The seahorse was my last connection with childhood and a beautiful innocent imagination.
I had not seen a seahorse in reality. I knew a fact about the male seahorse, but who doesn’t. I thought a horse, so size is big, then my memory dug into archives to a cartoon with a person riding the seahorse, my brain said size should be huge. So, in conclusion, a seahorse is a massive S shape with a fat belly floating in the sea, a mythical creature.
That was the extent of my data re seahorses. I go to Thailand, the dive instructors says, there is one seahorse that is usually in this area, let us try to find it. Everyone gets super psyched!
Shit, it is going to be huge? am I scared? can I ride it and sail away like the next little big mermaid? Is it going to attack me?how big is that sea horse? Is it male, is it pregnant? I asked myself quietly – Thank God.
30 minutes into the dive, I had forgotten the seahorse, I was diving in an art masterpiece, I forgot my own existence. The instructor looks at me, super excited and signs me to come forward and look. There, between the bushes, stands a huge tiny yellow seahorse, magical, majestic, sucking on the leaves and blowing air bubbles. The seahorse had a red outline on the back and it looked like a yellow spongy mesh. That seahorse was the size of a jumbo shrimp, for the lack better measurement. It was not a giant, it didn’t sparkle and I would have broke its back if I attempted to ride it.
For a second, I didn’t understand what I was seeing until I found myself in an odd space of embarrassment, utter astonishment and an extreme urge to give that seahorse a kiss on the lips.
Reality hit hard that day and ignorance was beautiful and rewarding and our minds were the most colorful when we were kids. A mixture of imagination and play is all it took to create. Now, whenever I close my eyes to think of the present, I imagine a seahorse.
FrequencyForty 