The River’s Embrace
It is a story capturing a boy’s idyllic connection to the river.
The tranquil town of Moratuwa, nestled away from the hustle and bustle of Colombo, unfolded a tale of nostalgia and camaraderie. The river, a silent sentinel, bore witness to the joys of a young boy and his friends.
“Come, let us go for a swim in the river,” Ajit, the weekend housemate and classmate, enticed with a mischievous smile. His invitation was irresistible, drawing the neighbourhood boys to the water’s edge, their laughter harmonising with the rustling leaves.
The riverside, a haven under the shelter of ancient trees, provided comfort. The boys lounged on the grass, the sun casting intricate patterns on their skin, while the sky above unfurled — an infinite canvas of blue.
As the river welcomed its swimmers, the boy felt a pang for those absent, bound by duties and studies. Casting off his clothes, he joined the river’s dance — a symphony of calm waves and warm sunlight.
After swimming, he relaxed on the bank, the sun’s rays infusing warmth into his damp skin. Ajit’s voice echoed, engaging in playful banter with their classmate, Soshimus, another friend who had arrived. Soshimus’s continuous chatter punctuated the air as he rode in on his bicycle, untold stories swirling around him.
The boy’s presence was a beacon surrounded by admiring younger eyes. Ajit’s slender yet attention-commanding frame erupted with laughter, breaking the silence. Ajit and him were great friends who looked out for each other. Yet, the newly arrived Soshimus was the dominating voice in that gathering. His socialist ideas were mumbo-jumbo to the rest of the boys.
“Watch this!” one of the neighbourhood boys shouted fearlessly, diving into the river’s depths. Others followed, some hesitant, some eager. The grass transformed into a spectator’s seat for those relishing the open air.
A skilled diver elicited gasps, his form cutting through the water. A gentle push sent a timid soul into the river’s grasp; his protest drowned in the chorus of splashes.
The riverbank burst with life, the boys’ antics colouring the water with strokes of joy. They played a water ball game, splashing each other and wrestling. But fate took an unexpected turn.
The protagonist, the boy, had recently received a gold ring from his father on his fifteenth birthday. The ring was slightly loose on his thin fingers, but he was eager to wear it, symbolising his transition from boyhood to adolescence. Unfortunately, the water skirmishes didn’t help — the ring slipped off his finger and fell into the river.
The boy was devastated, traumatised by the thought of what he would tell his father. Desperation welled up, and he began to cry. The gold ring held immense sentimental value; his father had only two rings — the one he made when he turned eighteen and his wedding ring. Trusting his eldest son, he had passed down the ring when the boy reached fifteen.
His friends rallied around him, knowing exactly what to do. They formed a circle around where the water skirmishes had taken place. Determined, they dived into the water, scanning the riverbed with their eyes.
But the constantly shifting sand at the bottom of the river played hide-and-seek with the ring. Each dive yielded handfuls of sand, but the ring remained elusive. Their friendship fueled their perseverance — they skipped lunch, ignored hunger, and kept searching.
They widened their search area, diving repeatedly. As day turned to dusk, they reluctantly accepted that the ring was lost — a treasure buried in the river’s sands.
Returning disappointed, the boy sought solace at Ajit’s house. The ring was lost forever.
Yet, back at his home, his father’s silence puzzled him. Did his father notice the missing ring, or did he choose to focus on his eldest son’s well-being? The boy found it challenging to avert his gaze from his left middle finger, which once bore his father’s ring.
Somewhere in a river in Sri Lanka, just south of Colombo, beneath shifting sands, lies a ring from a half-century ago — a silent testament to friendship, trust, a father’s love and and the passage of time.
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