Know not where it was born
It slips a silence into me quietly….
It carries, in its shrine, many
instruments of music, orchestrating all of them
she begins as an outburst of thousand drums
but collapses on the shore as self-tuning Sitar
I listen to the quiet Sea and its musings
They match with mine!
always wonder why no two waves are same
I get no answer except for their ebbing
Hinting that no two tribulations are same!
I endeavor to run behind her trailing frills
Attempt to untangle the mystery
But return with a blue smile
Am I all alone by myself?
Suddenly I see a small wave around my feet
As if to console me!
She has been a partner in my soliloquy
Mixing black and white emotions wisely
I bear the music in my heart of hearts
She hugs me with all of her snowy smile
She is always in me
My sea….my dear Sea!
( Vizag beach has always been a spring of nostalgia – very many memoirs, haunting reminiscences; the songs from the waves drench me while the droplets soak me in affection)