The sea stretches as far as the horizon. There are small fishing boats lined across the shore in front of Casa Meena – the blue and white Portuguese style villa whose first-floor balcony gives me the perfect spot to stalk the night sea. I think the sea pretends. Subtle and demure throughout the day, maybe even playful; and yet at around 3 A.M when I look at her, she is twisted in turmoil. With every wave, she tries to break free, to be truly unrestricted but the currents keep her fierce and unsettled.

And when I look up, I see a cloud wrapped sky extending to touch the sea at the horizon. I’ve been longing for a starry sky. All this one gives me is a full moon to write under and to watch fishermen preparing their boats and oars. The only company I have is Venus. It does disappoint me a bit. There is so much that I wish for. Through a window among the clouds, I get a peek of Orion’s belt and a few accompanying stars. I see in them a promise.

Even though its cloudy and confusing, there is a bright and alluring sky beyond which perhaps is its true nature and thus so much more beautiful. The clouds shall settle soon, and the sky shall speak like the sea. Together the three of us shall meet at the horizon, sharing stories of how tiring the turmoil is and yet we wouldn’t be us without it. Dreams, hopes and passions entwined unto it.

Written: September 2022 at Casa Meena, Pondicherry