At Govind Nagar Beach


It’s a worthless beach,
they said -

Full of rocks, not good to swim,

But everything is close by in the isle

Go to Radhanagar,

Now, that one beach is a lovely dream

 

But they do not know our baseline,

We - who are not used to the coral sand,

Who are we to judge the shore

Shimmering mica, strewn about

All around, Havelock Island

 

At the pale-white beach, I sat then

For hours at dawn, at noon, twilight

Mesmerised by the banded layers

Of the turquoise sea, and pale the sands

In yellow-white

 

At the pale-white beach, I wrote my lines

Under the shade of the mahua tree;

Shimmering palms, solitude

And hermit crabs and green geckos

The nearest souls for company

 

At the pale-white beach, I drank the dusk

All on my own, no tourist throng,

I inhaled with the rising sun, at dawn

As the fishermen cast their nets and sang

Their lonesome mourning morning song

 

At the pale-white beach, I dipped my toes

Low the tide, in watery gin,

I swam about when the tide was high

And all the trolled rocks hiding there

In cerulean blues, all unseen

 

At the pale-white beach, if I dreamt harder

Perhaps I could even get a glimpse of Him,

But it’s a worthless beach, they would always say –

Theres not a lot that you can do

Its full of rocks, not good to swim…

 

02nd March, 2024

 

At Havelock, the laurels always go to Radhanagar beach (it is not considered the best beach in India for nothing). My stay on the Govind Nagar Beach on the other end of the island, was supposed to be relaxing but not exactly scenic – it fared very lowly in the pecking order. Yet, on the contrary, I had the most relaxing time on the island on that beach – without the tourist mobs descending on designated times to drown in the sunset or wake at sunrise, I found a greater repose at Govind Nagar – spending hours on the beach, I could almost hear the earth breathe through the silky sands, the water lap in somnolence, while I would nearly melt and merge with the shimmering specks of mica on the beach.

To each his own. As of the rocks, yes the beach was sprinkled with them, but when the tide came, there was no escape, no distinction, no encumbrances. All that was left was a sparkling blue sheet of water, proclaiming an absolute state of uninterruptedness – one ocean, one God, one pilgrim, one poet…

 

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