With love

Dear R,

You asked me to describe how I felt when I saw the Arabian Sea for the first time at Marine Drive.

It was like falling in love.

Like the time when your heart begins to pace at a speed you imagine never existed. When you cannot peel your eyes away because you are taken by the beauty that lies in front of you. It was that vastness, that sprawling empire of blue which made me realize that I was nothing but a tiny speck in the entire cosmos. 

I remember being mesmerized by her as my car drove past. I hoisted my chin on the window to see miles of blue go on and on with a determined endeavour never to end. Arching my back, I had leaned forward, stretching the view of my eyes ever so much so to see that thin line of indigo where the two magnificent halves met. The driver was in a hurry that day; I remember the wind slapping against my cheek, my hair unfurling and lashing, and my desperate attempts to discipline my billowing shirt. 

I had gestured the driver to pull up on the side, for I wanted to meet this majestic beauty. On the concrete boulevard that necklaced her, I found a spot and settled there. And I remained there, fascinated by the fearlessness with which the water broke against the rocks, by the salty froth that threatened to, and did, drench the by-standers and, by the crabs, smooth black capsules crawling across the sun-seared boulders. And all I could think of at that moment was my fierce wish to be accepted in the institution I had come to Bombay for. 

For I had fallen in love with the city, and Marine Drive was fated to be my anchor. 

{memories, remembering, letters, love}
Photography: Raj Lalwani