When upon life’s billows

Fiction

99, 100, 101… Joseph Thomas continued to count. He was sitting on the beach looking at the ocean that stretched endlessly in front of him. Since he had nothing particular to do, he started counting the waves to pass the time. Then it became tedious. Just like life, he thought. The waves came on and on, ad infinitum, ad nauseam, without any sense of purpose, without any goal. His life was like that too, he thought.

His childhood was spent in school trying in vain to outdo Anita of the next flat. Anita always stood first in the class in every subject. Joseph Thomas would come nowhere near her. And his mother would invariably blame him for that. ‘Look at Anita, you dunce. Can’t you do better than a girl for once at least and do us proud?’ Mother wanted to boast in her social circles about her son just as Anita’s mother did. Since Joseph Thomas couldn’t ever come anywhere near Anita’s genius, mother chose to boast about her husband. ‘He loves me like crazy,’ she said to her friends. ‘When I am alone in the kitchen, he comes from behind and hugs me tenderly and plants a kiss on my cheek.’ It was all sheer lie. The truth was father and mother fought like cats and dogs most of the time. Hearing them shout at each other like hell’s furies, Joseph Thomas often wondered how they ever managed to get four children.

College wasn’t any better than school. Another set of countless waves that came and went in vain. He achieved nothing remarkable. Sat down listening to boring lectures, understood a bit here and there, managed to graduate with a third division, and got a teaching job in a private school since he couldn’t afford to pay the huge donations demanded by the government-aided schools run by the Church. For a change, he tried to win over the love of a girl named Amrita. She was a reserved creature who did not ever throw as much as a glance at boys. And not particularly good-looking either. Joseph Thomas thought she was just the right girl for her. He would be able to manage her. She was not bossy like his mother. In fact, she was just everything what his mother was not. So one day he went ahead and told her that she was the most charming girl of the class. ‘You mean to say I’m just a lousy bitch, you asshole?’ She said that with such unimaginable vehemence that Joseph Thomas did not ever dare to look at her anymore. The little romance that budded in his ever-shrinking heart died on the spot. What baffled him for many days was how Amrita had managed to read his mind so accurately.

When college was over, he had no idea what to do in life. But life is just like the ocean. The waves come and go without any purpose. Joseph Thomas followed the example of the most mediocre of his classmates and joined the B.Ed. course. And then he became a teacher in a CBSE school where he taught for all of 36 years until his retirement a couple of years ago. Somewhere on the way he got married too just like the others. His mother discovered Sara for him. Joseph Thomas and Sara begot two children too. They brought them up dutifully by giving them food, shelter and education as well as the morals of Sunday catechism. Finally they, the boy and the girl too, migrated to Canada where the boy married a Punjabi Sikh girl (thank God it was a girl at least) who eventually left him saying ‘I have to return to my roots, you know.’ She then married a Punjabi Sikh divorcee and discovered her roots. The girl is yet to make a choice. She has tasted all nationalities from Japan to Africa and is still as restless as the ocean. Life is a kind of oceanic hunger.

The waves came and went. Joseph Thomas had ceased counting long ago. The waves of his own life had taken the place of the waves of the ocean.

The western horizon was turning pink. The sun would set soon. And it will rise again tomorrow. Just like the waves, the sun too sets and rises on and on without any purpose.

The mobile phone beeped. Some message. Joseph Thomas took out the phone from his pocket mechanically and looked at the message. It was from the EPFO asking him to submit his Jeevan Praman to prove to the government that he was still alive if he had to continue getting his princely pension of Rs 1812 per month. Biometrics will prove to the government that he is “alive”. Thank God governments can’t think. Otherwise it would be wondering why Joseph Thomas continues to be alive.

When upon life’s billows you are tempest-tossed… Joseph Thomas suddenly and without any reason recalled that hymn which he used to sing in the church as a boy. Count your blessings one by one… Joseph Thomas looked at the darkening waves. My blessings, he said with a wry smile.