Early morning, the moon has not yet returned to its abode…rendering everything silver…reminiscent of Walter De La Mare’s “Slowly, silently now the moon, walks the night in her silver shoon…” The sand, the waves…all silver, as though the whole world was painted only one color by the greatest artist of them all.

Hordes of health conscious people, some walking briskly, some a little slow, some exercising, some meditating. Young boys and girls playing…cricket and football.  Fishermen preparing…to earn their livelihood. Loading their nets on to the boats. Praying to the sea god to be kind today, for they have many mouths to feed.

The sun rises, gradually, not visible here, but its effect is felt soon enough, when the sunlight is blinding to the eye, the heat is unbearable.

Now, the day is wearing off, the mighty sun is now a mere orange ball, tired after shining all day.

A teeming mass of humanity. Myriad smells assail your nostrils. The cool breeze is refreshing, revitalizing, invigorating, and the constant hullabaloo deafening.

Freshly roasted bhutta. Chana jor garam, sing dana and chana for Rs. 2 per cone from the chana seller. Pink candy floss, whirring out of the machine, wound onto sticks. Bhelpuri, sevpuri, panipuri. Packets of popcorn.

Children building sand mountains and castles, playing with their beach sets, shoveling sand into buckets, overturning them…a budding architect or two amongst them. Balloon sellers…and a tiny tot, tugging at her mother’s sari pallu, exhorting her to buy her a red colored monkey shaped balloon. A father shows his child an airplane soaring far above them, in the azure sky.

Families spending a holiday evening, a break from routine, travails and worries of day-to-day life forgotten for the moment, dressed in their finery. Frolicking on the beach, a family here, a group of friends there. Salwars and trousers folded up to the knees. Young lady, conscious of getting wet, being pulled into the salty water by her relatives. Children, unmindful however,of wet clothes, meeting the sea with open arms. Little kids, blissfully unaware of the vastness of the sea with which they flirt so easily. Standing up, now falling, giggling and laughing. feeling the salty spray on their faces, the rough sand on their feet.

Couples, oblivious to all, searching for privacy in the midst of the throngs of humans, whispering sweet nothings.

They are back again, the breed of walkers, joggers and exercisers…only the faces are different this time. Yoga aficionados, practising pranayama, now performing the asanas, unmindful of the noise and people, as though they were in the quiet environs of their own homes.    

A boat or two on the horizon, making the long journey home, with the generous gift that the benevolent sea has provided them.