Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Morning at Mondarmoni

It was about six in the morning when I quietly crept out of the resort by the Bay of Bengal. I had been by the sea for an entire evening but I hadn't got the chance to spend some quality time, alone. Knowing fully well that once my family wakes up, there would be no more chance to do so, I dressed quickly and quietly and rushed to the main gate. Only nto find it locked. The resort owners had had a long night and no one was awake yet to open the gates. No one in the resort was awake as yet. There was still about half an hour till sunrise, something I was not going to miss, not again. I looked around for a way to exit the resort and found that the wall on one side was low enough to jump over. Now, it has been quite a while since I attempted anything remotely as adventuruous. My brain was quick to suggest looking for an alternative but my heart, as always, yearned for trouble. I have to admit, as soon as I landed, safely, on the other side of the wall... I was ecstatic. Years of not taking risks, were regrettable. It was just a few more moments to the glorious sunrise, definitely not the best time for regrets, so I headed to the sea.

There was no one in sight and as is the nature of the sea, the water had withdrawn a long way from the beach. The beach was alive, though. Thousand of little red crabs scampered at the sensation of my approaching footsteps. I was obviouslly not welcome here. The red crabs, now a protected species, nest all day in the sandy beach of Mondarmoni and are active at night when humans, and other predators, are no threat to them. A good half an hour of carefully avoiding stepping on any nests or crabs, I was where the sea meets the sand. The beach, now extended as far as the eye could sea, was a glorious sight. Golden sands in the morning sun and the sound of the distant waves put me in a trance and my feet too heed of my heart's command and I walked on... seeking the sea. I stopped several times, spotting starfish, sea urchins and an incredible array of seashells. I walked on and on for about an hour, yet the promised horizon eluded me. With every step, I felt a nothingness engulf me. I seem to drop my worldly cares behind me and moved on to a promised happiness.

With every step the waves sounded closer, the sky seemed clearer and the horizon, unbroken. I walked on, feeling no fatigue, thirst or any human need. Finally, I came upon a slight mound of wet sand and beyond it, the sea. I had no notion of when the tide would turn against me and although logic appealed that I might be too far to return to safety in time, it did not seem important. The sound of the waves, crashing at my foot like clockwork, was magical. It was a powerful magic that held me there, where no man or woman ever stood. That place, that time, was mine. Only mine. I sank to my feet at the wonder of the creator, the blessings that led me to experience this powerful moment. As my mind whirled with the magnitude of the experience, the sea kept lapping at my feet in rhythm. Life goes on, I had heard so many times and here I was, moments after a spiritual experience, waking up to the reality of the saying. My life had changed in those few moments by the sea and yet, nothing changed for the sea.

It was time to return to my responsibilities. I turned around to the shore only to spot my husband in the distance, making his way towards me. The few people on the shore seemed like small specks, like the crabs from ealrier that morning. I xmiled and started to make my way back.


  1. Beautiful. A monologue is more difficult to write than a travelogue. Waiting for more.

  2. Thank you so much. Your appreciation means a lot to me.