Ocean

Mariyam liked the ocean. She had liked it as long as she could remember. Though it did disturb her, the fact that almost all children her age were scared of it, she didn't let it bother her for too long. Those children never liked her either so their opinion couldn't have mattered less.

  

  She was five when she first saw the ocean. The sun was setting and the whole ocean had turned amber, the most magnificent sight her little self had ever seen. She could hear the tides vividly and that rather stale,sulphury smell enveloped her while she sat there for an hour waiting for her father. She did not feel alone in its presence nor was she repelled by the vastness of it. Instead she had let out a scream of delight when her little feet first touched the cold water only for her father to grab her and take her back home before she could venture further. 

The ocean was a comforting presence to her and she longed to go back to it yet her father refrained her from doing so. He was as repulsed with the ocean as much as she was in love with it and she could never understand why. 

Three years had gone by and she had read all books on the ocean, she was especially disgusted with ones that tried to portray it as a villain. Ocean was and and will always be to her a comforting presence and nothing could change that.

Three years were more than enough for Mariyam and she had decided to convince her father to take her to the ocean on the occasion of her birthday. She was rather adamant and didn't feel ashamed playing dirty.

"Abba, Can I ask you something for my birthday this year?"

Azmi looked up from his newspaper and saw Mariyam fidgeting infront of him, he had never seen her this nervous. She was rather energetic and clever for kids her age but she never asked for much from him, so he was rather bewildered with the sudden change in her attitude.

"Hm? Tell me what you want Mariyam, you know your Abba can arrange it for you."

"I want to go to the ocean."

Azmi repressed a sigh.

"Ah, Mariyam how many times do I have to tell yo---"

But before he could finish his sentence Mariyam burst out crying. Seeing his absurdly mature daughter crying so loudly completely flustered Azmi.

"Wha---?"

"I can't believe my own Abba is so cruel to me. It wasn't just once but three times in a row that you have refused me, I see all other kids getting whatever they want for their birthday yet my Abba can't even take me to the ocean."

"What are you talking about Mariyam, when have I ever---?"

"I miss Amma, if she was alive none of this would have ever happened."

And then there was dead silennce. Mariyam knew she had said a little too much but she refrained from correcting herself. 

Azmi's only weakness ever in his life had been his wife. When she had died he was devastated. And he knew how big of an impact her death had on their only daughter. Though Mariyam never explicitly said it, he was aware that she had been bullied at school, he once himself had heard a teacher chide her by saying how she was being so 'ill-mannered' because she 'had no one to teach her' at home. He had been beyond furious and had made the authorities suspend the teacher immediately but he knew Mariyam was suffering and he blamed himself for the most part. Mariyam knew this too.

'Haa-but the ocean---'

"Okay, we'll go to the Ocean, Mariyam.We'll go."

He saw her whole face light up and saw a devlish smirk slowly spread on her face. 

'I guess she is becoming more clever by the day'

Azmi chuckled to himself.

Mariyam's birthday soon arrived and Azmi found himself at the Ocean. Once again. 

He saw the little figure trotting up and down the beach, chasing the ebbing waves and dipping her feet in the water. He had never before seen such a bright smile on her face. She glowed like anything and at that instant resembled her mother so much that it scared him. The ocean was never a place of good memories to him. Ocean symolised darkness, misery and loneliness to him while his daughter had completely different adjectives for it.

He sat at the beach and slowly saw the Sun setting. He didn't know when but soon Mariyam had made her way beside him and she sat leaning on his shoulder. He turned to look at her. She had an amber hue to her face and the whole ocean reflected back in her eyes. It was a beautiful sight, he turned and slowly patted her small head with his large rough hands. Azmi instinctively knew. He knew he could never tell his daughter. He could never tell her that the ocean that she so loved and admired was the one that devoured her mother and his beloved wife and the irony of life is, it was only on the day of her death had she found her newfound love for ocean. But he couldn't bring himself to ruin it for his daughter. It wasn't something he was capable of doing.

 He once again turned to look at the glowing face of his daughter and the eyes that were now closed and slowly muttered to himself.

"Maybe some secrets are meant to be kept."