BEACH IN MY MIND

My room is now becoming totally uninhabitable due to the creeping heat that has invaded this equatorial part of the world. Even my old reliable electric fan seemed to have surrendered the fight. It has been helplessly egging me to turn the budget-draining aircon on, a request I regularly deny lest I bury myself neck-deep into bills.

Now, with the onslaught of summer, I’m beginning to develop a deep longing for the beach. It is the type of craving that triggers a rush of memories of childhood thrills – the simple yet lasting joys of being raised in an island.

Eat your hearts out city kids, but this I got to tell: when we were of school age, going to the beach was all but routine. It was part of our growing up, an ingredient of the daily grind.

I recall, our weekends were never complete without a trip to the beach. If city kids look forward to weekends for shopping, movies and other indoor activities, we look forward to these days for wild abandon - shooting waves, racing through the currents, riding motorboat floaters or simply basking in the sun riding inflated car tires (interiors) until one’s skin cracks from the blistering heat.

The beach then was an extension of school. Early Saturday and Sunday morning, the seashore is already filled with classmates, friends and childhood idols. To miss the fun would be mortal sin. Think of joining the line for the Monday morning flag ceremony and you knew nothing about what happened in the beach. You will be a virtual outcast. A life in kiddie hell!

Would you believe that as elementary pupils, our idea of play involved organizing our own picnics? Yes, no adults! We’d usually scrimp on our daily “baon” in order to buy beach food (normally pancit with hebi plus what whatever else we could sneak out of our cupboards). Nothing much, but that’s enough to cause incomparable bliss. Finding happiness was easy, then.

For as in all other retellings of things sweet and wonderful, the good times inevitably end.

When we were lured by the Big City for our studies, the view of the beach has become a rarity, as we’d see it only during summer break. And as the years passed, to our dismay, the gatherings we used to enjoy have all disappeared. The grounds we used to adore are now deserted. What happened to the kids who loved playing with the waves, I‘d wonder. Where are the young lovers who patiently build sand castles? Alas, modernity has savaged the simple joys. Kids have found happiness with gadgets, cable TV and other costly and less strenuous fun. Happiness now has a higher tag price. Communing with nature has become the exception rather than the rule.

I guess I succumbed to the same pressure as I too have fallen for urban fun. But as the soul gets weary, I know where to go.

Whenever I go home, I make sure that I take a plunge into the blue waters of the Pacific sea that kiss our island. It’s my simple homage to Mother Nature for giving me a wonderful childhood.

But I now prefer going to the beach late afternoon. There, I simply laze on the shore and listen intently to the sound of the pebbles swaying to the rhythm of the waves. That melody of nature provides a background to the skies slowly turning black, while the kingfishers and seagulls scramble towards their homes.

And as the sun finds its resting place, I too would find that familiar joy that only nature and the simple life could bring. Sans the hustle and bustle of the city, the beach indeed is one great sanctuary, the womb that brings me respite from the wear and tear of the years passed.

I dearly miss it.