The seaside in Puri was sublime – an endless, clean stretch of sand as far as the eye could see in both directions. We had been told earlier to be careful when ocean swimming – the water was deceptively rough in this part of India. Of course, every little part of the country has its own local guru – and sure enough we were guided into the ocean by the friendly hotel nunya Ramu. It was clear that he had spent many years quiet and in thought on the beaches of Puri, helping people experience the healing qualities of the ocean. After we spent some time walking in the shallows, Ramu brought over three tubes for us and we took the plunge. We all locked arms and the nunya took us out into the sea.
The salt water splashed our faces and stung our eyes, and we laughed as the currents threw us off balance. After some time we came back to shore and just chilled. Kayd and I sat on the beach for a while and Arny rediscovered his role as Lord of the Sea, swimming far offshore amongst the powerful currents. Tiny sand crabs were everywhere, and hilarious crows hopped around the shoreline looking for bits to eat. I told Ramu we’d be back in the morning and that we’d tip him then. Unlike most people in India, he didn’t seem concerned with money, and politely told us that’s fine – whatever works.
The salt water splashed our faces and stung our eyes, and we laughed as the currents threw us off balance. After some time we came back to shore and just chilled. Kayd and I sat on the beach for a while and Arny rediscovered his role as Lord of the Sea, swimming far offshore amongst the powerful currents. Tiny sand crabs were everywhere, and hilarious crows hopped around the shoreline looking for bits to eat. I told Ramu we’d be back in the morning and that we’d tip him then. Unlike most people in India, he didn’t seem concerned with money, and politely told us that’s fine – whatever works.
The next morning we were all up by 6:00 and ready to make another trip into the ocean. At first Thampu was hesitant, but I insisted that she come along. “I guess I should, it would be a great shame to come all this way and not feel the ocean,” she said in Bengali, getting up out of bed, excited and eager. For a while we just sat on the beach and watched the sunrise, brushing off some local hustlers who were trying to sell us cheap goods for a quick profit, undoubtedly expecting us to ignorantly pay. Finally we once again were guided by Ramu into the water, and Thampu looked renewed as the warm water and sand flowed over her feet. After some more swimming and some unexpected encounters with camels, it was time to go in. The ocean had indeed been an enlightening experience for all of us.
Jay Jagganath,
Abhrajeet
nunya – Bengali for lifeguard
you've got a way with words, mon. i wonder where you got that from... ;-)
ReplyDeletekeep the good stories coming. i love reading them