The same beach, the same wavy waters that knocked me down two weeks earlier welcomed me with an unknown affection this time. An affection that rises out of familiarity, an affection that ebbs out of understanding. Waves lashing me knee depth, i stood gazing the eastern sky weeping hues of bluish-orange for the west setting sun.
My thoughts rolled back two weeks to when Bengal sea at Eliott's beach took me by surprise. Already the water had flooded till below my knee cap that a new wave formed right in front of me knocking me down. A fraction of second before I was standing firm on the sand enjoying the salty gale, a fraction later my fingers were grappling the sea sand to resist the receding wave. I stood up and found that Uma had also fell right next to me and that she had gobbled sea water out of exasperation.
I gathered my thoughts and rolled back into the present hearing to three school girls who were enjoying the caressing sea waves by laughing their guts out. After all nothing is permanent . . .
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