The glassy greens and angry whites
I dream of the waves again. I had almost forgotten that place in my dream, it had stopped for a long time. But yesterday I went to the same place in my dream. It is a beautiful beach, wild and green water, and light brown sand. There are various sections of this coast that I go to in my dreams. One of them is a steep sandy slope sloping away from a curved road which is lined with palm trees. The road is usually deserted. The sea is calm here, I can usually hear the waves as I run down the sandy slope towards the ocean. It is a beautiful dream when I go to this beach. Nothing bad happens.
Then there is another part of the coast. It is wilder, there is a kind of man-made curving pier extending partly into the ocean here, with rusty hand-rails. This beach is accessible from a restaurant through some posh french windows, as well as from the outside. I have kayaked off this beach, been in this water for hours. In and on this water. Only in my dreams. Usually the dream has a recurring theme: the waves crash violently against the pier. A confusion of green water and white foam, the colors accentuated as can happen only in a dream. The glassy green is difficult to capture in a painting, let alone words. Usually there are people on the beach, and the waves always take them unawares – coming in quickly and violently and sweeping off everyone. More than once, I have been in this water, helplessly swept off. But strangely, never fearing for my life. Never imagining that this could kill me. Always a sort of comfortably numb feeling when I am inside the water. Also strangely, the water is never cold.
Yesterday though my dream had Akash in it. We were on the beach, and as usual the water came rushing at us. I hold onto Akash, and we’re both holding some railings. Not the pier though today (where did it go, I wonder). Akash is sure he can hold on without my help, but I keep a firm grip on his little arm nevertheless. The water washes over us, and we are dunked and emerge as the water pleases. Akash is not crying (he hates even the shower directly over his head, but somehow my brave little boy is not minding this at all). And the swirling green… all around us. And the hiss and roar of the water… There are other people vaguely in the periphery… but nobody I know. I barely notice them. How do I keep my eyes open with all that salty water on my face?? But I do. I distinctly remember the water flowing down my face, but can’t remember the sting of salt. Good thing that!
Glad to be back in that place… I wake up disoriented to be dry, but happy.
