Yes, this is the one where I spent my last night.
My view is very much restricted. To be able to see some more, I need to muster courage and walk towards it, and then I can see the next restricted view unfold.
Birds have given up on laziness and are chirping while they work. They are chirping somewhere but nowhere to be seen. Insects are not behind, and they are competing the birds with the continuous buzzing in the bushes engulfed in the mist.
Trees sway intermittently, as the wind gushes through. And an ambience of drizzle is created by the trees.
Yarn ends in my cloth have been embraced by the fog too, and their lingering love is so enticing that my brisk walking has no effect on them.
As I walk some more, I hear the waves from the sea. There is a sea nearby, but everything is dissolved in the fog.
Only voices from waves I can hear, and my feet are moving obediently towards those voices.
My moving feet stands still as they touch the salty water, intensely cold, moving forward to brush my feet and retracing back.
My eyes which have moistened quickly from the cold, witness a new friend. Very shy and in a hurry to go away after greeting me. But how could I let him leave without his photograph?
This whole ambience is at rent. You come, you stay, and then you pack your bags and leave. It's time for me to leave.
Because neither my monetary affordability allows it, nor allows my workplace, to stay here any longer.
I need to get back to work and face the reality once again.
PS: This is a short tale of my experience at Sana Beach and Resort, Mandarmani, during early cold weeks of February.
