The Tingra River flowed gently under the orange hues of the setting sun. The sky transformed into a vibrant canvas of oranges and pinks reflecting off the water's surface in a shimmering display of colors. Birds chirped their final songs of the day. The outline of a quaint village and the spires of the historic church were seen at a distance. The 80-year-old lady walked with the help of a walking stick. Her steps were careful and deliberate. The frayed handmade scarf was wrapped snugly around her neck. She wrapped herself in a battered blanket. Her eyes were lined with the marks of time and looked lifeless. The determination in her eyes belied the weariness in her body. Facing the ice-cold breeze, she walked towards her favorite place. She placed her blanket and walking stick on the sand and carefully sat on the small rock. She looked at the sky for some time and wrote ‘błyskotliwy’ (“brilliant” in Polish) in the sand with her finger. As if to acknowledge her act, lightning flashed. She then raised her head and a smile appeared on the wizened face. She wrapped herself in the blanket, held her walking stick in her hand, and walked back. She walks 20 furlongs every day in the cold weather to scribble something on the sand and no one knows why.
“Nature is the best-known artist; for she paints with her brilliant orange shades in blue canvas of the sky” – Merwin, sitting in his mom’s lap, said. Iva slid her long fair fingers through the silky hairs of her son, tears in her wrinkled eyes blurred the beautiful sight. Merwin was diagnosed with leukemia even before he knew what it meant. The 14-year-old lad somehow knew that his days were numbered. He used to fall unconscious and then recover after some time. Iva knew that one day he would fall unconscious and sleep forever.
Iva earned their modest living by fishing and Merwin used to go to the nearby village school. It seemed even gods were jealous of their love for each other. Though the killer disease is known for its immense pain, Merwin never cried in front of his mom. They never did it in front of each other. Maybe they were selfish in sharing the sorrow or were so lost in each other’s happiness that they forgot the pain when they were together. The latest verdict came from the god as a part of the yearly checkup with the nearest doctor in the suburbs, “6 more months… and I would call it a miracle.”
Days, weeks, and months passed by. Another sunset…nature once again with its daily share of masterpiece art on the horizon. A cool breeze blew, birds on their way to nest, tiny grass waving in response and Merwin nestled in the warm lap of his mom. “What if I don’t wake up tomorrow? '' He asked. Iva looked up at the sky, maybe, that was an attempt to hide her tears. He continued “If I die, you should come here and watch the sunset. I’ll be the god then. You never know, I may be the one who paints the sky then. I know more than god what colors you like the most. Write on the sand if you like them. I’ll flash the lighting once you are done. People may think you are crazy, but then only we know the secret.” A tear fell on his cheek. She cuddled and kissed him on his forehead with all her warmth.
And Iva does it every day, though old age had already turned her blind.
…..Do we need to be alive to love someone?
…..Do we need to be alive to be loved?
