I always thought I was a man of the mountains.
Whether be it the evergreen hills or frost-covered peaks, I have always thought that peace hid behind the misty isles, and only there lay my one true solace. I was never a fan of the sea, and the waves never called on me like a drunkard sailor. I had my fair share of visiting beaches and sitting under the sun. but never once did she call on me as mountains did, and at one point, I began to think maybe the sea and I were never meant to be. Nature doesn’t always embrace you when you walk over it seems. Sometimes she shields herself, and I thought that it was my turn to watch her hide herself away.
How utterly wrong I was…
It felt as if sensing my distress, the sea took it upon herself to show me my misconceptions. With the help of time and tide, she made me stand in front of her mighty waves once more, and this time around, instead of shying away, she sang; and mesmerised, I listened.
I don’t think I will ever forget the moment my feet touched the sand that time around. After a whole night of sleepless travelling, I didn’t expect her warm sand to send chills down my spine, and I remember just standing like a dumbstruck fool, trying to make sense of the feeling, thinking that it was due to my sleep-deprived brain.
She was so beautiful, you know? I couldn’t stop staring at her, even though the sun above me tried to burn my eyes.
So my days with the sea began, and I found myself walking along the shore at any given time of the day. It was maddening, how much I was pulled towards her, getting drunk on the sounds of her waves as if it was my first time tasting the saltwater breeze.
I don’t think I can explain it any better than this. Most of us can easily write poetries about the vast ocean and how she made us feel small. I too, felt the same when I stood in front of her while the sun sat every evening. But she also took my hand when my eyes began to sting at the realisation every time, and told me that sometimes it was okay to feel insignificant and powerless, lost and utterly alone, because it was those very thoughts that made us who we were; human.
I remember falling into a warm pair of arms and sobbing like a baby on my last evening there. I just couldn’t hold back the tears. It was laced with unwanted goodbyes and unhidden fear that this might be the last time I ever felt that way.
But I was wrong about that too.
Because even now, when I close my eyes, I can hear her sing to me while sand touches my bare feet. It fills me with an overbearing amount of nostalgia, and I find myself yearning to rush back to her. The sea, in a way, made me heal that time around. I, who thought mountains would be the answer to my long-lost sense of belonging, found it instead on the shores of long beaches lined with golden sands.
I think I’m still there sometimes. A part of me still walks the empty shores every evening.
Looking for answers.
Looking for peace.
And finding them hiding in her ever-present waves.
