The Rightly Guided

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning and the sun has begun to rise gently over the dreamy sea that softly douses the beach. It’s only quarter to eight but families from neighboring resorts have already started to settle down. Some of them grab an early breakfast with coconut water in one hand and a plate of fried prawn sandwiches in another. Some children can be seen applying sun block and rushing into the lapping mouth of the shores as quickly as they can, while others are too busy giggling and receiving praises for their sand castle creations by all the witnesses. In the distance, fathers are seen swimming with their young children, whereas mothers are too busy cleaning the beady, wet sand off their babies’ legs.

In a far corner, lay an unnoticed man, seated on the outskirts of the beach. Rasheed, at just 24, looked too old for his age, and yet not very wise at all. Left home at the age of 15 due to an unbearable restraint against his father’s violence, each day he and his mother were unable to provide him with enough money for alcohol. He believed this was better in comparison to the time he did consume it, for then he would beat them for their arguments on refusal to spend all of their money. Although he had become very used to this routine, it didn’t make this situation any less painful for him, neither physically nor mentally. The day he decided to run away, was when his father happily consumed two large bottles of alcohol with Rasheed crying of stomach pain due to starvation right in front of him, and his mother’s staunch refusal to utter a single word in protest. Thus, reaching a point of saturation, he decided to leave around midnight.

Today, almost nine years later, with no luck and still no decent job to earn any money, with his submission to the fate of begging, he wore ragged clothes and roamed barefoot and bruised, faint with hunger and wretched with pain. From the condition that he placed himself in, it looked like he may have been sitting there for a couple of days, but no one bothered to offer him any aid or even few kind eyes of sympathy. Although he didn’t need any, for in his mind he was already filled with self pity. And why wouldn’t he be? He had every possible reason to be.

Before he could get up and start asking around for pennies or something to eat, a group of young boys gathered across the beach and started playing football. They propelled the ball forcibly with their foot and kicked it across the boundaries to other members of the team. The whole beach was now filled with a great deal of excitement. Among all the hustle and bustle, the only wave of direction where Rasheed had his eyes set upon were at the feet of the boys. He looked at their expensive pairs of shoes, all of different kinds- some of rubber outsole, while others of leather design.

Looking back at his own feet, his eyes gleamed with an incurable sadness. Barefoot, they were bruised from the effects of walking for long distances and injured from the broken stones on the roadsides. He wanted to break free from his chains of poverty, and craved for the comfort of shoes that the players wore. He wanted to feel, just for once at least, the warmth of a firm, soft material covering his feet, like a protective shield. But he knew he would never be able to afford them. It would be a miracle if he’d make even one day without hunger and starvation, let alone the pleasure of owning a pair of footwear.

However, before he could return back to his state of gloomy solitude, he caught an image of a young woman on the side of the sea shores. She sat on a wheelchair with an unfortunate disability. Beside her were two little girls, whom he presumed to be his daughters. They were happily playing in the open waters and enjoying themselves fully. From afar, the woman was caught staring at the beautiful sky above that was only beginning to grow more beautiful with each passing minute. It appeared as if the sun’s rays were creating more color in the sky like a painter with an empty canvas.  Anyone could see the ecstatic glow on her face. One of the girls then playfully, submerged her hands into the water and splashed it on her mother, which only made her laugh more ceaselessly. Thus, without even having her feet on the ground and feeling the cold waves, she was able to attain a state of absolute zeal. She had indeed attained happiness, not because she had everything she needed; but because she had made the best of everything that she already had in the moment.

Thus, in a matter of few seconds, the young man learnt his lesson. He got up and made his way towards the sea. He let the charming waves crash his legs and allowed them to get wet as much as possible. For the first time in his life, he felt blessed. He was grateful to own a pair of legs which were still, by the grace of god, able and sound enough to look for more jobs. He promised to do the same as long as he lived without giving up. He knelt down and splashed a few drops of water on his face and with palms up, looked up at the sky, and said, “Aeyy Maula! Mai Tera Shukar Guzaar”. It was in that brief moment when he promised to now live life, less from habit and more from an intention to become a better person and do everything in his power to make his life better.