Recently I visited Goa. Its not that I hadn’t been to a beach before, but this time I noticed something.I was strolling along the beach one evening. We were 8 in all, but deep down I was unaccompanied. Moving towards the sea, I stopped just where the waves ended in a fatal attempt to reach the shore. With every wave I felt it trying coming to me, but somehow the effort was not hard enough. It came nearer and nearer and after some attempts, died altogether. Then again gathered courage and started its journey towards the unachievable. The moon/sun gravity pulls helping sometime while other time discouraging. I couldn’t bear the brunt anymore and so thought of moving, just to touch the dying wave. The calmness it offered me was enough an indication how content we felt in each other’s arms. We were happy cuddling each other, when something played spoilsport, either the gravity pull or the other waves. I beleive it was the other waves. The water started to recede and move away from me at an unimaginable speed. Before I could do something, it had left me. I had nothing but feet deep inside the sand. When I moved back, I could see the footprints. The more effort I had put to keep the wave stay longer, the deeper were the impressions. I knew only a new wave can fill the void, but I guess it was time for a low tide. The shore was left with impressions of my feet on the wet sand. What I had was only the moistness. I made up my mind, never again to put my feet in those lurking waves. I walked along the shore, maintaining enough distance. As I walked over the sand, footprints were left behind. The waves sometime were just able to touch them after I had moved ahead.
There is no fear of loosing now. The sand is all marked with my footprints, some touching the waves while others far away. I no longer dread the embedded marks with moistness. I no longer want that togetherness. I no longer try moving close to the waves.
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