Sunset on Lake Sal. An hour that unfailingly heralds peace and awe if one may allow oneself the temptation to fantasise that this lake is not shrinking like the country’s other lakes — that its waters are actually as pure as them seem in this fading light. One is on vacation and one may believe. Yes, indeed, the cool sea breeze wistfully whispers peace and the pale golden lotuses spell wonderment as they capture the soothing whispers in their petals, slowly coming together as if in grateful prayer to their Creator before they go underwater for deeper meditation, to open up and rise again in harmony with the rising sun. But morning is still a night away.I look back to see little Cyrus strolling towards his village with his home-made fishing rod tucked securely under his shoulder. Today, I do not wonder if he has caught anything.The boy used to be a constant source of amazement to me in the beginning. While his brothers and sisters splashed about in the water making merry the whole day long, he sat, a pensive little figure, from morning till late in the evening with his makeshift fishing line in the water. I have never seen such patience in one so young before. The rest of his family had become quite friendly with us. He, however, maintained his distance. The monosyllabic answers I had managed to elicit from him made it amply evident that he did not like any intrusion into his private world and he certainly did not welcome any disturbance from ignorant folk who did not know that noise scared the fish away.I remembered the first time I had seen little Cyrus actually catch a fish. It was a small one but a fish it was. I had watched with disbelief as he unhooked the fish and threw it back . I had pondered over the incident for a while and then forgotten it, till I saw him catch another small fish, only to throw it back into the water, and finally arrived at the conclusion that the little one was probably waiting for “the big catch”.The day before had been a revelation for me. On my morning lotus-watch, I detected a tiny fish that had unwittingly jumped on to a lotus leaf, struggling unsuccessfully to get back into the water. A few moments were all that I could take of its agonising convulsions. Tilting the leaf to end the ordeal of the fish and watch it bounce back with relief into the water, a thought struck me and I rushed to Cyrus’s side — just in time to see him haul up a really big catch. I looked at him and saw this time the horror clearly etched on his elfin face as he quickly unhooked the writhing fish and decisively threw it back into the water.The sound of Cyrus’s receding footsteps mingled with the wistful whisper of the wind. All was right with the world at this sunset hour.
