The Beach

Slats of sunlight, swaying as the palm fronds they filtered through, creating a dream-like quality in a very real world. Juhu was crowded even at seven in the morning?. with the all the regular suspects occupying their regular places??.

The mandatory tourist family frolicking in the toxic sea waters, while the regular Mumbaikars gazed sagely from their perches well away from the waves, the beggars harassing the Firang couple with expensive cameras? the enterprising chai-wallas with their makeshift kiosks, the health-freaks furiously pacing the length of the beach, having just alighted from their chauffeur driven cars, impatient to finish of their mandatory stretch and zoom off again in the Mumbai traffic?.

We took off our shoes and walked in the sand? and joined the legions of a million others who believe they invented companionship. The waves lapped at our feet, and for some moments we refuse to imagine that they carried anything other than sea-water!!

It felt good though, the breeze from the Arabian Sea offsets the damp humidity Mumbai builds around you. The wet sand feels cool as you trudge your way through?. And a cup of milky sweet tea once you get tired of walking, heavenly.

Early in the morning, Mumbai, with all its maze of local trains and swarms of people? seems to be so far removed from that glistening beach. We left a bit early, before the Juhu Beach market could rouse itself from its slumber and the cries of the Pav-bhaji vendors shattered the morning peace?.. Carrying with us, the memory of a solitary moment stolen from a crowded metropolis…


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