4
The man pushed the boat to put it up. He tried to push the boat as easily as always, but he had forgotten his injured hands. He cried in pain.
Then again, he pushed the boat employing his arms and shoulder. He did it.
The boat is now ready with the gear for fishing. Before is the swelling sea with numberless silvery fishes hidden deep in the waves.
‘Catch if you can’, the sea talked enticing.
The man, looking at the roaring sea, couldn’t help going. His hands were shaky, unable to grab the fishing net and throw it in the sea. But he was unstoppable, hell bent on snatching away the alluring silvery stuff from the breast of the sea. He went pushing and pushing, pushing hard all through the sand. He was able then.
He cast the fishing boat out into the open sea to prove himself once again. To prove that great fishermen never die.
Fisherman of his kind, he had driven to the shore and the heaviest cans of fishes had been unloaded. People looked aghast at him, he being the proudest of all. Every fish market used to be his. Every usurer used to bet on him. His family was the happiest one. The mother of his daughter used to be so proud of him. Her husband is the only one who can tame the unruly fury of the sea.
When he walked through the markets, the fishmongers would throng around him to strike a bargain for the heaps of glistening fishes.
Raking through the sand he ran with his fishing boat. It did not take long to place his boat over the sea. He jumped in.
As he pulled the string to start the engine, a cloud of thick smoke emerged to vanish in the air. The whirring sound of the motor gave the fisherman his much needed enthusiasm to fight again.
***
