Sing to the Lake

I couldn't understand a word that he spoke. He was here with his friends. We were all together, watching the sky change colors. I sat a feet apart from your friends and listened to you. Between you and me, there was a patch of green grass and the lake met the blue sky at the horizon ahead of us.

The melody that your guitar made suited your voice perfectly. I still couldn't understand a word that escaped your lips but I listened nonetheless. Let alone what you meant to say, I couldn't even see you face. With your back turned to the audience gathered around you, you sang to the lake, without a care in the world.

A kid came rushing to you and asked you for money. "Money?," he asked and lifted up his flimsy sweater, his slightly bloated stomach stuck out. He made rapid circles on his belly and nudged you a little. You stopped singing and tried to concentrate on what the kid was saying. You leaned in a little close, your shoulders shrugged. You said something but the kid answered with a dozen 'No's probably because, like me, he was unfamiliar to your tongue. Then after a moment, his hunger suddenly lost, he gave you a little performance showing off his air guitar skills.

I heard you chuckle, your shoulders dancing slightly. The kid giggled too. And then suddenly he sang "Resham Firiri, Resham Firiri". You listened to him sing. The lyrics was all wrong and jumbled up but you didn't understand what they meant, and you didn't care about that. This was the first time you were hearing the song and you listened, cautiously. Then after sometime, you began strumming your guitar.

For a moment, I was worried that you were going to disregard the kid, his song, his pleads. But you paused after each strum as the kid kept singing. Then you were strumming the chords in a rhythm that wasn't how the song went but matched perfectly with the way the kid was singing it. Both of you didn't even understand each others' languages and yet, the two of you performed with such practiced ease.

After the kid walked away, you decided to take a break and left your guitar right where you were sitting and went to sit with your friends. I spent a few minutes watching a girl with golden hair and moss green eyes. She was constantly fidgeting with her fingers - bringing them close to her lips and then taking them down again. It seemed like she was conflicting with herself with a decision she couldn't take. I watched a couple with silver grey hair - the lady standing on her tiptoes as her arms wrapped over the man's shoulders. His arms held her close for moments too long and I realized I was peeking into a moment that I wasn't a part of. I looked away with a lingering smile as I was reminded of someone else.

I turned to you and asked you if I could play your guitar. "Yes, please!" you replied in a voice just as musical as how it was when you were singing. I sat down with your guitar, hanging my feet over the edge, my shoes kept aside. I took a deep breath or two as looked at the shades of blue ahead of me. The fog at the horizon made it seem like the lake was endless - I had an endless pool of audience in front of me but I couldn't care less. It was a sense of warmth that spread through me as the evening breeze soared through.

It had been a while since I played music, had been a while since I sang out loud. And yet seeing you, a stranger, sing his heart out to the seemingly endless lake, with his back turned to a crowd of people - I felt a courage I couldn't deny. I was in a city miles away from home, I had strangers all around me. Strangers with friends, strangers in love, strangers travelling by themselves, strangers worn out by the summer heat in Pokhara, strangers calmed by the stillness of the lake, strangers with their homes packed in a suitcase or two, strangers with beautiful eyes with even more beautiful stories to tell, strangers who spoke in a tongue I didn't understand, strangers with voices that soared with a hope for tomorrow, strangers who fell a little more in love with themselves as they stood in a shared moment of serenity.

I sang to the lake and thought of the last time I watched my feet as she washed it off of all the memories I wanted to fade away, cleanse all my sins and prayers as I bid her goodbye. I sang to her with a grateful and light heart - I didn't worry about yesterday and I didn't fret over tomorrow.