Taking a walk in the beach is like passing through a kaleidoscope. There are different images at every turn. Some beautiful, some not so very.
There's a balloon stand. The colorful balloons waiting to be shot at and the poor man sitting by, waiting for someone to come and shoot, and fill his pockets.
Then there's a couple in love, intertwined as if inseparable. Locked in love, unaware of their surroundings.
I see an old lady selling mangoes, seasoning it with chilli powder, waiting for someone to come by and relish it.
I also see two people, fighting with each other, the guy hitting his girlfriend, threatening her, the girl hitting him back.
There are little children flying kites, running about, untroubled by worries.
There is a man, who in his inebriated state of mind, is sleeping on the beach, arms and legs spread about, as if he were in his bedroom.
Take for instance the little boy selling groundnuts. Disturbing the lovers, to make a sale.
Then there are children playing a ball game. Cheering loudly as they score points.
As I walk on the sands, struggling to take keep the sand off my sandals, the saltiness in the air finding a place in my mouth, also subtly settling on my skin, making it sticky. The distinct smell of fish, rotten and fresh; I know I'm getting close to the waves.
I hesitate to let the waves wash my feet; wary of the dirt it is carrying with it. But tempted by the soothing comfort it will bring to my tired soles, I soak my toes in the water. As the waves pass through my toes, slowly tickling my ankles, and moving away, as if trying to carry me also into the water, I clutch my feet into the sand and keep myself steady. One wave after the other, the waters come to me, and then go away from me. I know, the one moment I loosen my grip, I will go away with the waves.
Life is like that for me. Trials and tribulations try to sweep me away from my soul. But I cling on. As long as I know I can control my grip over my character and principles, no wave will wash me away.
As I walk back from the beach, the scenes repeat themselves; this time in darkness, under the shadows of the setting sun. Love, hatred, loneliness, fulfillment; so many faces on the beach, so many phases of the beach.
