Kabir stood on Agatti Island, staring at the ocean. The water was a perfect blend of blue and green. Turquoise blue. No, turquoise green. Kabir couldn't decide which one. He glanced at the green stone on his ring. Then, he noticed the swell of the waves crashing against the shore. The water appeared blue. A male swimmer in navy blue trunks emerged from the water, and the water now looked green. The sand was neither brown nor white. But it almost looked white, like powdered shells spread across acres. The resort was nothing too fancy to look at. Just enough to suffice a hot bath, a good night's sleep, and some decent meals. He yawned, thinking about his eighteen-hour flight from San Francisco to Mumbai. A two-hour flight from Mumbai to Kochi. One hour and a thirty-minute flight from Kochi to Agatti. It felt like a lifetime to reach this place.

His dead wife, Maya, would have loved the simplicity of this island. She would have admired how the rocks surrounding the island took on exquisite shapes, especially the one shaped like a mushroom. Maya used to love stir-fried mushrooms. He could imagine her gazing at the coconut trees swaying, their long leaves tossed by the breeze. He sighed and noticed a few people snorkeling near the reef. It was only April, and the sun was already burning his eyes. This island was undoubtedly pristine. Yet he couldn't help wondering what intrigued Maya so much about coming here for their fifth anniversary.

****

We could go to Hawaii," Kabir suggested. "It is closer."

Maya sat on a couch in their cozy Palo Alto home, holding a mystery thriller novel. There was a distant expression in her eyes.

"My maternal Grandma always told me stories about this place when I was a little girl. The last king of Kerala encountered a shipwreck while leaving on his pilgrimage. He and his men swam to Agatti Island and took refuge there until the storm passed. They loved it so much that they ended up staying there. They spent time fishing. And one day, the ocean swallowed them. Nobody knows why or what happened,” she sounded unusually high-pitched.

Maya has always had a passion for mysteries and folklore. She taught courses on writing mystery novels and was working on a book inspired by Indian mythology and folklore.

"I've always wanted to visit Agatti. But my parents felt it was too far from Mumbai. And then we came here...," she remarked wistfully.

Kabir began fiddling with his paintbrushes while Maya continued talking.

"Have you seen the red paint bottle?" he asked.

"I am curious to know what happened to the king and his men. Maybe it could be research for my book," she persisted. "Besides that, I heard the place is great for diving."

Kabir looked up from his painting. They both loved the outdoors and adventure.

Maya continued, "You would get some new inspiration to paint, too. And it's our fifth anniversary, Kabir."

Outside the window, a bird chirped and flew away.

"Let me mull over it." Kabir splashed blue paint on his canvas. "Maybe once this exhibition in San Francisco is over, I can get more time to think."

They never went to Agatti Island. Kabir received a phone call that Saturday afternoon before his art exhibition. As Maya's emergency contact, the police informed him about her accident on the 101 highway.

"Is she okay?" he felt a throbbing pain in his head.

"It ain't looking good," the deep voice on the other end told him.

He abandoned the show and rushed to the accident site near San Mateo. The sight made his heart stop beating. He wished it were just a bad dream and that he'd wake up to find Maya next to him, snoring peacefully. How he wanted those red splats to be blobs of paint, and that horrifying image to be just something he had painted on his canvas. What wouldn't he do to see her hazel brown eyes open and smile at him with those luscious pink lips he often kissed? He was willing to go anywhere with her, even if it meant taking five flights to that destination. Now, she'd left him stranded alone. The traffic on 101 was moving slowly. Maya had taken off on her journey to the afterlife. The formalities and the funeral were all a blur.

For days, he couldn't leave his home in Palo Alto. He quit his job even though his boss asked him to reconsider. His mind couldn't work the same way. At night, he'd hear noises. Sometimes, it was a creaking sound as though someone was walking on the wooden floor. Sometimes, it was a knock on his window. He would wake up sweating. Maybe it was the wind. Or perhaps it was…he couldn't say the word. His logical engineering mind wouldn't allow him to believe in things like spirits or ghosts.

Maya once asked him if he believed in the afterlife.

He shrugged and shook his head.

"Do you?" he asked her.

"My dead maternal grandma often comes in my dreams. There are unfulfilled desires. There are unsaid messages,” her voice trailed.

Her eyes bore a strange look that Kabir couldn't comprehend. It was an expression he couldn't capture on his canvas. Was it pain? Regret? Anguish? He couldn't tell.

Cobwebs started to form on his wall. He discovered a peculiar solace in the presence of a spider living in his home. He gazed at the intricate patterns in the cobwebs. Three months since Maya was gone. His hand shook every time he held a paintbrush. For days, he stared at the white canvas before him, imagining her mass of wavy black curls, twinkling hazel-brown eyes, long nose, and pink, luscious lips curved into a smile. He refused to answer phone calls or messages. Not from his parents or her parents, who called from India. Not from Maya's brother, who suggested Kabir should come and stay with him and his family for a few months in Dallas. The mere thought of those sympathetic looks and unsolicited advice about moving on or even remarrying made him shudder.

One night, he had a strange dream. Maya was standing on an island and beckoning him with open arms. He was chasing her. She dived into the clear blue waters of a lagoon. He followed her, watching her bob of curls on the mass of waves. Then she disappeared. He stretched his arm forward to propel himself through the water.

"Maya," he woke up, drenched in sweat.

His breathing was hoarse. When he glanced at the clock, it was three in the morning. He mulled over his dream. Was Maya trying to tell him something? A message? A request? He looked up images of Agatti Island on his laptop: a shape resembling a fish, with pristine blue waters and coconut trees. It featured exquisite shades of blue and green. After a week, he decided to make a trip there, partly to fulfill Maya's last request and partly out of curiosity. He may also find a cure for his painter's block.

Painting was his favorite childhood pastime. As an only child who struggled to connect with many of his peers, Kabir found solace in the world of colors and canvas. From roses and hibiscus flowers to his mother's kitchen, the crow at the window, pigeons on his balcony, and mango trees, he spent his summer vacations and free evenings after school dabbing his paintbrushes in vibrant colors and creating vivid shades on the plain white canvas. His parents even enrolled him in an art class. However, he realized it wasn't a lucrative pursuit. He moved to the Bay Area for his master's in computer science and found a job at one of the leading Tech companies. He used his paintbrushes only when he needed a break from his laptop. He met Maya in an art studio in the Bay Area—one of those places where one could paint and sip wine. They bonded over their love for art and dated for two years before they married. Maya was always giving him ideas. From sunsets, cocktails they'd sip at the local bars, the tulips during spring, the different birds they'd spot at Baylands Trail during their hikes, or just the fall colors. His hands would move freely around the canvas. It felt like the paintbrush was leading him on a tour into the unexplored. Perhaps Maya thought Agatti would inspire him to delve into that canvas world and bring some color back into his dreary life.

****

Kabir needed to determine how long he would stay. He had only booked a one-way ticket. The resort manager didn't inquire. He was shown to his room, just a few feet away from the ocean. It had the basic necessities of a bed and a bathroom equipped with towels, soap, and shampoo. There was no television, and the internet connection seemed unreliable. Kabir set his suitcase, canvas, and paints on the floor. He lay down on his bed and drifted into a deep sleep.

Kabir woke up to the sound of the waves the next morning. Glimpses of the sun's rays streamed into his room. He freshened up and stepped outside. The sky was a radiant blue with streaks of yellow. The ocean was a pristine shade of turquoise blue, glistening in the sunlight. He decided to take a stroll on the beach. Hermit crabs crawled on the wet sand. He observed a fisherman preparing his boat. The fisherman had a mop of black hair, a dirty white cloth tied around his forehead, and a black mole on his left cheek. The fisherman caught Kabir staring at him and flashed a broad grin. Kabir nodded and watched the fisherman steer the boat into the ocean. He imagined Maya floating on her back in the salty blue mass of water. He would have been capturing photographs of her, maybe even trying to paint a portrait of her in the ocean. A sudden thought struck him: of all the things he'd painted, he had never created a picture of her. He smacked his head. How could he not? Maybe he had taken her for granted. For the nth time, he wished she were here.

One time, when they took a walk on Ocean Beach, Maya stood there, listening to the murmur of the waves and watching the sun sink behind the clouds. Maya commented on how the sound of waves soothed her. She loved how the ocean instilled tranquility in her. She might have also liked the unhurried and slow-paced atmosphere of his place. She always felt rushed in the Bay Area. The hustle and bustle of the traffic, preparing notes, students' queries, and all that research for her book. It left her stressed out and irritable.

Kabir wiped a tear. His gaze fell on the giant wooden board that extended into the lagoon. He noticed a couple of tourists holding some gear and standing on the board, waiting to climb into a boat. He walked and stood at the end of the board, absorbing the ocean's exotic mix of blue and green shades. A turtle swam in the lagoon and periodically came up to the surface to get some air.

As a little boy, his father would take him to see the turtles laying eggs on the beach at night. The water glimmered under the moonlight as the turtles crawled to the sand, dug hard with their hind legs, and laid their eggs. Kabir was astounded by the sight of new life being created. His father told him that seeing a turtle symbolized resilience. He had seen his father endure business downfalls and emerge stronger whenever he came to see the turtles. Kabir wondered if the turtle was some sign for him. He wandered on the beach the entire morning. He retreated to his room and took a long nap.

When he woke up, Kabir's stomach growled. He stepped out of his room and glanced at the sky. It had turned ink blue—a shade he could achieve by mixing black and blue. More of black and a dash of blue. The tide was high, and it felt like the waves were swallowing the sun. Was it already the end of the day? The tourists he saw in the morning were getting off the boat and heading back to their rooms. He walked on the beach for a while and stood by the ocean. He spotted a black shadow in the twilight. He strained his eyes to get a proper glimpse. Something moved. He spotted something long.  Then he heard a voice calling out to him. He turned to see a figure floating above the water, waving its hands. His heart skipped a beat. As the figure drew closer, he recognized the face of the toothy fisherman he had seen that morning.

"Look here, Sir. Go back to your room," he hollered.

"Why?" Kabir looked confused.

"You have come so far." The fisherman waved his hands again.

Kabir looked back and realized how far he had come from his room. The sand beneath his feet felt cold.

"Here. Hop on my boat," the fisherman gestured to Kabir.

A fishy smell filled the air. Kabir waded into the water and reluctantly sat inside the boat next to the fisherman. In a mix of Malayalam and broken English, the fisherman engaged in small talk about Kabir's visit. Kabir could barely understand Malayalam, having grown up in North India and spent his young adult years abroad. Maya knew Malayalam from her mother's side, but she rarely spoke it.

"You arrived only today, Sir?" the fisherman enquired.

"Yes." Kabir stared at the waves.

"How long are you staying?"

"Not sure," Kabir shrugged.

"Ahh. You should visit this uninhabited island, Sir. It's full of colorful hermit crabs. Not very far."

Kabir stared at the fisherman, wondering if he knew that Kabir was an artist.

"No family?" The fisherman's question seemed innocuous, but Kabir's face reddened. Then, he quickly averted his gaze and asked the fisherman why no one ventured into the deep end of the island.

"Ah. Long story, Sir," the fisherman quipped.

"Tell me." Kabir was curious.

The fisherman began the tale.

"Many years ago, the fisherfolk in that part of the island caught something unusual: a big fish with a human-like face and distinct features, including luscious plum-red lips, doe-shaped eyes, a long nose, and flowing hair like the waves of the ocean. The hair was jet-black, resembling the sky during a thunderstorm—something no other island could boast of. At first, they couldn't believe what they saw. They gaped in awe. But then, greed took over. They chained it and placed it in a cage with a large can of water beneath it near their huts on the beach. They aimed to attract more tourists, generate revenue, and achieve financial success. Alas, it suffered. It refused food. It cried for days, dwelling in grief, separated from its loved ones, and struggled against the chains. One day, they found its body still. They buried it. The sea lashed out on the shore, transcending its limits, sweeping the huts and three families into the water. A total of twenty people died. It haunts that part of the island and even the sea. People who ventured there were reduced to nothing but dead remains."

Kabir raised his eyebrows and looked at the fisherman, feeling confused. Didn't Maya tell him something different? A Kerala king who encountered a shipwreck. Was the fisherman telling the truth? This could be the superstition of a place that was backward.

"Really? he asked.

"You do not believe me, Sir? You ask anyone," the fisherman insisted.

The ride ended. They both got off the boat.

"And what was it precisely that the fisherfolk caught?" asked Kabir, twisting his ring.

The fisherman had a distant look.

"A big fish. Sir. Strange breed. Perhaps a human was cursed and transformed into a fish."

 Kabir scratched his head. Was there something Maya didn't tell him? Was she aware of this? Was it the king's men who were destroyed as they tried to catch the creature and imprison it? Who or what was the strange creature? He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to come here. He fiddled with his ring again.

"That's a nice ring, Sir. Beautiful color like the lagoon," the fisherman remarked. "You will come for dinner, Sir? Nice fresh catch."

Kabir nodded distractedly. Later, at dinner, he met the resort manager and asked him.

"Who told you?" the manager asked.

Kabir pointed to the fisherman.

The manager stayed quiet for a moment. Then he shook his head and asked Kabir in a brisk, businesslike tone.

"So, how was your day?"

“Landed this morning. But feels like a week already," said Kabir, twisting his ring again.

“Nice ring,” the manager remarked.

“Thanks,” mumbled Kabir.

"Sleep well tonight." The resort manager patted Kabir on the back. "Try the scuba diving expedition. You'll love it. Some great diving sites here."

When Kabir went to bed, he remembered the time when he and Maya went snorkeling in Maui on their honeymoon. They jumped off the boat wearing their pink and yellow fins. He and Maya held hands while they explored the bright pink corals and the orange-colored fish. Kabir was pulled deeper into the water by Maya. Together, they swam alongside the fish. There was one big redfish that swam between them. Kabir held Maya's hand tightly, slightly taken aback by the fish's intrusion. Later, Maya teased Kabir about the fish, and they both laughed. Then Maya expressed her desire to go diving. They tried the Discover Scuba expedition. However, they never had the opportunity to get certified. They both got busy with their work commitments.

****

The next morning, Kabir walked over to the resort’s water sports section named Aqua Adventures located on the beach. It was close to his room. Kabir was surprised he had missed it on his walk yesterday. He met the Scuba instructor, Mike. Mike was pleasant and friendly. Kabir said he was keen to go diving.

"Alright, let's get you started this morning.”

The next hour, Kabir was introduced to the nuances and world of scuba diving. Mike explained how to put on the dive suit, mask, fins, and other gear. At first, Kabir found it overwhelming. Then, Mike helped him put on the equipment. Together, they entered the lagoon to see if Kabir was comfortable underwater. Kabir soon became immersed in an exotic world of light blue. He spotted the turtle again before it disappeared to the surface. The only sound he could hear was his own breathing. He lost track of time until Mike tapped him and led him to the surface.

"Well, you looked good today. If the weather is good tomorrow, let's head out to one of the diving sites. We’ll do two dives." Mike pointed in the direction where Kabir had met the fisherman the previous evening.

Kabir wondered whether Mike was aware of the folklore. He was about to ask him, but since Mike was from Australia, he would likely dismiss it as pointless gossip. Instead, Kabir nodded and confirmed he would meet Mike at 9 a.m. the next morning. Afterward, he returned to the room and took a short nap. Being by the ocean made him feel drowsy. Later that evening, he grabbed a quick dinner, thanked the resort manager for his suggestion, and retreated to bed.

The following morning, Kabir met Mike at Aqua Adventures—the water sports section. Besides Kabir, there were four other men from different parts of India. After the initial round of introductions, they boarded the boat and headed toward the other side of the island. All four men were certified divers who had completed several dives in the Andaman Islands and the Maldives. The sun beat down fiercely, and the blue waves looked choppy. Kabir put on his gear as Mike had instructed, with some assistance from the boat crew. Then he jumped into the water. Once the group was in the water, they followed Mike's instructions and began to descend. Mike stayed close to Kabir.

The cacophony of voices on the boat became faint.  Kabir found himself surrounded by contours of blue. His ears were blocked. He swallowed some saliva to equalize his ears. Suddenly, he spotted a dark shadow looming above him. For a moment, Kabir froze. The shadow disappeared. Kabir wondered if it was his imagination. Kabir made his body horizontal to the ocean floor and flapped his fins with his hands by his side. The oxygen tank felt like a feather on his back underwater. He looked at the different shapes of coral—a dwarf tree with bare branches shaped like a human brain and a mushroom. He stared at the mushroom-shaped coral for a while. It was a unique shade of brown and cream mixed. The other corals were in striking shades of orange, pink, yellow, and purple. A brownish-orange fish swam towards him. He watched it swish its tail fin in a perfect rhythm. It appeared unfazed by his presence. He looked at its large, droopy eyes and detected a tinge of sadness. He almost stretched his arm to touch it. But Mike's strict instructions about not touching marine life reverberated in his ears. Mike nudged him and pointed towards a rock. Kabir saw a pair of antennae sticking out. The partially jutted-out body was a mix of yellow and red stripes. The spiky lobster withdrew into a hole in the rock. Kabir felt an instant empathy toward this creature. Why couldn't it be left alone? Then, he felt a pang of guilt.

On Valentine's Day last year, Maya and he dined at a seafood restaurant that served some delicious grilled lobster and oysters. Maya relished the lobster along with a glass of wine.

"I don't mind living underwater just to be able to eat these lobsters," she quipped.

Kabir chuckled. He thought Maya looked beautiful that night in her flowy purple dress, with her wavy hair tied in a bun. It highlighted her cheekbones and eyes even more.

Kabir averted his gaze from the lobster. The world around him was now a blend of blue and green. A deep shade of blue at some points. Turquoise green in other places. Red snappers and blue-green parrot fish zoomed past him. Then he saw that shadow again. Was it a shark? His breathing became rapid. The shadow attained shape and color, and he recognized the webbed feet under that long-streamlined shell. He heaved a sigh of relief as the turtle swam above him. He glanced at the expression on its face. Focused, calm, and placid.

Just then, Mike tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the surface. Kabir understood their first dive was coming to an end. From deep blue, the ocean became light blue. When Kabir reached the surface,  the sound of waves filled his ears. The crew helped him take off his fins and climb back to the boat. He blinked as the sun began to hurt his eyes. The turtle came up to breathe. The group of four men began to chat excitedly about the fish they had seen underwater. Dripping wet, with his wetsuit pulled down to his waist, Kabir listened quietly. The chatter continued until Mike called for a second dive at a site a little beyond the mushroom-shaped rock. Mike gave some instructions about using an inflatable marker. He held a long orange floating device.

“Try to stay together as a group. If you drift apart, please use this. Each of you has an inflatable marker in a pouch attached to your Buoyancy Control Device. Remove the buoy from your pocket. Hold it in your right hand and inflate it. Before launching the buoy, ensure there are no obstructions above you. A crew member will always be on the lookout for the marker. They will promptly retrieve you with the lifeboat when they see it. Is that clear?”

Kabir and the group nodded before jumping into the choppy water one by one. Following Mike's instruction, they descended into the depths. A cascade of blue enveloped Kabir, a shade of ink blue. It felt cold and dark. Mike stayed close to Kabir this time as well. Kabir noticed some specks of orange—tiny fish swimming in a shoal. He saw the rest of the group observing something on the ocean bed. It was a long stretch of green moss with tiny yellow growth-like thorns. It was a sea cucumber. There was a small yellow crab nestled on the sea cucumber.

And then Kabir saw that dark shadow once more. This time, he immediately recognized the pair of flippers, the greenish-brown shell, and the calm face. The turtle brushed past him. Suddenly, he felt an irresistible pull toward it. With one arm stretched forward, he flapped his fins and swam after the turtle. Mike's instructions about staying together as a group slipped from his mind. Like Alice, he was lured into this aquatic rabbit hole. Kabir had no idea why he was following the turtle. Eventually, the turtle became a speck and vanished into the depths of the mysterious unknown. When Kabir looked around, there was no trace of light or sight of coral. He was surrounded by ink blue.  His breathing quickened, and he accidentally opened his mouth. He swallowed the seawater and began to cough and choke. He tried to kick, but his legs felt paralyzed.

Was it cramps? Was he having a heart attack? He couldn't understand what was happening. How far from the group was he? How deep? He began to hear strange noises in his ears like bees humming. Shadows encircled him. Black human-like figures danced in front of him. Nothing made sense. He started to feel dizzy. What did Mike say? Something about holding a stick? A marker? He pulled out an inflatable marker from his buoyancy control device. Then he saw something huge coming toward him. He felt a giant tailfin brush his face. He opened his mouth again and tried to make sense of what he saw. Was it eyes, a nose, and hair? The figure became hazy and translucent. His eyes snapped shut. The world around him turned black, and he stopped moving.

When Kabir opened his eyes, he found himself on the moving boat. His dive suit was undone. Anxious faces surrounded him. Kabir blinked and coughed. His head felt heavy. The last thing he remembered was being lost underwater. And then everything went black.

"Are you okay?" Mike placed his hand on Kabir's forehead.

Kabir nodded weakly.

"Good thing you used that inflatable marker." Mike pointed to the orange buoy beside him.

Kabir stared at it. How? What? A flurry of questions engulfed his mind.

"One of the crew boys immediately spotted it and rushed in that direction. He found you unconscious. What happened?" asked Mike.

Kabir shook his head. He couldn't remember anything. The boat was nearing the shore. One of the group members handed him a bottle of water. He took a sip.

"We were worried when we didn't find you. I mean, you just disappeared," the member said.

The boat stopped. Kabir stood up, helped by that member. He gazed at the crystal waters of the lagoon. The sight of the turtle sparked his memory. He had followed that turtle. He got lost. Then he saw the giant tail fin and the face. Goosebumps broke out on his arms like little sprouts. He wrapped a towel around himself. The group gathered around him on the beach, concerned, curious, and perplexed. Kabir recounted what had happened to him.

"It must be Narcosis," one of the men said.

Kabir's eyebrows raised quizzically.

"Read it somewhere. Going too deep underwater can cause this condition. A feeling of being drunk and dizzy. Sometimes it causes hallucinations," the member explained.

"Oh," that's all Kabir could muster.

Was it just his imagination, or was he captivated by the folklore and conjuring an encounter with the mysterious figure? Did he use that marker? What had happened? He went to his room and collapsed onto his bed, exhausted from all that diving and the little adventure.

Later that evening, he bumped into the resort manager.

"I heard from Mike. How are you feeling?" the manager asked.

"Better," Kabir said.

"What happened?"

Kabir described the turtle and its bizarre face, resembling a human face with red lips, black eyes, a long nose, and hair, accompanied by a massive tail fin. The manager turned pale and grasped Kabir by the shoulders.

"Oh my God! You could have died. It saved you! But why?"

The manager was aware of this folklore. Kabir wondered why he didn't say anything on the first day.

"What saved me? " Kabir asked, feeling baffled.

"Oh, you don't know. I don't speak about it. But it has killed some tourists. I don't talk about it in case people begin to fear this island," the manager whispered.

Kabir could hardly eat a morsel at dinner. Even the grilled fish made his stomach churn. He requested some plain white rice and lentils. Then he rushed to his room.

What if he had died? Kabir pondered, lying on his bed. It could have ended his pain and suffering. Then he recalled his near-death experience: water, tail fin, and that face. It was so vivid in his mind now. He didn't want to forget that face. Was that the strange creature the fisherman was referring to? Why did it save him? He reflected on the walk that evening and how the fisherman had stopped him. The eerie ambiance lingered. Separated from its loved ones, the fisherman's voice echoed in his ears. Was this some sign? Something related to Maya's folklore and her insistence on coming here. Was there something she didn't tell him?

He got up and gathered his paintbrushes. His hands moved slowly at first. Rusty and uncertain, he outlined a shape with his brush. He stared at the streaks of bluish-green and felt a sudden tingling sensation. With every stroke, his hands became steadier. Suddenly, like a man possessed, his brush moved furiously across the canvas. His confidence grew as he gained a better grip on the brush. At one point, it felt like the brush had taken control of his hand. He found himself getting into that rhythm, dabbing different shades and colors on the canvas.

A few hours later, Kabir observed the canvas. It was filled with exotic shapes, sizes, and colors, a mix of blue and green. Corals in the shape of mushrooms and walnuts. Some big and small fish in shades of pink, purple, orange, and yellow. The turtle. The elongated moss green, with a tiny dot of yellow on it. A small rock with a jutted-out head with antennae. Red with yellow stripes. A large tail fin with well-defined scales, a shade of icy blue. Greyish tinge. Then, that face—black eyes, a long nose, and red lips. The mass of black waves crowned on top of the head. Then, he signed his name below the painting. He felt a strange mix of gratitude and melancholy. His mind still demanded answers about who that face belonged to. What possessed him? While he found his inspiration to paint again, he was still restless. He tossed and turned in his bed during the night.

That one time when he faced the painter's block, Maya encouraged him to go on a hike.

"Nature has a way of unblocking your inhibitions and providing solutions," she said.

Kabir went for a hike to Stanford Dish, where he spotted two fawns in the grasslands. He took a picture of them and later replicated that image on his canvas.

Kabir slept all day and didn't wake up until late afternoon. He left the painting in his room and walked along the beach to that prohibited part of the island where he had met the fisherman. He stood near the water as the sky darkened with the setting sun behind the waves. He noticed the water rushing towards him with urgency. He remained there, unsure of what he expected to see. A magnetic force pulled him to venture farther into the water.

The waves enveloped him, rising to his waist. He gazed at the salty mass of water and heard a splash. There, he spotted a strange, human-like shape. Curiosity propelled him closer. Questions swarmed in his mind. He waded farther into the water until it reached his neck. Images of Maya laughing danced in his thoughts. He wondered if he'd be able to paint again like he had the night before. The water rose to his chin. He closed his eyes as the waves wrapped him in a warm embrace.

****

A year later, some tourists saw a painting displayed in front of the Agatti Island resort. They marveled at the colors and called it a work of genius. The manager was ecstatic at the sudden increase in business. One woman from the tourist group approached him.

"How much for that painting?" She took out her wallet.

"Not for sale," the manager replied.

"Do you know who painted it?"

"Kabir Nair. He stayed with us for a few days.”

"The Kabir Nair? Here? Wow. What happened to him?" The woman persisted.

"Gone," the manager said.

"Gone where?"

"No one knows."

"That's strange."

The woman was interrupted by her five-year-old daughter.

"Mama, look, it's a mermaid in the painting. Please, can we buy it?"

The manager recalled the day when one of the staff approached him frantically to report that Kabir was missing. They searched far and wide across the island, but there was no trace of him. After a couple of days, a fisherman with a mole on his cheek discovered something unusual when he cut open the fish he had caught. It was a ring with a stone that was green, like the lagoon. The manager remembered Kabir twirling the ring on his left finger. He entered Kabir's room and found the painting bearing Kabir Nair's signature. He gaped at it in awe. What a magnificent portrayal of his island and its treasures.

The manager displayed an image of it on the website, the internet, and brochures. He received substantial offers for the painting, but he refused to sell it. He feared that the sea would exceed its bounds and wash away his resort if he parted with the artwork. The woman and her daughter urged him to sell it. Outside, the waves crashed on the shore until they drowned out the voices of the humans.