The Ocean is a beautiful thing...

The ocean is a beautiful thing. Last night, we spoke for a long time. She’s beautiful, in a delicate yet strong way. She’s vast, and she doesn’t discriminate. She takes everyone in, just the same. Last night, I had a long talk with her. I spoke, while she listened. The ebb and flow of the water like the rhythmic breaths of a slumbering gentle giant deep within. She listened, with a rapt attention, and every breath of her, every sigh under the moonlight; it all gave me immeasurable amounts of peace in my heart. The water is the same, anywhere I go, right? The Ganga flowing from Haridwar meets the Yamuna that flows through Delhi; they flow together beyond Allahabad, into the Bay of Bengal, and the Bay of Bengal flows into the Indian Ocean, where the Arabian Sea meets her too. So, maybe, that sighing breathing gentle giant from last night recognized from that time that I spent beside the Ganga at Haridwar, the time I spent with that warm stream in Garampaani, the many times I’ve crossed the Yamuna over the span of two years. I know she knew me well; she recognized me.

She told me some stories, in a different language. The words were alien to me, but the story was not. I understood the story, and could see the part that I was playing in it too; amongst the many others out here, living, just like me. She wants me to stay, the thought made a smile play at her lips. I like her a lot, but even then, I somehow couldn’t stop thinking about the other familiar body of water for me; the one who flows through my home, the one who I saw so regularly for the last two years – The Yamuna. I like the ocean a lot, but I know that one day, I will return home. I will return to The Yamuna, someday.

Someday.

Had written this a long time ago, but the absence of the internet at that point of time had this slip out of my mind. Found it again while I was browsing through some old things I had written, and thought it would make a bit of sense if I wrote this out here as well.