One Night on the M.V.Harshvardhan

Disclaimer: This post is dedicated to a young girl who sent us a sweet email about the WAH Blog yesterday…

‘There is one knows not what sweet mystery about this sea,whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath.’

- Herman Melville (Moby Dick)

 

“I think I need some alcohol,” Sanju informed in a manner most matter of fact.  It was quintessential Sanjay, to want alcohol in a most matter of fact way, even if we were on a ship.

“You know it is not allowed,” Divya reminded him without sounding like a preacher. And she was right, for the M.V.Harshvardhan, as well as all other passenger ships that ply between the Indian mainland and the Andaman islands prohibit liquor drinking on board.  The six of us ambled the remaining distance to the deck in silence.

The first thing I noticed as we came out were the number of people lined up on the deck, hands on the railings, chatting away in the breeze.  And then the breeze hit me.  Not like the pleasant ones that go gently past you on a cloudy city day; this was a wind that did not care much for manners, blowing strongly and in your face. It whistled like a man on a mission, setting to conquer all. It did not want you to look at it with a smile, it wanted you to gush with awe.

Lastly, I noticed her, smiling at him.

Sanjay saw me and shook his head. He couldn’t complain of my being consistent though. I had been looking at her furtively all along, right from when they had all reached my house in Chennai.  “It isn’t great manners to keep your mouth open while staring, you know,” Aditya helpfully added, to which I closed my mouth with such a clang that all those who stood at the deck railings peered over, concerned if the ship had hit an iceberg or something.

She was pretty. Worse, she was composed, enviably so. A kind of composure that comes from being completely secure about yourself, from being brought up well and by a loving family, from being liked by all. Her gracefulness unsettled me, made me feel like a child in comparison, and I found myself falling deep. Rahul however was doing a better job at the mouth open business, for every time his jaws parted he would say something that, oddly, made her laugh.

So now you have been introduced to the six of us – Sanju, Aditya, Rahul, Divya, Shweta and I. Notice how clever I am to put Shweta and my name together?

We found a small spot vacant on the deck and spread a bed sheet there.  In a move cleverer than the one I last spoke of, Rahul ensured that when we lay, his cunning self would be lying next to her, while I was left rotting in between S and A. “You really had to call Rahul for this trip?” I cursed Sanjay. “I think they are kissing,” was the helpful reply. “There is less space on the sheet, that’s the only reason why she’s letting him lie that close.  But there is no body contact,” I croaked, peering over the bodies. The roar of the waves smothered the giggles of my friends, if not the tremors felt by my heart.

The wind conquered us all, one man one woman at a time, and we slept off, right there on the deck.

I do not know why I woke up when she walked.  If life could be replayed, I would have known that it was Adi placing his thigh on my stomach that had roused me, but since no such replays are permitted, I let myself believe that it was love that was responsible.

She went to the railing and holding on, looked out into the sea, possibly for answers she never had. And then A man who stood a couple of metres from her, sidled up. His face was unshaven and scarred, his hair tousled and uncombed. The wind pushed his mop back in a way that he might appear as if his hairline was receding.  Concerned, I shot up and seeing me, she beckoned me over with a smile. When I reached her, the man grinned at us, and retraced his steps. He looked quite harmless.

“How well can you swim?” she asked me, looking into the black waters below. “Like a fish, in my tub back home. Err but put me in any water that rises above my eyebrows and all you have is an expert drowner. And you? ”

“Oh I have always been a water baby. My father used to take us all to the club pool every day. Despite his weight, he was the best, cutting through the water like an athlete”. The pride in her voice was too glaring to miss. Years of courting have taught me that it’s always better to tease, than to admire. But at the moment, she had too much power over me, and despite myself, I found myself complimenting her father - her man.

“Have you heard of the Moken?” she asked me, looking at my eyes for a moment.  When I shook my head, she pointed to her left, out a long way into the sea.

“The Moken are the people of the sea,” she said and the waves swirled, as if it was theirs, and not her, secret she was revealing.  I touched her forehead and she smiled a bit, at my mock behaviour of checking her temperature.

“Deep in the Andaman Sea, somewhere between Burma and Thailand, live the Moken people, or the sea gypsies .  They travel the seas in the boats that they live in, eat from the sea, only return to land during the monsoons.”  Adi had now stirred and was telling Sanjay about us standing alone. My friends, I realized, don’t let up ever, not starry nights like that night, nor monsoons.

“The Moken,” my story teller continued, “are expert divers, and having lived in the sea all their lives can see better and stay underwater for longer durations than other humans. So quick are they that they can catch fish and sea cucumbers with their bare hands. You know Neeraj, Moken babies can swim even before they learn to walk.” I liked how she took my name. The boat was leaving a beautiful wake behind, and it shone silver in the moonlight.  “Maybe we shall spot them tomorrow during the day,” I said, envisioning several dark semi naked people, staring back at us as curiously, from their handmade boats.

That night, we spoke of other things too; of the constellations in the sky, the books we liked, and why Adi looked so ungainly while lying down. When we returned , I looked at my friends, expecting they would  ask me all. “I need some alcohol,” Sanju informed in a manner most matter of fact. Quintessentially him.

—-

P.S. Later in that trip, we saw flying fish, and dolphins that raced with the ship for dolphins will always be show ponies first and cautious later. But we never saw the Moken, for they who have been living in the sea for centuries know how to hide themselves if they want to. 

I wasn’t to know until many years later that when the tsunami struck the coasts of the South Asian countries that 2005 December, and caused such widespread death and destruction, the Moken were left untouched. Having lived so close to the waters, they knew its every mood and whim, and had retreated to high ground a day before the tsunami eventually struck.  What we and all our modern technology could not foresee, these people had just by being close to, and respecting the sea.  That day, however the sea stayed quiet, taking care of all those who rode it.