“There are some defeats more triumphant than victories.”

- Michel Eyquem de Montaigned, French philosopher and essayist, in “Of Cannibals,” Chapter XXX

You have struggled for that one thing all through your life; that exalted moment of triumph and rejoice, that construct of ecstasy, that unapproachable slice of conquest and victory… Then, when you have almost reached the end of your journey (and you know that this might be your last chance), victory suddenly comes to you, but goes off in a jiffy, before you can cling to it… Read further if this sounds interesting…

This old fisherman was a respected figure among his peers; more so since he was the oldest of them all. However, people believed him to be too old to fish out in the rough and rambunctious ocean. A fatigued physique composed of perceptible network of veins and bones, a belittled fishing boat, and some mangled fishing equipments were the distinction and definition of his identity. Little did they know that the old man cherished a surreptitious ambition; of catching the biggest fish in the ocean. He wanted to present the envious catch to the small boy whom he had adopted.

And one fine day, the old man actually set out in the ocean, to give his ambition one last try. When in the middle of the ocean, he was cajoled by arduous circumstances; rain, storms, starvation, sleeplessness… When he had lost all hope, he felt a sharp tug on his fishing rod. Then a great thud, there was something that lashed strongly against his fishing boat. What he saw next was unbelievable – he had caught a big fish – the biggest he had ever seen in his whole life!!

The old man would definitely remember his gruesome struggle with his pride catch all through his life. The fishing rod was too wretched to hold on to the huge fish. And the fishing boat was too small to accommodate the fish. He knew he had to sail back to the shore with the fish in the water, tugged to the fishing rod. And so he did. The ocean and its dwellers were not that conciliating, though. He saw a row of sharks approaching; and he became intimidated out of wits – not for his own life, but for the sake of his “catch.” He impelled himself to face the circumstances, and the remaining part of his journey back to the shore was a witness of his struggle to save his catch from the roughshod sharks. It was raining heavily when he reached the shore, but the entire fishing community had come to the shore.

The old man hauled up to show the grooviest and envious catch of his lifetime. What he pulled out made the people on the shore awestruck with astonishment and disbelief. It was a massive skeleton of a huge fish, the biggest skeleton that the people in the fishing community had ever seen!!

Well, this is the masterpiece of Ernest Hemingway, the Nobel Laureate in literature. Something that has gone deep into my nerves and cognition. It gives me the motivation to struggle, and to keep struggling throughout. The old man in this masterpiece – “The Old Man and the Sea” – resembles the common man, who could be anyone like you or me. But his struggle is not common; it reflects the struggle of the mellowest grade, which is difficult for a common man to achieve. It also tells that ambitions (just like dreams!!) are to be conserved and adorned. Who knows they might turn into a reality some day. And if not, some defeats are more triumphant than victories.  

After the burial, he returned to his forlorn flat. The curtains were not drawn closely, and the light from the street lamp had streaked into the living room, so it was not as dark now. Darkness was something he had always eluded, but he switched off the lights while entering the room because he felt the dazzling rays were stinging him. He simply tossed his slippers to one side of the room and lit a cigarette. Then he dropped on the sofa like a lifeless lump of flesh. He was aware that the ashtray was not in the vicinity, but did not care to look for it, as he always did. The room was reeking with cigarette smoke, but it was something Raiyyan had always liked. This time around; it was choking for some bizarre reason, but he would smoke it to the last puff. He would then light another one, and smoke it to its murkiest end; Maryam was visiting her mother and was not there to reprimand him… 

Raiyyan saw the small beetle slowly climbing up the wall. A few frail cracks had developed across the wall, and two cracks met close to the ceiling, forming a vertex. The spider’s web had neatly spread to cover the vertex, and the beetle was crawling towards it. The vertex: it did convey something familiar. Then Raiyyan saw the beetle suddenly trapped in the web. It unnervingly fluttered its wings to free itself, while waiting for the spider to strike it. The fluttering died a slow death as time went by. Was the beetle dead? Or had it lost the strength to struggle? It was alive, alright; one last exasperating flutter and it was free. And the lizard waiting patiently besides the cobweb had a festive luncheon. Raiyyan could not resist standing up to examine the corner where the lizard had gobbled up the beetle. He looked really hard, and realized that the corner on the wall presented an image of numerous cracks intersecting each other to form the vertices. The beetle had struggled to tread beyond the vertices, to be met by its horrendous destiny. He looked at the spider web and saw Naghman smiling through the tenuous and fragile threads of the cobweb.

Naghman’s smile was a solace that instantly mitigated the viciousness of his life. Mothers are like that, aren’t they? But Naghman did not smile often. Raiyyan agonizingly recalled her ingenuous smile when he was cajoling her to sleep after her last prayers. He would live the rest of his life reminiscing that smile. She did not say anything, just looked at him and smiled. She wanted to speak, to tell Raiyyan how much she loved him. She wanted to talk to him about life; HIS life. She wanted to remind him that he take care of his health; control his temper and quit smoking. She wanted to compliment him for the way he had attended her when she needed him most; and honor him for being a virtuous son. She wanted to admonish him for squabbling with Maryam every now and then. And she wanted to accentuate that he offer Namaaz regularly. But she did not speak. She held back her speech because it would have given way to the atrocious pain of death that she was trying to endure. Raiyyan should never know of her pain; so she died with that ingenuous smile on her face.