Every saturday afternoon, be it rain or shine, we would assemble at the East Coast Sea Sports Centre for the weekly surfing session.
It's a weekly pilgrimage to freedom. A beach start would launch me into the blue waters, and if the wind's right, I'd be skirting across the water at desirable speeds... towards the horizon. It's an exhilarating sense of unrestrained power; the sail and board is at my mercy, and a twitch of the boom will let the sail catch wind, and zoom I go, to "infinity and beyond"!!! Undeniably it is the solitary freedom that makes it so very special. This is one of those rare moments where I am all alone to myself. In the daily humdrum hustle and bustle of our rat race island, this respite is always welcome.
Windsurfing is not an easy sport to pick up, and that is also the reason why it remains an engaging sport for me and my kakis. In this fifty two week I’ve seen novices and apparent neophytes who were eager to raise the sail, only to fall again and yet again. To balance is an art by itself. One has to factor in the different influencing conditions, from the constantly changing winds to the relentless currents. A wrong move can see some sinking slowly into the ocean, while others who are unable to control the sudden gusts will be flung over the sail. Yet while others fade away after lesson one, some just keep coming back. It’s the persistence at the difficult sport, with the right pals that makes the blunders a lot more bearable, and every achievement becomes something to boast about.
And when the wind dies down, when the adrenaline stops flowing, I'd just drift with the current, towards somewhere but nowhere.
Kinda reminds me of the first poem I wrote:
Drifting in the boundless sea
that reflected the twinkling stars above.
Drifting, we shared our experiences
and talked about things like love.
Drifting, we reminisced about our past
and all the little other things.
Drifting, we gazed at the Orion
and wondered what the future brings.
Drifting, drifting, we drift away
from the conventions that tie us down
from the restrictions that make us frown.
Like dreams, we drift.
Drifting, we sail home....
In this self-imposed solitude of freedom, there still exists the desire for that special someone, that special somebody to quell the lonely heart. And the need to share, to share that particular joy or anger and sadness or.
And with the company,
We all sail home.