The Coconut

It lay between the sea and dry land, as if caught in a dilemma of going ashore (for good) or back to drifting on the currents of the open sea, which ironically, had the coconut drifted on perhaps, a journey more than a thousand miles from its home soil when it was torn apart from its bond to the tree that had been its family.

For a span of time which the coconut may have lost count, it lives on the very will of Allah s.w.t.: fight the frightening tall waves of sea storms, sleep through the dull dead calm of an open sea, grapple against the invasion of microbes and gargantuan sea creatures as they try to penetrate through the husk onto the kernel and inside of it - it survived, enduring the harshest of condition that it was meant to live through.

But now, it seem lost and at wit's end. Caught between the pull of two desires. One, to lay itself on the soft ground of the shore and grow to be tall and proud. Or, to return to the sea that had made it into a small legend. A hardy being. One, that had stood the test of time.

In all probability, it would return to the sea for a short spell while it search for a more conducive place to lay its roots. Literally. As it does, it will tell its future generations of the tales it had been harrowed upon; the memory of how it survived, shall be passed down via the very genes of its offspring - a tough, resilient coconut.

The same, sadly, cannot be said of my PC. Barely.


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