The ocean

The Indian Ocean was roaring. On this desolate beach, there was total solitude. It was time for the night to settle in. The sun had disappeared behind the dark clouds, leaving only a mild, grey light behind. It would begin to rain any moment.

The wind, blowing against the face and the body, was enormously strong. The ocean brought forth waves with a terrible force. It would be dangerous to go far into them.

He sat at a safe distance from the waves and watched. He watched nothing in particular, but gazed at the horizon that joined the roaring grey waters of the ocean and the thick grey clouds in the sky. Far away, the two seemed to meet.

Untellable stories lay buried in the ocean. From millennia ago. From the time of the earliest human beings, men and women had walked on this beach, sat on the rocks, stared at the ocean, sharing the things of their hearts with it, as he was doing now.

It was impossible to think that the ocean was not a being – passionate, furious, dark, deep. The ancients had thought of it as such. They called him Varuna, the sea god. To go towards him would mean being consumed in his fury. To sit and watch was to watch in awe his power and majesty.

Without warning, it began to rain heavily. The roar of the ocean became louder. The waves hit the shore with more force, coming closer to his sitting place. There was fury all around. Drenched, he stood up, picked up his bag, and walked to find shelter. Through sight, through sound, through smell, and through sheer presence that transcends the senses, Varuna was present and alive.

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~ by tdcatss on July 25, 2015.

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