Of Fantasies and Fantods

“You think I can make it?” She asked playing with the sand in front of her. He rested his chin on her shoulder.

They sat cuddled up with him enveloping her with his arms from behind. They were at the beach, looking at the waves. This was their favourite place; sufficiently away from the various stalls so that they won’t be disturbed, and close enough so that they weren’t in the dark. They did not like hiding behind the boats like the other couples did. There they sat everyday, from a little before sunset to well after it. They liked watching the sun disappear slowly into the sea; the waves that hit the shore; the vendors calling out the names of their products; young couples giggling and blushing; older couples taking a walk; the middle-aged ones chasing and chased by their children; and the little kids running here and there.

They spoke little, if anything at all. They seldom played with the water. They were there, content with each other’s presence; that was all that mattered to them. If one of them was late, the other would just sit there, in a manner of reserving the place, their place. And then the other one would just come and join. There would be no drama, of welcome; or no quarrels, for the delay. Occasionally when either of them was too happy, they’d just brush their lips on the other’s cheek; and if perturbed, they’d just hold hands. When they were together, they felt a sense of quiet; serene and peaceful. But today, they did not.

“Make it? You’ll do great!!” He said, mustering all the enthusiasm he could bring out. She tilted her head to look at him. Looking at his eyes, which spoke more than his words, she knew he was telling the truth; only the eyes couldn’t feign the spirit his voice did. She threw her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. They sat, holding each other for a long time. It was time to leave. She kissed his cheek and got up.

Neither of them uttered a word as they moved toward the road. When it was time to part, they hugged again. It was she who spoke first. Looking into his eyes, she said:

“Do come to the reception. I don’t have a photo in which we stand together, you by my side”

He said, with a genuine smile on his face with a pair of eyes that expressed pain.

“Sure, I will”