The Man who saw Nothing

The Man who saw Nothing

“The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far…”

                                                                                      – H.P. Lovecraft

There are still some beaches in Konkan…untouched by modern times….beaches where the sun-sets are only seen by the locals & the retreating sea-gulls….faces of the sea, where at night only the long spiralling palm trees sway to the primitive rhythm of the winds & the sands bear no other marks than that of the waves. Beaches waiting… but somehow not exactly wanting to be discovered.

I walked towards the ritualistic beating of the waves like a temple virgin towards sacrifice...afraid yet caught in the frenzy. The final minimal lights of Bhantale village were way behind me now.

I had arrived here 2 days ago, with my old college friends. It had been almost a year after finishing college and getting our first jobs that we had been to a trip together. We wanted to go somewhere where we hadn’t been before and now that we could afford it, we started looking for an unspoilt beach in the Konkan and had somehow found it. Somewhere between Dapoli and Malvan, exists a good stretch of beaches still unexplored by Mumbai and Pune pleasure-seekers. It was to one such beachside village that we had planned to go. Tejas’ uncle had been there before, but he had not stayed there. But he said that it could be arranged and that it would be ideal for us. The only advice that he had given, which in retrospect I will always remember was

“The best time is usually in November to February, during the winter. It’s not the right season to go right now.” 

It was the weekend of 2nd of August, right in the middle of the monsoon season. I was sure that he had meant it in a normal way…Monsoon not being a good season to travel sea-side…Especially, if you are youthful people who are always willing to risk it a bit for adventure. But it had hardly rained, not even in heavy rainfall areas like Konkan. Rain or not, the sea is not it’s usual in the monsoons and as I had discovered 2 days ago, especially not here in Bhantale.

I walked past the trees that border lined the beach, tall spires offering a last frontier to the vastness that lay ahead. Surprisingly the sky was cloudless…the moon was at its surreal best…bathing everything in its sinister silvery light. Everything around seemed a like an obscure but well remembered dream.

The sea was in full blow, inching closer and closer to the trees, far closer than it was in the day. It was the full moon. Huge walls of water rose and fell as they wished, carrying visceral froth & the moon’s glow on their backs. I saw as far as my vision could take me…was there a light blinking in the distance? ...I thought to myself. I started looking for the point where the waves actually started but just could not. I was told I would find what I was looking for there. I started walking barefoot, the characteristic white sand was not visible it was all buried under water. I kept walking and was soon ankle deep.  The wind blew as if whispering in my ear. There were waves everywhere in my eyesight. It was like walking through a desert of water, dunes of waves rising and falling. The cold, black yet gleaming water splashed at my knees, the sand slithered from beneath my feet as is walked deeper and deeper. The only land there was, was behind me now. I dared not to look behind more than once. As I knew it would certainly deter me from trying to find out what I was looking for. Behind me to my right almost half a kilometre away, the frontier of the trees stopped, the sea curved in to meet a creek and form stagnant backwaters. Perhaps because of no light pollution or perhaps because of my mind playing games…I could still see the tall dark spires of the Bhantaleshwar temple.