By Meghna Anand,
Alone. People seem to enjoy personifying the ocean and at first, so did I, but one thing you learn when on an “unaccompanied, record-breaking sailing trip for the glory of this great nation” is that while “glory of this great nation” is subjective, “record-breaking” is optimistic at best, and “sailing trip” is blatantly descriptive and inevitable, “unaccompanied” makes the real difference. It is the inescapable and all-consuming. And fantasies about the temperamental blue mass called Ocean cannot, will not, hold up for long before giving way to the realities of science and geography. Alone. I have not made contact with another human being in months. We forget sometimes, that human contact is not simply conveying a message, whatever that message might be, but more importantly, human contact the way that message is passed on. There is a difference between looking up at the same star as someone else three hours after they do, and sitting down with them and explaining to them how that star will save your life someday. In only one of those scenarios can you feel the other person’s gratitude for the aforementioned star. The gentle lull of my thoughts in my body echoes in my ears sometimes as I fall asleep. Alone. I try my best to keep busy. Alone. Could it possibly be any quieter? I enjoyed this back home, but I am not back home. Alone. Close my eyes, count to ten, you’ll see your family in your dreams tonight. Alone. They’ll be fine; I’ll be fine; it will all be fine.
