I wasn’t sure how many posts I would publish with respect to this series ‘Sandy Toes and Salty Kisses‘. I have exhausted all the beaches for which I had the digital photographs and there were totally 9 of them. Today being the end of this month, I thought of completing this series with a final post. I always had a thing for nature. When I first went to Ooty (or rather a small village in the hills) to stay with my friend in her tea estate for a couple of days, I fell in love with the mountains and calm and serene environment. I live in a land locked city. And the only region other than plains I have been to is the hills. I wished to live in a such a place if the opportunity arises.
And then when we visited the beaches, I loved the water too. I liked how the waves sounded when they crashed at the rocks or the gentle way they would caress your feet. I love it when it slightly rains while I am at the beach, something like the circle of water being complete at that time and the way the sea looks a little scary with the dark clouds closing in. A balance of the calm and the commotion. (Yeah, I am sort of obsessed with the theme of balance I think). I wondered if I had a choice where would I choose to live, will it be the huge and mighty mountains or close to the deep and intriguing sea (or any water body) ? Of course, I never got that choice, but it is better to be prepared right (did I tell you I was 50+% optimistic?). I have my answer now after all these years. I would choose water.
I am scared of it, combine it with the fact that I can’t swim, it is not a nice prospect. In fact, when we visited Ganges, my father and mother both had to hold me and push me into the water to complete my rituals. Really, they did push me into the water literally, I thought they were getting rid of their sins, but guess I was wrong (or was I ?). We have many ponds at temples in Kerala and every time we go there we are expected to take bath. But I am scared of those fishes biting my skin and I am a little shy to take bath in the open spaces. So I would always skip that ritual (even ready to incur the wrath of God, if it comes to that) and have never done it till now. So given all that, all I ever do is dip my leg in the water and sit and watch the waves. Watch people enjoy. When we were in Goa, the guys had such a blast and it was fun watching them enjoy it. There were so many kids who were so ecstatic in water. Seeing all those gives me so much happiness and joy. My sister is so fond of water. Doesn’t matter that she doesn’t know how to swim, she sees the sea, she has to get inside it.
If I am near the sea, you can see me like this (except that I will be looking out at the sea) contemplating all things or sometimes just thinking nothing
or enjoying this small girls wonder
or smiling at this dog’s enthusiasm and strength to try and invade the ocean to get what he wants
even enjoying the rise and fall of the people who try till the very end their hand at conquering the waves (this was my friend’s attempt at kayaking. They almost reached the shore waving their victory when a huge wave decided to humble them 🙂 )
Yes, my choice is decided. I would choose the sea side to live my ever after, how ever long it might be. But will it happen ? I don’t know. But will I dream of it? Yes.
“Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird,
That cannot fly.”
― Langston Hughes
I dream of lying on the sand with the sky growing dark and the moon shining high and bright , the waves creating a symphony in the background and my mind emptied of all thoughts except for enjoying that moment of nature and calm and ecstasy. This image would be my patronus.
I would like to end this series with this poem.
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls. – HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW