She got off her car and locked it. She was all set for her morning run: ear phones plugged in, fluorescent green shoes and bright yellow dry-fit racer-back shirt over her black tights. She did the customary stretches near the median on the Besant Nagar beach track. Then, she crossed over to the beachside and pulled out her phone. At that moment, I walked past her, in my pace, trying to cover my target of 5 kilometres in 50-odd minutes.
Around 43 minutes later, when I was returning to that same spot after almost completing my target, she was still standing there. Her eyes were fixed on the silver of the clouds that had spurts of orange strands desperately trying to break the grey. An illuminated ship was glowing at a distance in the horizon, like a chunky piece of jewellery, adding another hue to the orange and grey waves gregariously dancing on the sea. She looked mesmerised in her conversation with the sea and the empty food shacks dotting the damp sand.
She began capturing those precious moments in her phone; once sitting and otherwise standing to capture the right angle. I saw the glow on her face as she drank in the beauty of daybreak, of the rush of colours in the horizon, of the sand, cold and wet from the previous evening rains, of the fish-fry and ice-cream shacks, tired and now resting after the burst of activity the previous evening.
She was oblivious to the hustle and bustle around her: the runners, walkers, senior citizen fathers sporting Virginia Dad and Harvard Whizkid T-shirts, and senior citizen mothers flaunting their new walking shoes that their sons/daughters have probably bought for them from America!
She did not care about the filth and litter at the Besant Nagar beach, which had anyway been taken for granted by insensitive evening visitors. Nothing mattered to her. She was engrossed in the larger portrait of nature, of the gathering rain clouds teased by the nascent rays of the sun.
I called out to her in my spontaneity, as she was my friend. But a second later, I felt guilty of having intruded into her blissful space. It was almost like I shattered her peace. The day had indeed broken and she seemed unaware of the passing time.
She saw me and greeted me with a high-five, saying, “I am feeling so guilty. I came out to run but got caught up in this delightful picture-perfect sky and sea. I forgot to run.”
I loved her childlike confession, her smile lighting up her eyes and told her, “You did the right thing. Moments like these are precious. We always try to slot our moments into a routine and schedule.” The heart colours our life, adds zest to it. But it is always the head that monitors our movements, stifling such delightful moments.
Are we not glad she did what she did that morning? What with the beaches in Chennai frothing up every other day with harmful effluents being routed into the sea? Nature’s bountiful beauty is waning, thanks to us, humans. We’d better soak in whatever little reward nature leaves behind for us.
Subhashini dinesh
The writer is Deputy Resident Editor with this newspaper