appa, when I come here with you to walk.”
Ramesh and Varshita do a high-five, and Ramesh tells her that he is very proud of her.
The blue sky starts turning grey and some clouds float in. Precisely at that moment, Varshita sees a little girl with a sack on her back, and a stick in her hand, bending down and picking up a plastic bottle.
“Appa, what is she doing?”
“She is doing a very good thing. People throw things, and this little girl is collecting them, so that they do not get dragged into the sea to cause harm to the animals living in it. There are many people like her in our city. They are poor, yes. But we have to be thankful to them for what they do for us.”
It starts drizzling, and Ramesh tells Varshita that they have to head home. She keeps looking sideways at the little girl with the sack, as they walk away from the sea. Unanswered questions, for sure, start piling up in that four-and-a-half-year-old brain of hers.
.
Rains reign in Chennai for the next three days. Varshita knows that she cannot compel Ramesh to take her out to the beach for a walk. Ramesh however remembers the promise, and keeps checking the weather forecast every day. On Thursday, he tells Varshita that it is going to be sunny for four days at a stretch.
“So, can we go the beach tomorrow, the day after and the day after the day after?”
He chuckles, realising that his daughter remembers the promise in letter and spirit.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because I am happy to go to the beach three evenings in a row with you. We must also ask Amma[5]to come along.” He winks, and they do a high-five.
“Yes, that will be fun. But Amma is afraid of the waves.”
“We will help her to get over her fear. But you must convince her to come with us.”
“Yes! I take on that challenge,” she says.
Ramesh’s wife Megha works as a school-teacher. She picks up Varshita daily from the kindergarten on her way back home from school. “Amma, are you interested in coming to the beach tomorrow evening with me and Appa?’
Megha looks at Varshita and studies the expression on her face. She realises that the last time she was out with Ramesh and her for a walk on Marina Beach, was over a month ago. She agrees.
“You do not seem really interested,” says Varshita.
Megha is taken aback. “How can you say that?”
“It is written all over your face,” Varshita says.
Megha bursts out laughing. “Well, whatever is written on my face, I will join you both tomorrow. That is a promise.”
“Yes!” Varshita does a V-sign this time.
.
Friday evening happens to be just the perfect time to be out on Marina Beach. Yes, there are some stray clouds, but they do not seem to be in a mood to discharge their content in Chennai. Some other place is destined to receive rainfall from them.
Megha, Ramesh and Varshita buy three ice-creams, and walk down closer to the shore. Megha spreads a large plastic sheet, and they sit down on it. Varshita remembers the little girl with the sack on her back she had seen on the previous weekend and starts looking around. Call it intuition or what you will, she spots her about 50 metres away. The girl spots a big plastic bottle floating on the water, but is a bit wary of the waves advancing to the shore.
“Appa, can I go and help her to retrieve that plastic bottle? I like getting my feet wet in the water.”
Megha glares at Ramesh and nods her head from left to right, signalling to him that he must not give in to Varshita’s request. Ramesh winks at Megha. “I will go with her. Do not worry.”
The father-daughter duo walks towards the girl, and Ramesh tells Varshita to go and talk to her. She is as tall as Varshita is, and may perhaps be a little older than her. Not more than six years old, for sure.
“You want to get that bottle?”
“Yes, but I am afraid of the waves.”
“I will get it for you. Wait here.”
Varshita looks at Ramesh, who gives her the thumbs-up sign. The little girl notices that and smiles.
Varshita takes off her slippers, and leaves them beside her father. “Take care of them, Captain, till I come back.”
Laughing aloud, she wades two metres into the sea when the nearest incoming wave is still a few metres away. She retrieves the bottle, turns and walks up to the girl, and says, “Here. I managed to get it for you. It was easy. My name is Varshita. What is your name?”
The girl smiles gratefully, accepts the bottle, and drops it into her sack. “My name is Mary. You are not afraid of the waves, Varshita?”
“I used to be.” She points to Ramesh and continues, “Appa told me not to be. He said that we must be careful, not afraid. But you know what, Amma is still afraid.”
“You visit the beach daily, Varshita?”
“Appa and I like to walk here sometimes. I love the sea. How about you?”
Mary looks into the distance. “I do not know if I love the sea or not. I just come here to look for things like these.”
“What do you do with them? Appa says that we must be thankful to all of you who clean up the beaches. He says that you help to stop damage being done to the fish.”
Mary smiles weakly. “You see my Amma there,” she points to a woman with a bigger sack hunting for treasures, about 100 metres away. “I will give these to Amma. Then my Amma and Appa will sell these and get money. Then we buy food and eat.”
Varshita listens intently, as she always does. “You like ice-cream, Mary?”
“Yes, I ate an ice-cream long ago. On Christmas Day.”
“Wait here,” says Varshita. She runs to where Ramesh is guarding her slippers, puts them on, and runs to her mother. “Amma, can I give my ice-cream to Mary over there? I just helped her to get that plastic bottle.”
“I saw you doing that, dear. I am so proud of you. Yes, you can give her your ice-cream. It is melting away slowly. Ask her to eat it quickly.”
Varshita grabs the ice-cream cone and runs towards Mary with a cherubic smile of her face. “Here, Mary. Your second ice-cream.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I will eat Amma’s. She usually does not eat her ice-cream and ends up giving it to me.”
“Will you be coming tomorrow, Varshita?”
“Yes, that is the plan. And the day after tomorrow also.”
“At this time?”
“Yes, and you?”
“I am not sure. I go with Amma wherever she goes. If she chooses to come here, it will be at this time.”
“What is that you are wearing around your neck?” Varshita asks, pointing to the little crucifix.
“Oh, this one. This is Jesus. Our God. I got this on the same day I ate my first ice-cream.”
Mary’s mother is calling out to her from a distance. “I am so happy that you got me the bottle and then gave me your ice-cream. You are a good person. Can we be friends?”
Varshita smiles cutely, and extends her hand for a handshake. Mary reciprocates, puts her little sack on her right shoulder, holds the stick in the right hand and the ice-cream in the left, and hurriedly walks towards her mother.
“Eat the ice-cream quickly. It will melt away,” shouts Varshita.
“Yes, I will,” Mary shouts back.
.
The next day, Mary’s mother decides to take her to a stretch of the beach further away. The day after that, Varshita feels a little unwell and the trip to the beach is called off. The two girls never meet each other again in Chennai.
But as we already know, God’s ways are mysterious. Many years pass, before they meet again in Bengaluru in a public school. One in her capacity as the mother of a girl named Sarah, and the other in her capacity as Sarah’s science teacher.
[1] Father
[2] Mother’s elder sister. In Tamil, transliterated.
[3] Father’s sister (elder or younger). In Tamil, transliterated.
[4] Leo Tolstoy’s parable Wisdom of Children was first published in 1885.
[5] Mother
G Venkatesh is an Associate Professor in Karlstad University, Sweden. E-mail: Venkatesh_cg@yahoo.com
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