The Tormented Lover
Alice Peter
Taking slow, unsteady steps, men and women covered in tattered garbs approached my territory. Apart from miniature versions of themselves that followed behind, the nomads had very little to call their own. As I consumed their tears of joy, for having discovered a sanctuary to call their own, I promised myself that our partnership was going to be one that lasts a lifetime.
Never before had my existence experienced the phenomenon of love at first sight. Reflecting feelings of a sinful soul who had been miraculously redeemed, I considered myself eternally indebted to them. Contrary to common social behavior, I did not erupt or vanish away into the sea. Instead I withstood cyclones only to protect, who were growing up to become, my beloved.
The men, with their hand-knitted nets, wandered through my waters in hunt of livelihood while the children clung to their hesitant mothers. As they waited for their fathers to return, they hopped and bubbled over the sight of approaching waves. The condition was simple: their tiny toes had to unite with the expanse of my sea. Dipping their tiny feet into the sand, they tickled me to a point where I had to rid myself of them with raging tides. However, that only seemed to fascinate the angelic monsters and made them chuckle even harder. The sound of their giggles resonated in my alleys, encompassing me with euphoria. It was magical. With days fading into nights and nights into days, I fulfilled my duties as a confidant, a watchdog, a paramour.
Little did I know, what I believed to be requited love was barely a fleeting attraction; I was to them what one would call a first crush, gripping but temporary. Soon the settlers became residents and my value of being their home, mitigated to that of a mere burden. Not only did they demand for more than I could give, but their desires had parameters that neither my land, nor my waters could meet. As a result, they brought in machines to construct and reconstruct as much of me as they could, leaving me looking like nothing of what I used to be.
The city they had once taken refuge in was altered, moulded and adapted to comply with their rising ambitions. The trees I was surrounded with, the lungs to my personage, were uprooted to pave routes that would allow for them to reach out to the world; the world I was unaware of and cared even less for. But which, they claimed, had the satiation for their newfound hunger. I decided I was not going to stand in the way of their happiness and therefore, settled for lesser oxygen. Thinking that it was after all sacrifice that made love stronger, I gave in.
What followed was the erection of tall, glossy structures made of cement that severed parts of me. Despite the provision of unconditional love and irrevocable warmth, those cherished proved disloyal. They found greater solace in the sky as they carried on their quest to reach it and drift further away from me. With that, my view of the sun and the moon was compromised.
They will not stoop any lower, I consoled myself. If not for anything else then for all those sleepless nights, I had spent bleeding and suffering, while they slept in peace. But yet again, I was humiliated at my own naivety. Carpeted with black roads and all else littered with repugnant substances, I was eventually deprived of light. Ruthlessly, they pushed me into perpetual darkness only to later accuse me of being gruesome and despondent. I would have laughed at the irony, if only I had the strength.
Would it not have been better to have never loved at all? Every corner, every beach, every lane reeks of what was once shared but later abandoned. I have been too hurt to forget. Nevertheless, I hold them not to contempt, for they did what they had to do in order to survive. It was I, who was foolish enough to believe love alone would be enough. And so, I forgive them as they continue to destroy; I turn my face to the other side as they contaminate. I continue to yearn for their well being as they deem it imperative to run away from me as fast as they can.
The children keep up the norm of sitting on benches that my sea is now ornate with. Although the bright white lights built around blur my vision, I feel their presence. The sole group that retains some of the admiration, I once showered its predecessors with. Soon they will grow up and forget about me just like their parents did. But for now, I am satisfied as they nervously embrace the sand. And I shoo them away with waves, in memory of what we once had.
Yours truly,
Karachi.
