the sea

He started his car and began heading towards the sea. He knew, even as he edged out of the temple’s carpark that he has not quite determined his final destination. All he knew was that he needed to go to the sea. Well, he was torn between practicality and his heart’s desire. He told himself that he would decide once he reaches the nearest beach -Middle Park beach.

Traffic was busier than he had anticipated and by the time he reached Middle Park beach, (even without slowing down), he knew that it wasn’t the ‘right’ place. He continued driving along the beach; southwards, away from the city, and by the time he passed St Kilda beach, he knew where he wanted to go –the place that he should have headed to in the first place; to that strip of land by the sea that had meant so much to him over the past 20 years; the place where he had spent so many evenings sitting by himself, contemplating life.

When he finally got there, he saw that there were a few other cars parked along the road but he saw no one in the dark. He reached over for his bag from the passenger seat, opened the car door slightly to get some light to check the content inside the bag. Getting out into the open, he paused momentarily to adjust to the dark before heading towards the sea. But it requires a little bit more walking. Clutching his bag close to his chest, he ducked under a metal railing, and emerged from the side of some bushes.

As he stood up, he was suddenly taken aback by the familiar open grassy space stretched in front of his gaze. It starts off flat from where he stood and then gently curves and rise into a small hill and beyond that, a gently roll down towards the water. He can’t see the sea yet, only smell it.

He walked stridently up the rise of the hill, towards the direction of the sea and when he finally got to the top, he noticed under the bright full moonlight that the tide was extremely low. He had hoped to sit along the wall where usually the sea would come right up against this breakwater. But tonight the sea was quite a far way out. Yet he was undeterred.

Scanning from this vantage point on top of the hill, he caught sight of a long stretch of large boulders stacked perpendicularly away from the beach; like a ‘finger’ sticking out into the sea. In this low tide, this jetty of boulders reaches far enough to the water.

Stepping gingerly (while clutching tightly to his bag), he carefully negotiated each uneven surface-from one boulder to the next- determined that this will be executed smoothly without any mishaps. When he finally got to end, he carefully crouched down and sat down.

As he sat, he was momentarily taken aback at how close he was to the water. Tilting his head up towards the horizon, he felt the full moon, hanging at about “11 o’clock” from where he sat. It was perfect. He unzipped his bag, reached inside and brought out a plastic bag. Reaching into this plastic bag, he took his first orange. Rolling it in the palm of his right hand, he closed his eyes and imagined a life with a partner; a happier time than he had experienced for a while. He did not try to imagine a face – just a presence.

With a heart bursting with hope and a face wearing a smile, he tossed this orange with all his might out far into the sea. And for good measure, he did the same to the remaining 2 oranges in the plastic bag.

An hour earlier, he had been to the Chinese temple to offer his prayers on this important day. After all many moons ago, he was born exactly on this full moon night, the 15th day of Chinese New Year. That day was the 15th day of the first month of the new Chinese lunar calendar year – ‘Chap Goh Meh’ as the (Straits) Chinese would refer the day to be. Tradition has it that on this fifteenth (and final) day of the Chinese New Year celebration, ‘maidens’ wishing for a good husband would throw oranges into the sea. Although certainly not a ‘maiden’, he, having been single for so long did not really care for this slight technicality. It was his ritual and his hopes. It was his prayer and his wish.