Moments by the Sea

Moments by the Sea

It is change of seasons in Boston; all that rain and spring giving way to a green summer. The soaring temperatures, warnings of a heat wave and tropical country like humidity have been a welcome respite and a reminder of the Indian summer that I so miss! And like all Bostonians, we had decided to not let such good weather go past us and have plans to gather enough sunshine to last the winter!

The weekend past we had made a trip to the Ogunquit beach in Maine. Even with the warm sands and crispy winds, the waters were still icy cold and the waves splashed in foamy contentment. The coastal lagoon of Perkins cove was an ever scenic walk with the ocean crashing against the rocks.

I had in childlike spirit, trekked the subtly steep mossy rocks leading to the deep splattering sea. The rock divide, caused waters to gush through them creating a rivulet of waves and gurgling noises. In the silence of the noisy waves, the tinge of a saline humid fog and the sea salt in every breath, we had parked ourselves on the rocks to capture the view that lay ahead of us. And I believe I could arrest that picture perfect sunny misty sea, as beautiful as it was, only because we had forgotten to carry the camera and if anything could hold that moment it was just the memory.

Beaches have always been an unwavering infatuation and considering that one can’t travel to the sea here like I would all year round to Besi beach in Chennai, beaches to me, have become that sought after feel of freedom. There is always an inexplicable romance about watching the unending horizons and feeling the brackish whiff the breeze brings to your face. And having grown up waddling in the shankumukam beach of Trivandrum, I would still associate the beach with a west coast Arabian Sea and the crimson sunset;

My best moments with appa, preserved in remembrance, were begging to stay for the last dab from another wave, until the orange sun had hidden itself and painted the sky pink; I would then return, holding the conical paper pack of sand-fried peanuts, sticky salty legs and sand grabbing to them, much to the annoyance of amma’s sense of hygiene.

But then, as I watched the dusk set in on the Ogunquit beach, a grayish blue sky with streaks of red here and there, the east coast had failed to recreate the magic of a sunset, of that scintillating red fire like waters and burning skies. Yet, to me, the sea is that pinnacle of free will; of leaving your ties behind on the land, of knowing that there is life beyond the little space you have created for yourself in the world, of letting go your inhibitions and running free.

Ah! The beautiful sea!

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