There’s seawater and blood in my veins. I think I’d like that very much even if it were true and for the most part, I’d like to believe it is. Born and brought up near the eastern and western coasts of India, the sea has been more than just a salty water body with immense strength and untiring ways. Growing up with it, I never expressed the pure love I hold for it until I went away to study in a landlocked city.
The sea was my escape from a world that got too hard to handle at times, it was my strength when I thought of giving up , it was the monotony that slowed down the endless changes. As a writer , I thought I’d never write about anything more than once and yet each time I sit on the sand, my back facing the world, plateaued for a few minutes, I cannot but feel the urge to capture the waves that rush all the way from the horizon.
I understand the sea to be a reverie of sorts, the endlessness never breaking into the reality of this world.The unchanging nature – allowing me to believe that even as change is the inevitable future of life – there shall always be a constant to come back to , I’ll find it right at the edge of a concluding realm.
We all need a point of reference in life , something that keeps us down , an infinity that shall stay inspite of the mortality of everything else , a link that keeps us connected to ourselves . The salt water is that and more for me.