It's a fishing village, and you can see bamboo huts among the palm and coconut trees close to the sea living here, singing their songs. Yes, there are times when they mourn the deaths of fishermen lost in the sea, but the life goes on.
You know, I've never actually really believed that death is inevitable. I just think it's a rumor - David Carradine
Every day they sail their boats into the sea, while the sun paints the morning sky, and sail until the sea turns from purple to red and then to black. They then gather their nets and return to their boats. They sing the songs they have heard from their forefathers. And then wait again for the next morning. Then they take their net and oar back to the ocean.
Sometimes they go far out to sea in search of new fishing areas. If they get hit by a storm on the high seas, they die. They feel sad for some time, mourn for a while, sitting in their homes with sadness-filled hearts, but not for long. Life always return to normal. The vastness of the sea stirs their souls and keeps calling them again and again. The call of the sea is just irristable so they forgot all about death and move on.
Sumba lost his father one day. He was a fisherman a friend of his father, came to his house and told him that his father's boat had sunk in the sea, he managed to reach shore with his father's boat.
Sumba and his mother mourned him for a long time. Now Sumba was the owner of the boat and bread earner. He was ready to sail and catch fish. In the evening, when Sumba was in the market to sell his fish, he met Mumba, the son of the rich landlord.
Mumba, "Are you buying a new net?"
"No, I went to sea today and caught some fish."
"What, in the Ocean? He smiled coyly and said, "I'm scared to go into the sea. I am sorry your father died last week by drowning in the sea. "
"Yes, he died. Probably that was God's will"
"But I see you are not afraid of the sea."
Why should I be afraid? I am the son of a fisherman. Fishermen are not afraid of the sea. My grandfather also died in the sea" Sumba added. Most men in our family died in the sea. "
Mumba, the rich man's son, said, "What kind of people are you?" You all always perish in the ocean, and yet you go there again and again!
Sumba smiled again, "Some of our forefathers died trying to find pearls in the ocean. How about your great grandfather? Is he still alive?"
Mumba replied, "He died at home, in his sleep. He was old. Our servant found him dead in his room."
"What about your grandfather?"
"He died of a heart attack last year in the courtyard."
"And his father?"
Mumba, "I was told that he had been ill for a long time and died here in this very home."
"God! They all died inside your house. Are you still living in this house? And you're not afraid? "
He turned, sold his fish, and left for his home.
Note- Don't you think you have heard similar stories from your parents or grandparents? I have heard it!
Love the object lesson here! Can't say I've heard a story quite like it from anyone in my family, but it touches on the unique differences in worldview from multicultural, multisocioeconomical, or even just interpersonal perspectives. What seems commonplace to us might seem terrifying to the next person, and what is commonplace to them - terrifying to us. Better to seek and understanding of where one comes from rather than judge it as "dangerous or foolish". Because, in the end, death doesn't discriminate between sinner and saint, rich and poor, "safe" or "dangerous"... it always takes what it is due.
Thank you for sharing the story! !PIZZA
Thank you @thinkrdotexe, this world is full of people who speak without thinking or minding about others' feelings. I am posting regularly in this community hoping to get "Membership" of this community. Thank you once again!
absolutely! Scholar and Scribe is a GREAT community to be part of! keep up the good work and regular posting!
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Thanks for the pizza, please.