The Pebble on the Shore

The pebble on the shore stares at the dying waves all day. It simply cannot look away from the beauty of the gigantic water-fold that seems capable of swaying away all that has ever existed. But as it approaches nearer, the wave gives up on its fierce energy and rather gently kisses the shore while dancing to the sound of the wind.

The pebble dreams of touching the wave someday. For once at least. And to live complacently for the rest of its life.

As soon as the deceptive light of the day starts to fade away and the pebble can no longer see the waves almost embracing its existence, it begins wondering what would it feel like to float weightlessly in that deep, dark, mysterious, intimidating yet alluring ocean. With fascination, doubt also makes its way through.

“Will the wave be able to bear my weight? — the heaviness of time that has elapsed over my existence.”
“Or would it let me down?”
“What if it never accepts my hardcore manifestation and lets me sink to the bottom of the ocean?” But then it has seen stones at the bottom too.
“Seabed too is a place and one hits the bottom only after experiencing the pilgrimage through water,” the pebble argues with itself.
“Is it worth giving a try then?”

There are days when the currents are high. The gigantic wave rises with the power to crush the entire shore and take away all that remains as hostages. On days like these, the pebble can see the possibility of its life-long dream coming true. The pebble seems only inches away from letting go of its insignificant self and becoming a part of a greater being. But with each minute rise in the wave and its probability to touch the pebble, it senses a part of its heart secretly praying for the wave’s demise. In those infinitesimal moments when the wave seems to be touching the sky, the whole idea of becoming one with the ocean appears as a foreign delusion – something that has just popped up in its head out of nowhere.