Freedom of Expression

The man came out of the sea unapologetically naked. He turned his head towards me as I hid my surprised glance behind my sunglasses. Unapologetically, he lay down sunbathing a few steps from me, naked.

He had arrived an hour or so before, but his descent into the clear enveloping waters as unburdened and free as a newborn baby went unnoticed until I finished the chapter, closed my book and sat down, ready to take in the beauty of a day when the sea was particularly clear and the sky deep blue. Ironically, the book I was reading, by the talented poet and writer Tishani Doshi, was titled ‘The Pleasure Seekers’. On its cover, a woman on a platform in the middle of the sea.

I’ve posted pictures of this bay many times, but as the tide changes, so does the landscape, literally and metaphorically speaking. A corner of the (semi) deserted beach was dotted with yellow flowers I had not seen before, small crabs were running sideways, a white heron stood next to me on the platform where I swam to enjoy the view from another perspective. Tiny glittering fish whirled underneath.
Back on my straw mat, I thought about the eerie quiet of the place in a city that was now teeming with ebullient energy, hope, chanting and hand-holding (because these are the aspects that make this historical moment so special). I also thought about the man near me, now talking on the phone.
Was he a pleasure seeker or was he simply exercising his right to freedom of expression?