Cantilevered Reminders

An inward urge to surpass and diminish the audible vile voices of pessimism imposed on finished and unfinished chapters in my life by the innumerable unscrupulous human elements is one big reason I engage myself on a personal errand with mother nature every time I need to recoup the battle haggard innocuous spirit in me. The long stretch of coconut and palm fringed beaches of Fort Cochin studded with historic souvenirs provides the perfect ambience for a sojourn journey away from materialistic life swelling like a beastly inferno waiting to reduce me to ashes. Squatting on granite rocks well positioned to form a sea wall reminding sand that they belong to where they lie now, I try recapitulating the super powers that once ruled this obscure fishing hamlet years ago. One by one they come to my mind: the Arabs, the Chinese, the Portuguese, the Dutch, the English. After a short stint in pondering over the leftovers by these mighty conquerors, somatic shadows of wooden giants summon me to take part in their daily unbalanced endeavours. Well if you are familiar with the shores of Fort Cochin, you've guessed it right. Yes, the Chinese Fishing nets, part and parcel of the historic remnants that these shores boast of. Each of these cantilevered fishing stalwarts are virtual reminders of the various hands that unleashed havoc after their original masters were forced out of this land. Even though subjects of menial labour and ambassadors of enigmatic diligence, they spread light gingerly with no gimmick, flooding into the mysterious mazes of my mind the need to slaughter forms of envy, jealousy and wretchedness by just being what i am. This tête-à-tête meeting sans petulance with these gentle giants in the lap of mother nature help me realise where I am, setting free the refugee in me. Just before the culmination of this eventful voyage, an intuition in me wants me to be an entrant to this shallow topsy turvy spectrum of varied entities.