Day1:
The only reason I wanted to take time off was to meet him. Other than that I was fine. Having a good time actually. Reporting suits me. Atleast right now at the outset it seems to. My boss is happy with my stories. In fact wants me to do more. Help others with theirs. The only reason I wanted to take time off was to meet him.

So what am I doing here? Sitting in a hotel room on beach that's lovely mind you, but hasn't yet captured my attention. I dunno. Somewhere inside me my mind's on something else. Not on him, not on me, not on us, but the lack of us. Is it time to sing the song I ask. In answer my heart sighs, my mind still empty.


Day2:
I decided I wasn't going to allow melancholy to ruin my day. So I got up with a mission: to skinny dip in the arabian sea. Got out my new blue towel. Draped my blue batique sarong. I dunno why the chosen colour was blue but I guess it sort of suited the mood. I walked out onto the beach a bit past nine. I was sure I would have to walk around looking for a spot away from the 'folks' who descend on this piece sand. The 'gharguti jevan' types if you know what I mean. For whom (men) the idea of fun is getting drunk on bottles of beer or old monk rum. For their women the idea of 'maja' would be a movie on the weekend with the husband and the kids or a dinner party at a friend's place where the husband proceeds to get drunk and the wife finds out all the gossip on those there and those who missed it. If you still don't get the idea well hear this: I was getting some breakfast clad in a buddha print sarong and a white tee. The table next to me has this family of five. Father-in-law, mother-in-law, son, daughter-in-law and child gulping down pooha and chaha. I can hear the old lady commenting on what I'm wearing. How these foreigners have no respect for Indian ways. And how Indians when they live abroad get corrupted. How the way dress lends itself to corruption god only knows and I didn't bother asking. Coz even as I was trying to tune her out the waiter slowly approaches me and asks me which country I was from. Coz 'our peoples don't wear this you know. We wear white dhotar (dhoti)' the younger woman tells me. I had half a mind of telling her what I thought about their men and their tastes but decided why waste my breathe anyway I had a mission.



O well. So here I am on piece of virgin white sand, quite unlike me. There I said it before you did! I turn around and look, squint actually it was still early but the sun had decided to look and feel otherwise. Not a soul in sight except outside the temple. There they seemed to spewing out of the temple like termites from rotting wood, swarming all over the sand. Don't get me wrong I have nothing against people having a good time. But if that means leaving pepsi bottles, wafer packets, coconuts and flowers strewn around like garbage then I have a problem with that.

Anyway before my rant took over, I decided to walk as far as I could. Not just coz I wanted to get away from the folks but more because I had something else on my mind.

There is this one spot along the shore where sea goes inland and turns into a river. Except this one's flowing inland. At low tide it turns into a little pool and that's where I was headed for.



The water was clear and still cool from the previous night. I looked around. Not a soul in sight. This was probably better then I asked for. Coz I had decided to put the mostly empty beach to good use and do what I had never done before: skinny-dip The creatures in sight were as tiny as ants. My only witnesses those small white crabs that burrow all the way down the western coast. But you know what? I realised that the act of stripping in public wasn't as easy as Salman made it out to be. But then if I was anywhere close to being Salmanisque or hell even Salma Hayek-isque I probably wouldn't care about being seen. But with my newly acquired pounds of flesh that show no signs of going, I wasn't taking any chances. Any outrage my nudity could cause is so secondary.

So ever so cautiously I take off my shirt, fold them up and put them on my slippers. Didn’t want any sand on them. Have heard too many stories of sand getting into the wrong places. But then I was going commando so...

The rest came off slowly and I just stood there letting the wind whip around me. Somehow felt so liberating. It prodded me on to enter the water. As it took my first step my feet sank into the sand and the sudden coolness of the water just took my breath away. For a second it felt like I had stepped into quicksand. And all those stories of people being sucked into the sand just flashed past me. But only for a second since my feet hit hard soil and I managed to balance myself. Then on I just dived in. The water: my second skin, the surf: acessories that changed shape and form. I floated around staring at the sky for a bit. The crows, ravens actually winging about as though in the wait for something to emerge from the sea. They would land just out of the sea's reach and wait there. Ocassionally hopping around but mostly waiting. Looking out into the sea. Waiting.



I just floated around. Ten minutes in, somehow the restlessness came right back. I got thinking thoughts that I had been hoping to avoid but they washed in anyway. Where was my life headed on the personal front. The big 3-0 is dawning soon and where am I at, where am I headed? I'm not like one those people who freak out thinking they are going to turn 30. OMG! from here on life's all down hill. Hell no! On the contrary I think its the pillar post that marks the real beginging of life. For the first 15 you're still growing up. The next you're trying to find your way in the world. Trying to get an educate, figuring out what it is that you want to do and figuring out how to do it. By about 30 if you're lucky you're ready to enjoy the fruits of that labour. And I am so ready.

I waded out of the water. Used the clearer top half to return the sand off my arms and legs back to sea. Then sat on my slippers still in all my naked glory and watched the sea for a bit. Sometimes not brooding on something brings greater clarity. I decided not to wet the towel and let the wind and the sun do job. Just spreadeagled on the sand with my sarong under me and slept.



I woke up with a clear mind. I decided I needed a life. If the love of my life didn't want me well, I would just have to find another one.