The wide beach in the small coastal town of Betul glistened with soft, silvery sand as it lay beneath a forested hill on a summer evening, bathed in the bright sunshine.
Abhi and his friends often came here after bunking college. Today was their final evening here, as they were set to leave for Bangalore to begin their careers with major multinational corporations, following their engineering at Don Bosco College in Margao.
Abhi was standing near the shore watching the waves intently.
He hardly spoke much as his small leaf-shaped black eyes were fixed on the silent waters of a limitless ocean. While Raj and Ram sat behind his back on a rock discussing renting their new apartment, and their plans around buying a new car, working in swanky offices, and partying in expensive bars. Abhi had a stream of questions running in his mind as his eyes turned moist
‘ Why do I have to leave you? Why isn’t Love limitless like you are?’ he ignored his friends asking his opinion on which apartment to rent.
He was lost in the crashing of the waves that hit his ears like a melodious hymn. The pleasant breeze swooshed upon his face whispering something in his ears.
His eyebrows were creased as if trying to look at something afar, beyond his sight.
Meanwhile, his friends made fun of him as they said ‘ What Abhi.. we have come here so many times in the past 4 years. Are you not bored of watching this same sea which has nothing better to do than keep roaring, and make waves and hit the shore and repeat again and again?’
‘Who would want such kind of a life — where every day is the same?’ Ram added with his head buried into his mobile phone.
Abhi finally turned his back to reply ‘ Who says it is the same? I see it differently every time I come. Like today, the sound of the waves is grim and silent. The white strokes in the sky are like painters attempting to try different brushes. And when the sky meets the sea, the thin blue line at the edge is darker than usual. The waves on the side are zig-zagging the foot of hills like hissing snakes swimming in the sea. ‘
Raj was now losing his patience as he looked at his watch ‘Okay forget it.. I see the sea, sky, and mountains and they remain the same every day. ‘
‘Yes, that is what you see and this is what I see. But, what I was trying to say is that every day even if it’s the same, it is not the same.’
Raj and Ram just shook their head as they turned to return to their homes to prepare and pack for the journey the next day.
As for Abhi, he was yet to say his goodbye to the ocean where he came every day without fail. He went home, rushed into his room and sat in front of his canvas.
He painted the ocean in a way that captured not just the image, but the spirit of it. As his long slender fingers moved carefree on the canvas, the room around him seemed to disappear, and he felt a deep sense of peace settling over him.
A few days later, Abhi soon settled in Bangalore, his new canvas rolled up and tucked away among his few possessions. The city was a stark contrast to his quiet seaside town, bustling and teeming with life. He joined his friends in a high-rise apartment, the view from the window a jungle of concrete, nothing like the expansive sea he loved.
His job at the IT firm was demanding. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and Abhi found himself caught in the relentless cycle of deadlines and meetings. The painting he had brought with him remained rolled up, untouched since he had moved.
One evening, as he walked back from a late night at work, Abhi took a different route through an older part of the city. He stumbled upon a small, dimly lit art gallery. Something about it beckoned him inside. The gallery was quiet, with paintings that whispered stories of far-off places and times long gone. As he wandered through, a particular painting caught his eye. It was of a stormy sea, remarkably similar to the one he had painted but with a small, mysterious figure standing on the shore, looking out into the waves.
Captivated, Abhi asked the gallery owner about the artist. The owner, an elderly woman with a kind smile, told him it was painted by someone who had loved the sea and often spoke of its ever-changing moods. The artist had left the city years ago, leaving behind paintings but taking their secrets with them.
Since the gallery stayed open until midnight, he often visited on his way back from work. It provided him solace, like being with someone who truly understood him.
One rainy evening, as Abhi was lost in thought before a particularly striking seascape, a woman with striking eyes walked into the gallery. She paused, her deep blue eyes locking onto the same painting that held Abhi's attention. The gallery owner, noticing the mutual interest, introduced them.
"Abhi, this is Maya," she said with a knowing smile. "The artist behind the painting you so admire."
Maya had an air of quiet intensity about her. She shared that she had left painting years ago after a tragic incident where her partner, also a painter, was lost at sea while they were painting the rugged coastlines of a remote island.
After the incident, she took up a position as an art teacher at a government college in Goa. Her long eyelids fluttered as she spoke about missing the sea's ever-changing moods. Despite her longing, she found she could no longer stay by the shore for long. If she persisted, her legs would tremble and her mind would grow numb, her eyes closing involuntarily.
She even fainted once, and after that incident, she stopped visiting the ocean. Seven years had passed, and nothing had changed. Recently, she returned after a long absence to collect some belongings.
As Abhi started meeting her often in the gallery, the deep blue colour of the ocean in her eyes reflected the depth of the sea he had fallen for. He returned to his room and gathered his easel and painting supplies to start painting again. Maya’s large sea-blue eyes reminded him of the ocean he longed for. She was fair and as tall as him with a thin jawline and often wore an extra-large shirt with a pair of faded denim hiding her thin frame.
One day, he brought his painting to the gallery and showed it to Maya. It depicted the sea crashing against a rocky cliff, but the water was painted the same colour as her eyes—a shade of sky blue, just a bit darker, perfectly matching the exact hue of her gaze.
Her eyes widened as she gazed at the painting, the reflection of the sea mirroring in her deep blue eyes as if the sea had chosen her as its sanctuary. Holding the painting tightly, her voice trembled slightly, "Will you please take me here?"
The following day, they took the bus to Betul Beach, where they painted the ocean side by side. Seated on a rock, Abhi painted with his left hand while his right hand held Maya’s slender fingers in his wide palm, steadying her trembling hand. Together, they gently brushed the canvas, filling it with the hues of the ocean.
Tears welled up in Maya's eyes, reflecting the ocean's droplets as if they had found their way to her. They exchanged glances, with only the gentle murmur of the sea filling the silence between them.
After their return, Abhi became engrossed in work but often found himself thinking about Maya. He never saw her again; the gallery owner informed him that she had resumed painting the ocean and was now living in a remote coastal village.
Even though Abhi never saw Maya again, he felt connected to her through the colour of the sea, which he often painted during his free time. His brushstrokes were tender as he thought of her large eyes, framed by thick, long lashes that sometimes veiled her blue gaze.
He still visited the gallery, spending hours in front of her paintings, feeling her presence in the calm yet wild sea depicted on the canvas. One day, the elderly gallery owner, curious about his prolonged visits, asked to see his paintings.
He invited her to his home and showed her a collection of canvases capturing the ocean's various moods—some fierce, some calm, some wild, some barren, yet all shared the same blue as Maya’s eyes.
Moved by his work, the gallery owner proposed an exhibition titled 'The Sea of Dreams' to showcase his paintings. Encouraged by this, and after selling a few of his paintings for amounts well over his expenses, Abhi left his job and returned to his hometown. He rented a small house near the beach, with a table beside a window that offered views of the blue skies and the sea, mirroring the colour of her eyes. Sometimes, he would sit for hours, seeing her reflection in the deep blue sea. At other times, he would close the window and stare blankly at his canvas until suddenly he would pick up his paintbrush to capture the mood of the ocean.
As for Maya, she lived in a coastal village, reuniting with the sea that found its home in her sky-blue eyes. Did they meet again? Perhaps not, but the sea stood as living proof of a love that flowed freely across the canvas of life.
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