Reliving Childhood Memories

Chennai is a place that holds a special place in my heart and Marina Beach is my favorite of what I remember of my childhood here. En route to the railway station we halted at Marina beach to spend some time there.

            Though it was almost midday, the cloudy sky gave altogether a different feeling. As I stood there in front of those splashing waves, I became reminiscent of my childhood days. I was about five or six years old when I had first come to Chennai, then known as Madras. Even after seventeen years I still remember the street, where I used to live very distinctly. There was a huge temple complex characterized by the Dravidian style shikar and a big stepped water tank. (This a regular feature of a South Indian Hindu Temple.)The sea was about half a kilometer away from our house and I used to spend my most evenings on the terrace, playing as the sun seemed to sink in the sea.

Those were the days of fun, laughter and play. My mind was oblivious to the world I was to step in. How I wish that innocence comes back. I was so secure and everything was so familiar in that small world of mine, when all my troubles could just vanish by running to my mother. How happy I felt to be in my father's arms as he lifted me up towards the sky. Though I can't go back, these are my forever cherished sweet memories.

Coming back to the present, standing on the very shores of the beach where I first came to know the sea, the place where I built my first sand castle, had my first horse ride, collected my first sea-shells, and where I overcame the fear of waves; gave me an inexpressible feeling of satisfaction.

Another thing that fascinated me was that I had spent a considerable portion of my childhood along the Bay of Bengal. First, it was in Chennai and then Vishakhapatnam (a port city). Later on I lived in Calcutta (Kolkata), which is strictly speaking not on the coast but is not far off. That's why I suppose I have developed a certain kind of bond with the Bay of Bengal. Its violent grey water has always emitted a certain kind of warmth for me. Though its been infamous for churning out many dangerous storms and cyclones, I could relate to its various moods.

As I stood there, the sea propelled high furious waves threatening to demolish everything that comes in its way. The grey water of the sea reflected the stormy clouds in the sky. A storm warning as been sounded and most of the fishermen's boats stood on the coast, though a few were seen braving the storm. And there I felt at home standing, waiting for the waves to wash my feet. After all I grew up along the sea. A strange nostalgia shrouded me and made me reluctant to leave.

My destination was calling and I had to move on.