When I collected a few pebbles from the Puri Beach, I found the vast and cascading waves reminding me of my childhood days when I used to visit the same place with the same experience, but without so much crowd. The sea-bed has not changed, nor the charm it offered earlier, but what have changed are the situation and surroundings and, of course, my way of looking at it. Five decades ago, my father guided me to the whistling waves; now the role has reversed. The same sea and the same roar, but a different experience.
Oh, what a difference!
Now, I come here for fresh air away from the smoky city, resigning for a few minutes to the soothing, summer-repelling atmosphere. This is quite different from my childhood experience when I used to come here for the waves advancing and receding and crabs disappearing on the sand, digging holes for their refuge to escape the wrath of the truant children. Now, I watch people swimming in the deep sea and fishermen catching fish in the country-boats; but the time has gone when I was sand-balling my friends and running away in fear of being sand-balled.
Now, I only watch and visualize in a thoroughly pensive posture. Even though present is not the repeat of the past and childhood cannot return, I shall always visit my favorite Puri beach for the solace it gives me in my days of disturbed peace and diffused tranquility.