Marigold

Now, it so happened that the shore seemed near enough for a safe refuge and the men onboard 🚢 couldn’t stop talking about the ephemeral land sightings.

The sickness of the sea and the creepy nature of the previous night’s anxious misery, was keeping these sailors seriously attuned towards their journey.

To that, they seemed astutely aligned.

As time passed their weary hearts got tied up to the ship in a fiendish comradery. It felt like life and death were playing hide and seek at the sea. They were beginning to worry about the unsettling gloom lingering over the deep darkness of the night. Their whereabouts were banked somewhere in deep oceanic unknowns, some of it ,perhaps, unseen ,and some of it, quietly hidden in the midst of unaccountable in between.

Heartbeat to heartbeat, they were managing the hum drums at the sea; readily flowing into it’s rhythmic cadence of crests and the troughs; probably proving themselves as sailing masters ever since. Marching and progressing so , they tightly felt the course of the devilish turnings which waved over their spirits in a warlike reefing. More than ever mesmerized by this, they were tumbling, falling and leaping through such staggering reality.

Kept on so and in between those realms of tumultuous workings, the seamen couldn’t help but notice the strangeness of their immediate surroundings.

Nature with it’s presence was covering itself in partial visibility and everything was breaking into a jumble of precious nothings, rising up steadily into eerie feelings.

It was terrible !

At that point, nothing was easily comprehensible. Perhaps, the veil of mysterious wilderness was launching itself out in a ferocious monstrosity. ‘Twas something in the lines of a haunted history laid over in dissolute victories and flourishing miseries.

One by one, the journeymen were getting awakened to the strange callings that were emerging through the deep recesses of the seas.

Each one was crashing under his own hauls of hardships; falling on feet and baulking up to the sorts of a dead end scene. And in all this,knowing not what might show up in such scene. But having striven so far, they weren’t ready to give up on their struggle of conquering distant lands. However, in catching life through such wanderings they oftentimes wondered —

“Was it something awaiting to prey upon them with no mercies tugged under it’s wings ?! “

So as it seemed as each sailor fell under such grinding gleans.

Many mighty maneuvers were required of them in the name of readjustments from within. Each time they succeeded in conquering a few racks in the ruins, another ones w’d drop forth as a very good suffering,as if, presenting a criteria for their essence of being. Such was the fleet of daunting forces which drew servility nearer to those hirelings.

The troubled waters were ,indeed, bad and challenging. And somewhere along the way of this sea faring, the ship was getting wrecked. The blowing storm, with a will in it’s own flings, was riding roughshod to claim its own sovereignty supreme. Enough damage could be seen from the bearings it had taken in its strange wanderings. The ship was somehow sustaining the trip despite the dark holdings of the weather it had already taken in.

Rushing through such commotion was this hull of the ship that kept rolling through and through,one wave after another. Down those deep set waters, there was a set expectancy in the minds of the seamen which seemed like anticipating the final destination to appear by itself quite suddenly. They wished to see the land much as a lucky star ⭐️ shooting up in the wildest dreams. But unfortunately, those hopes held by the sojourners kept drifting into a mirage of fantasy. As reels within reels, evermore expanding to the edge of the earth, their final halt seemed : yet so near and yet so far in schemes.

For months, the men were enslaving over the prospect of finding some new land with it’s hidden treasures. To that, often, they scrambled over pitch darknesses , enduring pain, so that they could bring to the world the fruits of their labored findings. In effect, with a lantern in hand,they kept on moving forward; further and farther, in search of distant glories.

Also, aloft there , in such vagaries, some mystical-magical creatures were seemingly pulling them towards some intense other world destiny.

Through the seven seas and the four long years of such mysteries, many shipmen were seeing their world lost in deceitful ecstasies ; irritatingly, scrambling through them in unending imaginings.

And, untimely as it all stood there, borne over their heads, was this bloodthirsty mutiny; looking out of waters and giving ‘em no option other than, drowning themselves under —“ sic transit gloria mundi,”as in it’s utmost scaled emergency. I suppose,those steerers were spur crashing into new beginnings. Where would they sweep on and what would their future bring. Of that nothing could be possibly said nor seen.

And so they moved on ! Wearing the breeches , the situation was demanding them to go beyond doubtful preemptors in their discoveries. In such ways , they were following along steadily and leaping ahead of those outgrown territories.

Thusly, these herding men stirred by their primary impulses moved on ;thronged to their ship in eager expectation. Now and then, the ship’s galloping gallantry was blown by the treacherous currents and tides flung over it, quite unexpectedly.

At times, queer sorts of noises, rose up in air, as the gurgles of water ,abruptly , turned eerie in violent uprisings . As it was, it all turned into a rough calling. As devil in thunderstorms a groaning noise churned out of the surfaces and rapidly sought it’s dwelling over the ship’s deck . Nothing in that scene could be exciting, or so it may have been , in the silence of the night..

That was year of 1495 and the explorers were on this longest voyage, about which they had long imagined . To them, the hidden treasures of the distant lands was alluring enough to cast them away on these adventures. So they sailed away , much to the glory of what awaited them . The ship in which they were traveling 🛳 was called Emeralda ; marking the emblematic pride of it’s country of origin.

In those days the Portuguese /Spaniards spearheaded such expeditions in search of discovering trade routes to Asia and other unknown lands.

Therein calling all together, the captain 👨‍✈️ of the ship lit up a smoke and paced up and down the deck, every now and then, to give his fellow seamen , a cheerful nod. From time to time, he feelingly indicated that the shore was near. Thrills and cries of excitement sprung up in air as though all the shore was near. Pulled in the long stretch was this ship heartily wading through waters and waiting to be anchored in. Then, through the fading spaces of dark a seagull screeched and a specter appeared in the mist. With more reason to believe the morbidity of the hour sank in further and all the allegorical figures moved against the wind. Extending through the reaches of the soul , the shipmen wondered whether the land was near. But from that point onwards, they steered the ship as errand boys of heaven, exasperatingly directing themselves into yonder rulings of passion. A globe of light stretched out from nowhere. Certainly , that wasn’t the lighthouse because such a thing didn’t exist in those days. The shipmen had overlooked their sleeplessness and that’s how deliriousness was catching them from within. The endless sea travel was making them believe that shores and shimmers were bearing them out to the unforeseen. Their hopes were seemingly warding off blows of darkness and they were witnessing some ominous guiding light steering them in the unseen.

Their appearances had turned savage —much like rodents trapped and rampaging around in frantic frenzy. They were hungry for food .Topping all their miseries was this hot and cold weather restlessly casting them as pirates in imagery. But then, after few hours , through the emerging clouds of the early dawn, these invading colonists saw a village rising amidst the neighborhood hills . Rising up the hill was this broken path lined up with huge tropical trees, forming canopies in the distant forestry. Down below, slipping before the hillsides , there were various paths leading up to the base. Many white cottages and green fields lay alongside the beach. Perhaps for centuries huge banyan trees had taken hold and covered up the weaker species . Puzzlingly, unlike anything else, everything looked strangely mesmerizing. That was the typical characteristic of the place brought to life. From that time onwards , a feverish excitement spread all over the ship. From afar, the seamen could notice signs of flora and fauna , revealing itself more fully in reasonable clarity.

Some flower seeds were seen to be sprouting from the bushes. Amidst them were these majestic orange flowers spreading in grand solemnity over those bespeaking gardens of peaceful dignity.

Umpteen shoots of wild flora lay all around in bountiful expanse. The entire shoreline, however, at that point , seemed somewhere lost in the dimness of the horizon.

As it happened next: the seamen got off the ship ,one by one, in better spirits that they had ever enjoyed on the ship. They were desperate to get off. Some of them disembarked much earlier than the ship touch the shore. In the meantime, ploughing slowly and plotting vehemently, were these local inhabitants. Stepping up from their aboriginal nativity, they were hiding behind the bushes ; ready to defend themselves against a new foreign invasion. All of a sudden and in frenzied hustle, dozens of tribesmen wearing garlands made of crimson flowers , swiftly chased the seafarers, bringing them to ground —next to the graves of the deceased ancestors ☠️. As the ship parked itself next to the reef , every seaman was flanked out , jolted down and scattered dead along the beach . And no sooner had the sun shore and the sea stood up to earth, in the presence of the morning calm, another gory scene erupted, serendipitously.

Dozens of natives with cannibalistic instincts, quickly emerged in hazed gatherings ,and as ‘hounds, they attacked the newcomers. This was their only chance to keep out the strangers forcefully occupying their lands . As the winds passaged that evening , many good and bad spirits seemingly cropped up in this strange place...something that could be hideously remembered was this massacre of dead 💀 bodies. Spread over them were heaps of marigold flowers, crushed and crest fallen over them by humanity’s inadvertent calamity.

As clear as it looked, flashes of marigold petals got ripped in the conflict. Yellowish and Orangish tints of rescuing piety floated all over the bloodied water spread across surrounding dwellings. And, in this the fact noticeable was somewhat this:

How the battling men squandered around and how they attempted to give a leading personage to the history; often believing what they believed, yet, in the process, appointing their own antithesis to the age old adage: Live and Let Live !

And therein, as though, sinners sensibility was being firmly revived . Everyone was found to be adhering to whatever one owed in allegiance to thee - the almighty. Not a soul on the ship survived.

The entire area —the shore , the tranquil on the sand ,and deep blue sea, had turned into this—sacrificial piety of staunch devotees. Herein, the luminosity borrowed from the light of the sun , was reflecting itself in the constant streams of altruistic loyalties.

All in the way, this all , was indicative of some shamanic regime...a sight which the Portuguese had never known but it was enough to be feared in the dreams.