It’s a pity I take so much for granted, and yet, the thought of ever having to live in a city without the view of the sea is petrifying; almost claustrophobic. How do I get about my days without throwing casual glances at you? *insert rhetorical eye roll*
It’s always been there in the background. I spent 14 years in a school facing the sea, and more years after that somehow hitching a ride by the marine drive almost every day. It is a familiar heart tug; not something I go looking for, but I know will always be there.
There is something endearing about watching the vast, growling sea and knowing it has no end; it roars and roars and comes around. Imagine Pangea? You’d have to literally go to the edge of the earth to catch a glimpse of the sea. Now, the sea burst forth in pockets, nudges the continents away, and somehow makes sure its presence is felt. Its presence IS felt.
I made the silly mistake of spending a day at the Hikkaduwa beach during the April Avurudu holidays. It was sweltering hot, I could feel myself melting (evaporating?). The usual beachside repose evaded me, it was impossible to sit out by the sea without feeling engulfed by the heat. The Hikkaduwa sea was a fire breathing dragon, heaving and sighing. It put me off beach trips for a while; that is until Mirissa happened two months after.
A shock of brilliantly coloured boats were anchored at the brink of the tranquil, turquoise Mirissa Bay. It sufficed to just sit up the elevated deck and watch the sea. Little waves licked the shore, gently lullabying the fisher boats; they bobbed and bobbed like happy children.
Wading into the waters of Mirissa was blissful. There were no large waves, and the current seemed to have a mind of its own. It played friendly games with waders; pulling and pushing them in opposite directions. With each tide, the temperature seemed to change. Ticklish, chilly waves when the waters gushed from the left, and tepid trellises caressed from the right. It was an almost full moon day, the sun had long set and the stars had taken over. Scorpio had drawn itself in all its glory, and Venus was shining bright: a beautifully lit night sky.
It was easy to fall in love with Mirissa that night. Mirissa rekindled a dwindling love for the sea; a love that is always there, but seldom felt so intensely.
Give me a king coconut, let me sit by your shores and write you an ode. Let me tell you how much I missed you.