The wind lashes over me.
The breeze. the freshness. the smell of freedom and salt spray.
This is ecstasy, I think.
Reminds me of Goa. The days I spent. The crashing of the waves.
The silent moments spent on the veranda of our shack on the beach.
The solitary musings. The thoughts of nothingness.
I can feel the proverbial shackles dropping to the floor. Setting me free. Releasing my yearning heart.
The wind washes over me again.
The overhead AC has started working. I am in my office.
I ease out of my reverie. But I can still taste the sea on my tongue.
And hear the seagulls.
The shackes come back up, binding me.
But my heart yearns.
One day, I’ll be free. Some day.