As self-indulgent and childish as I have been, school uniform was given so much consideration in choosing my dream; the one which metaphors intelligence, dexterity, fame and wealth. Oblivious of what it would bring, I chose the course with the identifying look, a white school uniform which I thought was the most stunning.

Later I learned the shadows of my uniform as I sailed with the enormous, gigantic and square-rigged transport. Like in a fairytale that as I reached the midnight of my fantasies, everything about the white, comfortable, ego-boosting uniform suddenly turned into an oily, greasy, dirty and itchy coverall. A garment that leastwise gives me protection yet brings no options but to have it as a usual companion while bearing its dreadful fashion.

Along with it comes so much unbearable and beyond the pale misery and even a bucket of beer will never, at least momentarily, bring me back my fantasy. Every single day I a struggle to defeat the ambiance that somehow literally gives me a taste of the torment of undesirable pit of afterlife. If asked to define it concretely, it would be easy anyway

Most often times I have to work under the engine room’s excruciating and piercing temperature that by hook or by crook directly combats the foundation of my ferocity. And by the side of it is the boisterous and deafening clatter of working engines that causes my mind and heart to ponder, “Am I taking the right way?”

There are also tasks which really caught me in surprise; with just a breathe of their beyond compare aroma, they left me horrified. Funny as it seems, I always find myself working in an inconceivable place that with its restricted space I have to play in a crocodile pace. And above all, the darkest of them all, is the distance that gives me no chance to have a glance of my loved ones. Whenever left alone in an unobtrusive place, tears roll down unconsciously which is definitely caused by the memory of my family.

I discern that every seaman across the world shares the same misery and we only differ how we deal with it accordingly. I know I sound so absurd and ridiculous for describing my life this way but these are just facts anyway. Surely I believe that in telling comes healing so please understand me if this is my way of expressing. But believe me if say that if these shadows are what it takes to give what is best for my family, then I would dare to take another shot of its agony. And if these odds would build in me a stronger and better personality, then I would not bother changing the piece of my destiny.

The fact of the existence of these shadows that drag us down to the deepest is what makes us different from other lines of profession. We are selfless. We are self-sacrificing. We are dignified. We are noble. In the name of our love to our family, we dared to venture the open seas not minding the sorrow that is underway.

I am still a neophyte in this race and for sure sooner or later I will learn to harmonize colors with the shadows of my white chool uniform. And one day I’ll tell the world that I am a seaman and I am proud to be!

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