Epiphany by the beachside

Was at Goa, so thought of completing the trip by indulging in a clichéd jog cum breakfast gig to Miramar,a revered beach there. Did a few stretches, ogled at a few goan chicks busy in their selfie spree before stepping  into the water with my playlist playing “Jingunamani” from Jilla last.

 I stationed my feet at a point where the boisterous waves were ranging upto knee level, from where the subconscious extension took over the onus of enslaving my sensory organs in all their opulence from my conscious persona without  prior notice. Also around this time, was a miserly visible incoming ferry teasing on my viewing perimeter.

The water accentuated by waves  suddenly seemed to have developed a personality of its own with mentoring abilities. what with regular objects and happenings turning into ponderous  metaphors and transferred epithets. My playlist started displaying artificial intelligence by playing “Maula Maula” from Delhi-6 as a mark of my state of bewilderment. Weird morning with every inanimate thing around indulging in soul-searching.

At that moment my predicament could be compared to that of a blind man stationed outside a palace eternally, who had got his vision back on his first step into it. The things I saw and felt were in the commonplace domain, but they seemed to have transcended beyond my epidermal level, to touch my Soul.

The same water that I’ve drunk to satiate my thirst, who’s temperature I've regulated in trivial pursuits and used at the deliverable end of my nature’s call on a day-to-day basis, felt like the Creator’s silk touch.

The cyclic waves caressing the feet firmly buried in wet mud  bringing along with it-shells,snails, conches,coins, artifacts with every iteration reminded me of the permanence of one’s personality with every other facet,manifestation and relationship undergoing a constant change along with the efflux of time, punctuated by a memory oscillating back and forth.

The initial raucous caused by rumbling of the waves, fine tuned into the virgin territory of the conscience, commonly flattered as a state of bliss.

I was enveloped in the warmth of the Sun’s untiring patronage.Its rays that stung initially, ended up gratifying akin to hickeys. I could visualise minute golden particles descend from the Sky, to dissolve into every pore of my body like from the palm end of Midas to his touched.

Maybe it wasn’t the Sun I was squinting at after all, but the powerful eye of the Creator himself. Wait, Am I singing peons in flattery of the almighty on the shores of the most materialistic of places.Well so long to being an agnostic in "about me" segments in social media,Goa does make you do things that you would not even dream of otherwise.

Meanwhile, the once scantly visible ferry was starting to appear in the viewing vicinity, metaphorical of my realisation I suppose. I found myself weeping profusely, inundated with gratitude and self-ridicule synchronously as the 8.00 minute something “Maula Maula” drew to an end marking the conclusion of the brief trance.

The waves,sky and the Sun continued to remain, but their soliloquies seemed to have ended with them appearing rightfully inanimate again like the blurred visuals of a 3D movie without the glasses.