My first memory of the sea is not of the tangy air hitting my face. It isn’t about the rolling waves lashing at the sandy shores either.
My first view of the sea was aerial, from high up in the sky as we flew to a different country to join my father.
It looked like a shimmering, silky blue bedspread, that was never ending.
At that time, the latter part of the 1970s, the Gulf countries had no malls or parks and so almost all our outings and picnics, on weekends were to the seaside.
And each beach seemed unique and pretty in its own way…Some are remembered for its rocks and caves and some for its pebbles and exquisitely beautiful shells.
But the sea was always a welcoming sight.
Much later, when we came back to Kerala, we once went to see the sea at Kanyakumari, the southern tip of the peninsular, known for its beautiful sunsets, where the three oceans meet.
We waited with bated breath, to see the sun going down in the western sky. But just as it did, to our utter disappointment, the sky turned dark, as a villainous cloud enveloped the setting sun. And there began my love-hate relationship with the ocean.
Over the years, the sea to me has been cruel and scary. Cruel because it first separated me as a child, for years,
from my parents, and then from my husband and later on from my daughter.
But it turned scary when in 2004, it threatened to take the lives of our dear ones in the form of a Tsunami.
Later on, when on an island, with an area below five square kilometres, in the Maldives, my heart has raced with love, waking up to see the magnificent blue seas touching the clear skies.
But I have stood on its shores, many a times, with a heavy heart too, hating the sea, as my eyes scanned the vast expanse, wondering when I could cross it to see my daughter, in Kerala.
As time passes, we forgive and forget.
The sea, it’s depth, it’s vast expanses, its beautiful colours…the shades of aquamarine, emerald, and prussian blue, laced by white foamy waves are amazing. But above all, its mysteriousness, like the intensity in the wet, ruddy eyes of a lover,
never fails to lure me and make me long for it.
After the lockdown, and when these stressing times are over, I will end my truce with the sea and go one day, to gaze at the ocean, to feel the wind in my hair and the waves at my feet, welcoming me back.
But till then, I’ll be content with these collectibles and my painting,that’s still wet.😊
Anne cyriac
