the sea and the beach

what is it with water bodies and me? is it because of 21 years in chennai, 1 in cuddalore, 2 in calcutta and the balance 8 in bombay...
geographical proximity to large masses of water has been a reality of my existence.
guess it all came to be during the year in cuddalore (1995-96). gosh, has been more than a decade now. wow.
marisusai nagar, cuddalore - 1 was my address, just 1.5 km from the sea, and what a beach, the best i have ever experienced. Sunday mornings, me in infinite embrace of pure nature.
felt alive and meaningless at same time. the pulsating throb and rhythm of the waves had me hypnotised and i am a lifelong disciple of mother sea.
immersed for years into routine, the nearness let me be casusal in my relationship with mom.
then out of the blue, dec 2004 happened. felt like i was being summoned to appear in front of the grand jury. mom was calling her truant son. in the process tearing many lives asunder.
late night in feb 05, standing on the akkarapettai beach, nagapattinam facing what was a seeting ferocious eruption of waves. cowering in a corner in fear like a little boy who breaks a bottle trying to sneak a candy. an angry mom bearing down on her son's misdemeanour.
through the next months, i paid silent penance to my extended absence, visiting mum's different abodes and avtaars. each one beautiful and comforting in their own way.
mum - how many children you have. how much they all love you (....and fear you also:-)). more than i could ever do. you need to watch your temper here on...
April 2, 2006 in goa, reach to another much vaunted avtaar of mum's. like a parched traveller tumbling towards an oasis.
god almighty, what are you spewing out...yuck, black death, the beach appears like an enormous blue/white saree with a hideous balck embroidery. it is either an oil slick or iron ore floccs. runs across the entire stretch of more than 3 km i walk....walk in rage, an empty rage like a caged tiger, no purpose, dies within me.
i leave silently, carry your memories back home, specks of your golden sand still stuck in my sandals. you left them like micro magnets to get me back. like all mothers do :-)