Evening

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My friend and I were at the Barista at Bandstand the other evening. It was around 8 o’clock. We had just about managed to book bus tickets to a place and were broke. So broke that we had no business deliberating over vertiginously layered concoctions of chocolate and cream. But there is something about a dense, monsoon night by the sea that makes you feel rich. Lush. Giddy with the prospect of abundance.


My friend ordered a chicken puff and a cappuccino. I got myself a cup of ginger honey and a banana muffin. We munched our food quietly, watching little frills of foam kissing the rocks. Slowly, two big jigsaw pieces of clouds shifted apart and a tiny star shone through. It looked like a sweet little starfish that had gotten washed up in some celestial shore. It twinkled up there, alone and afraid. Then there was a strong gust of wind. Another large plank of cloud slowly moved in and covered the pretty, shivering starfish.

Sometimes, I think, no matter what it is, everything is the sea.

Comments

suparna said…
everything IS the sea, i so so agree!
5:27 PM
i-me-myself said…
Man..you're so right..so so right..feelings we suppress, creativity we suppress, a child's exploratory instincts we suppress in the name of discipline, this is what struck me from what you wrote. And that's what i like about your writing- its chiffonesque and you let us perceive/interpret what we want to
4:31 PM
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