Whispers of Golden Hours by Lamiya Siraj

In the faraway land, there was a wanderer. He was roaming around on a deserted island. He strolled along the beach, the cool sand massaging his feet. Seagulls soared overhead, their cries echoing across the blue sky. It was the golden hour of the day. The sun was about to bid goodbye to the moon, shining in the sky. Hurriedly running towards his beloved to shine bright on her and adore her to the fullest after twelve long hours. These twelve hours of darkness were like ages for the sun, wanting to drag it away and meet his beloved for never leaving her and so…

Just then, the wanderer saw a boat, a dinghy far away in the clear blue sea, playing with the rhythms of the waves and showing its dancing moves to impress the sea. The dinghy was complementing the sun on meeting him with her beloved after so many hours. As the dinghy started sailing towards the shore, the wanderer could see it was a small but enchanting boat in the light and dark shades of brown. The boat’s wood was proudly showing off its strongness in the magnificent currents of the waves. As it came nearer and nearer, its colour was visible and more vibrant, at places showing charcoal black colour.

The wanderer gave it a closer look and felt it was burnt to save it from the seaweed, giving it life for more years and making it gleam clearer for each new journey in the sea. But wandering for quite some time on the island, he was aware that the traditional wooden boats often appear burnt at the base due to the boat-building process. Local craftsmen use fire to bend and shape the wood, which helps create the curved structures needed for the hulls of the boats. This technique, known as “fire bending,” involves heating the wood to make it more pliable. It’s a fascinating blend of traditional craftsmanship and practical engineering. Still, he wanted to stick with the idea that it’s burnt to save it from the seaweed in the deep sea.

The way the boat sailed, dancing and enjoying itself in the sea, based on the rhythm of the waves, the wanderer felt the urge to sit in it and sail away to no man’s land.
As it came nearer and nearer, he could see the boat was filled up with something soft and creamy in colour. He could start smelling a mixture of coconut and vanilla and suddenly felt like eating a pudding made from fresh coconut cream and essence of vanilla with an instant brew coffee.
As it came near, he could see a small pole that was somewhat off-white with a flag symbol of a coconut tree on it. The sun shone brightly as the waves lapped gently against the shore.

The sound of waves coming and crushing near his feet, touching him, and the water flowing back into the ocean felt like waves talking to him, taking him into a trance. The weather was pleasant, with the cold wind blowing and little scattered clouds visible in the sky.

As the boat drifted closer to the shore, he reached out, ready to hop on. Just then, a sudden thud startled him and made him turn around. Back in his room, the candle his girlfriend had gifted him – a half-oval coconut shell filled with the soothing scent of coconut and vanilla – had fallen from the study table and shattered on the floor. He stared at the broken pieces, the fragrant memory of her gift filling the air as the moment with the boat slipped away.
Lamiya Siraj