Bhadraksh

Bhadraksh eased down onto the sand, wriggling his toes into the warm crystals. Closing his eyes, he turned to face the sun and breathed in the sea air. A long, good life, indeed. And I've still got strong feet. He grinned as his toes wrestled with a small patch of seagrass. Polished from years of walking barefoot on the beach and browned by as many in the sun, his feet were lean, smooth and dark. Old Bhadraksh was proud of his feet. They'd carried him many miles, and although he had only a few left to go, they'd carry him there, as well. Ah, Anika, love. We should be walking these last steps together.

The hungry gulls hovering over the beach reminded him he hadn't eaten yet today and Bhadraksh shifted, contemplating the walk back. Palm trees swayed in the afternoon breeze, distracting him for several moments. That day I lost so much. Thank you, Madre Divino, for this illumination. You were right.

A rough-headed boy with Bhadraksh's eyes galloped over from the nearby shack and skidded down to join him in the sand.

"Avo! You missed lunch. We had pepper crab."

"Samir, my boy. Seat yourself. And how was the crab?"

"Spicy!"

Bhadraksh's eyes warmed, "You might wish you'd eaten noodles instead, later".

Samir rolled his eyes and grabbed his belly, slumping onto his grandfather's lap. The two grappled playfully for a few minutes, until the elder stilled the boy, stroking his bristled hair. Samir gazed up at his grandfather, admiring his full beard, his calm eyes. His Avo knew everything, had lived forever, and Samir had faith he always would.

"Avo? You look sad."

"I'm not sad." Bhadraksh shielded his eyes from the sun, his gaze lingering on the horizon. "Have you ever noticed the palm trees, how they sway?"

"Of course. I see them every day."

Bhadraksh stilled his hand on Samir's head. "Yes, but why do they sway, boy? To what purpose?"

The boy traced circles in the sand, relaxed in the warm sun. "Purpose? I don't know what you mean, Avo."

"The trees, the wind, the ocean, us. The crabs, even. We're all connected."

Samir fidgeted, a bit bored, but he didn't want to show disrespect. He watched the trees and the waves, how they moved to a similar rhythm. How the gulls would land on the beach, skipping above the water as it rolled under them. How the wind lifted the gulls, and swayed the palms, and rippled the water. He didn't understand this connection. Everything had always just been.

"Respecting the world around you is important, Samir. Everything that is has a purpose. And everything that fulfills its purpose finds harmony," Bhadraksh shifted the small boy's weight onto his other leg, his broad chest rising with a sea breeze sigh. "Well, now. I've decided I am a bit hungry. Why don't you tell Jhumpa I'll have some of that crab? I bet there's some left." Bhadraksh gently squeezed the boy's shoulder before setting him on his feet.

"Aren't you coming?"

"I'll be along. These old bones take their time."

Memories of the day Anika died played out behind his eyes. The tsunami had surprised them, descending without warning. The ocean had surged over the beach, destroying the fishing boats, flooding their small village, sweeping his wife away. They never found her. Bhadraksh railed against the gods for weeks, beyond reason and hope. He considered walking into the ocean and asking the Madre to take him, as well.

Then, inside of a breath, I understood. I am not here to suffer. I am here to understand.
And in that moment, Bhadraksh found harmony.

Months after his love disappeared into the depths, Bhadraksh waited for that last epiphany, the one that would illuminate not only his purpose but his path back to Anika. He trusted he was ready. He stood slowly, brushing the sand from the seat of his pants, and walked toward the shack, watching his feet brush through the seagrass.