“ I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred silent ways’’

Rumi

 

Karthigeya ‘s invitation excited me like a baby elephant who got a chance to play in a water puddle. I followed him towards the boat resting on the beach. He was a few inches taller than me and his lean and muscular figure spoke of a healthy lifestyle with sincere workouts. His wheatish complexion was tanned by the beach sun. He neither looked like a native islander nor a carefree tourist! He was radiating inner peace and cool confidence. I loved the long imprints made by his feet on the wet sand.

Safety jackets, fishing lines, and two sets of oars were kept inside the boat. He carefully fastened the jacket over my sarong and beachwear and got ready to wear his jacket. We pulled the boat towards the sea,

 He sat at the bow and started rowing. I gripped my oars and synched and followed his movements. Two people in sync are the beauty of any journey. I smiled feeling the peace and strength within.

A peaceful companion is a must for any journey after all the journey is not just about the destination. It is everything in between.

We left the comfort zone of the shore now and our small boat was carrying us toward the sand island which is now getting closer and clearer in view.

‘’ We are going to experience the beauty’’.

‘’ What a coincidence. I was roaming around the beach marking beautiful spots so that I can come back with my camera and capture them ‘’

‘’ Hmm,   Capturing the beauty needs expertise but experiencing beauty needs training !’’

‘’What is the difference ?’’

‘’To experience the beauty we need to train our minions of the mind ‘’ He laughed aloud.

I smiled.I was experiencing awe, excitement, and confusion at the same time.

A wave rose and fell splashing droplets.  I tasted salt. Our boat frolicked in the waves.   The sea couldn’t suppress a   mysterious deep sigh. We inhaled a salty breeze.

 

 Whenever I traveled, I kept my eyes open to capture fleeting glimpses of beauty that surrounded me.

 Beautiful green paddy fields, long stretches of farms laden with tiny yellow mustard blossoms, clouds drifting above the hilltops, small purple flowers near the rivulets on the rocky slopes,  the farmer herding his flock of sheep back home in the evening, wearing soiled dhoti and kurta and colorful headgear.

The delicious smoke floating from small mud huts gave hints of jowar rotis baking in a wood fire.  

The orange sunrises and deeply hued sunsets, the list is endless.

These beauties made me scream,

 ‘’ Stop, stop the car. Let’s stop here for a moment. Let me take out my camera. Let me capture this moment ‘’

But my screams were silent!

 Hari could read my thoughts. It made him uneasy.  He was a man who made strict itineraries and followed them even more strictly. These never included hand-holding or sky gazing. I observed even our driver revving up the accelerator sensing his boss’s mood.

Yeah, silences are the loudest even though most can’t hear them!

To be continued…