Sunday, June 5, 2011


I stand atop the small sand dune that slopes down towards the rumbling sea. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and feel a smile blooming within me.

I start walking towards the sea. The sun is a big ball of beautiful fire, slowly sinking into the churning waters. The sky has so many shades of pink, red and crimson tinting the delicate blue. It reminds me of a wish a friend once made. I want curtains of exact that colour. Today, I want them too.

I reach the sea and the first waves eagerly welcome me. I delight in their embrace, the sensation of the earth slipping out from between my toes. My eyes sweep the beach. I am alone. I like this solitude. This world at this moment belongs to me. The sea, the sun, the evening – everything. I am greedy and not willing to share it with anyone else.

For some moments, I stand still, absorbing the beauty of the seascape, trying to see beyond the horizon and to scoop out a bit of the crimson glory out of the sun on my fingertip. I give up a little later and turn to walk aimlessly along the sea.

As I walk, I can hear in my head the melody of a song, the rhythm of an Iktara. I smile and hum it slowly under my breath, letting the breeze carry my voice over the waves. Almost like a message in a bottle. Maybe it would reach some distant shores and an answering song would come dancing. Pure fantasy, some may say. But who decides what is real and what is fanciful.

Coming across a partially embedded conch shell, I stoop and dig it out, even as the mischievous waves attempt to steal it out of my gritty fingers. I finally hold it in my palm and let out a small whoop of joy. A little further on, I see a crab scuttling towards me. I take a frightened step back, only to realize that it does not seek to bite me. It only seeks to go to its hiding hole, close to my feet. I shake my head at my own fear and decide to continue.

There is a lighthouse that I can see in the distance. It does not look too far. But I know that that could simply be the result of optical illusion. It does not matter, though. I have this evening and the night to come. All of it my own. For the first time. And who knows it may be the last.

I shall not turn back, I resolve. And continue my not-quite-aimless meander towards that beacon, as the evening began to gather the last vestiges of twilight in her arms, to make way for my favourite silver Enchantress.

And Iktara continues to play, silently, ceaselessly.....
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