Sea stories
I squint into the afternoon glitter
and tried trace his figure humped,
next to the upturn catamaran.
A fisherman's life is just like the fish he catches,
trapped in the debt of life, he would say
sewing the torn net from the night,
a beedi ignited on the corner end of his lips.
A child in his curious best
I failed to catch his philosophical musings
and insisted more and more on deep sea stories,
the world underneath those huge waves.
He laughed as always he did.
You want me to tell about palatial palaces,
queens and kings,
sea horses and sea elephants, don't you?
He laughed again as he always did.
No kid there is nothing like that
it's a dumb story your mother has told,
there aren't even enough fish down there.
Not even fish.
I would clench my ears, yell at him
and run away for another story.
