Eye in the Storm

I wouldn't be here if only my parents were slightly richer. I hate this job. Trust me, I really hate it.

I hate the smell of the seawater. It's excessive compounds of salt and ions and minerals in it makes me grow sick just to think about it. I hate it so much until I'm used to it already by now. I hate the nets. It just pokes into my flesh and pains me to the bone. But I'm used to it already.

Why must I, of all people, be the one that's fishing in the sea, alone?

'That's what your dad's been doing all this time son,' then my mother's voice rang in my head.

Shuush..

Don't remind me of my dad. He gave up his job just because he couldn't take the pressure from the government. He was getting a fixed salary, was working in a air-conditioned room until he decided to throw in the towel.

At that time, all that was in my mind was,

'What the heck?'

Who, in the first place, in the right mind, would give up a job with a fixed pay, for a miserable job like being a fisherman?

My mother said it was something to do with the red tape. I knew nuts about the red tape back then, and I blankly replied, "Why not go buy some? Why must it be red? I thought we got some blue ones in the shelf..."

And the predictable and almost expected reply from her, "Wait till you grow older."

And here I was, sitting in my little fishing boat in the middle of the sea, alone, with only the nets and baits for company. I was moaning and groaning. I practiced complaining before the multitude of fishes and marine creatures. I learned the tricks of swearing when the only ear available was the sea gulls' ones. I refined the art of allowing myself to be bitter even when the only thing bitter in that vast sea was myself.

And then came the drizzling rain. Sweat man..

And then the drizzling rain started to swell. Gosh..

And then the rain became heavier and heavier.. and it became a storm.

Now the waves started rolling hard from every direction. Like a poor football caught in a fierce soccer match, me and my little boat were tossed and thrown with the waves. Worse than pounding hammers, every wave that slammed into my boat sent me flying up and crashing down into the boat and into the seawater, had it not been for the rope that I'm desperately clinging on to.

Lightning flashed in the sky. Thunders roared.

The beast of nature was unleashed.

And then, in the midst of this fury, something caught my eyes by chance.

The fishes.

Wait a minute, I thought it was in the net long ago..

So why was it swimming around me now? That's really weird.. and it was firmly caught in the net.

The net was floating above the waves that hit my little boat. Gasping for air and clinging hard to my rope, my eyes were fixed on the net and the fishes. Then I saw how the fishes freed itself.

As the net floated above the waves, the fishes trapped beneath it had enough room and water to start swimming. The fishes, as if as it had an equally sophisticated mind as ours, carefully calculated and waited for the next wave to hit before it started wriggling and swimming into the big sea again.

Then it was free at last. With a majestic maneuver, it spun in mid air and dived gracefully into the sea again, leaving behind nothing more than a small splash around it and a bedazzled joker clinging on to a rope with all his life.

Free.

And that storm taught me the lesson of life. That sometimes, it takes great effort in great trials to break free. More than break free, but to walk out of it a wiser and better man. Stronger in strength, tougher in the mental state, and tougher in the heart.

The fishes in the storm were equivalent to the light in the dark. The freedom it finally achieved when it was entangled in the net is nothing compared to the victory it worked hard to earn for. And it's victory was the sea, its home, its place where it truly belonged to.

That storm taught me that my father's victory was not in the sea, but in the freedom he chose to appreciate. That when the tapes entangle him, he waited patiently for the waves to hit before he swam to safety. It took him 17 years before his opportunity came in the 1997 crisis when the government had to lay off workers. That was his opportunity, and he didn't missed it.

Carefully examined, planned to precision, exercised with caution.

As the storm slowly died, the evening sun bathed me in it's golden and glorious rays. As I basked in it's glory and climbed up my boat to collect the things that were messed up in the storm, all that was left in me was a new determination. After all, God sometimes chooses to use nature to teach us lessons when He can't get through a tough skull. Every storm has a lesson to learn, and I can't wait to face the next one.

Disclaimer: This article was written metaphorically. I'd really appreciate it if you don't ask silly questions like 'Since when did I become a fisherman'.