Tumult of mighty harmonies

Like the most popular boy of class, Puri has always enjoyed the limelight, but then, the perks of being a wallflower are always there, for, at the end of the day, he outshines everybody else and comes out with flying colours. The colour of Gopalpur-on-sea is serene blue, it is foamy white and it is pitch black, reflecting the sunlight and that of the moon, leaving you mesmerized in the awe of its beauty, strength and vastness. It is infinite.

The perpetually incessant roar of the waves deafens you, taking you away from all the clamour, and putting your soul at peace like never before. As the azure sky meets the like sea, and you fail to distinguish the horizon,you realise that your eyes have ostensibly become stubborn, refusing to turn away without unfolding the mysteries beyond the blue curtain.

Unlike the blue Mediterranean "lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams", the growls of the sea at Gopalpur reverberate in your ears, annihilating all your agonies and afflictions. The sea takes it all. The sea is oxymoronic.

As the sun drowns into the waters, an all-embracing black engulfs everything in its vicinity. All that the eyes can discern are infinitesimal men in white, emerging out of nowhere, impending like an army attacking its adversary on the battlefield. The sea, at night, will petrify you out of your wits- prodding the most miniscule of the vices that you might have ever possessed.

At a time when nothing can be heard, but the howling sea, one experiences, what may be called the 'tumult of mighty harmonies.'

And after a combat - physical and mental- with the sea, you crash the bed as a changed individual, for you will have attained the pleasures of what saints have called salvation.