Some Infatuation

When we sat down on the balcony that evening facing the wide expanse of blue, I kept thinking that I have had enough of the sea. Most trips we make inevitably led us to one beach or the other and over the past this pattern has kept on repeating enough to have obtained a cliche status. There were nine of us that evening : four different varieties of homo sapiens and five bottled entities. As the evening steadily progressed into the night, the topics of conversation flowed effortlessly and aimlessly. The enchantment cast by the bottled jinn could have well been summed up as : sloshed !

My favorite part of the evening was well past one at night when we decided to head out on a stroll on the deserted beach. As we came down the stairs, a lone mongrel lying on the steps raised its head and looked at us and seeing no potential food went back to sleep. Heads full of magical cobwebs where thoughts ,dreams and words intertwined to form gossamer thin threads we headed to the beach. The water even at this time of the night was lukewarm and the waves caressed the feet with a wildness that they did not possess during the day. They were not the kind that wanted to drag you into their embrace and disappear into the dark beyond but were just a notch above being playful with your feet. Alluring yet not seductive, reeking of power and yet not dangerous, something along those lines. We started walking together at first and after a while when I shook myself out of thoughts, they were far behind on the beach playing doodle on the sand. I waved at their distant shapes far away on the beach and stood back.

A little distance away on the steps that led down to the sand sat a group of westerners. Bottles, glasses and the occasional smoke (or joint) kept passing between them and their laughter drifted across to me as if from far away. High up, nestled in its bed of clouds rested the moon casting a watery and weak light on all of this. Out in the sea blinked the odd light from a fishing boat which made me imagine them as a Cyclops, the one eyed monster out of the Greek myths who stared at all of us from the vast unknown. How’s that for sloshed musings ?

Standing there with my hands stuffed into the pockets and the water lapping at my feet I was filled with a sort of contentment which is rare to come across. Little things in life can bring you more happiness than all the elusive aspects you search for. The calm that such a carefree evening wraps you in cannot really be recreated often. They don’t occur quite so often and are a delight when you finally arrive at them. A call echoed across to beach, it was time to go back to the room.

Strike out that first line of having had enough of the sea. There are some infatuations you can never break, some caresses you can never have enough of. The sea is that lover for whom there shall always be a craving for !

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