Paper boat

It was unusually cold that morning. Ocean breeze sent chills all over my body as I dawdled along the coast of Chennai, India. The climate was so pleasant that I decided to skip work and go to beach. I came across a small creek with many fishing boats. I sat on a rock observing the fishermen preparing to set sail. The women were performing rituals with aarty for their husbands and sons safe return. The children, oblivious of the dangers the men ventured played in the sand. I removed my shoes and placed my feet on the sand. I pressed my toes deep into the sand and it felt wonderful. I was gazing at the horizon pondering when someone talked to me from behind. I looked behind startled and saw a middle aged man standing behind me. I may not have noticed him approach me as I was lost in my imagination. He was a little shorter than me and had an oval shaped face with long chin. He had grey hair and a dark, wrinkly skin. He was wearing a white vest and wrapped a cloth around his loins. He asked me to write something for him, a letter for his wife. I wanted to escape from this situation but my curiosity made me oblige his request. We sat down on a stone and he started narrating what he wanted me to write.
Dear Amaidhini,
Yesterday I did a lot of work and came home tired. All my pain would have vanished if I had seen your lovely face. Our home feels so empty and grim without you. Surely you were the light of my life. But I always gave you pain and I am sorry about that. Why does my love for you becomes stronger in your absence? I have stopped drinking and will never bet again in my life. Please stop being angry on me. I want to meet you as soon as possible. I long to touch you and feel my fingers run through your hair, for you are my only true love.
Yours,
Yashawardhan.
When we finished, he thanked me and walked away to the ships. I imagined her wife reading the letter and instantly forgiving him and return home. He started pulling a ship towards the water. It was a small fishing boat. He stopped at the end of the beach letting the gentle waves touch his feet. He sat down and folded the letter into a paper boat. When he placed the paper boat on the sand a wave dragged it into the ocean. It cradled up and down in the waves for a while and then drowned in the vast ocean. He got up and pulled the ship into the ocean. I was angry because he wasted a good piece of writing. When he didn’t intend to deliver the letter to his wife than why did he make me write it? I screamed at the top of my breath “hey old geezer, if you don’t give that letter to your wife, how will she ever know what you feel?” He turned back and said in a grave tone” she drowned and died last year”. I stood there in silence. I don’t know if there is any afterlife. I don’t know what I witnessed was true love. But I know that the fisher man was happy. And maybe his wife is reading the letter somewhere and smiling with a huge blush on her face.