A walk to remember…

Walking beside ‘her’

The roaring blue sea continuously by your side, gently lapping your tired feet inside its foamy womb; the gushing wind trying to lift you off your feet; the occasional patches of coastal green bringing in some variety in the vast expanse of glittery yellow sand… What more can you expect in a weekend escapade?

Gauging the horizons

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The Chandipur-Digha coastal trek couldn’t have been more exciting, if the group was not equally enthusiastic. Starting from the plan to its execution- all were neatly done. And thus, we landed up, one cold January morning, in the ever populated beach of Chandipur, Orissa, to witness the red yolk of a sunrise. The walk started then and there…

 

 

Even boats are not meant to be harboured… Kashafal in the afternoon

There was a sudden, small stretch of river blocking our way soon after our trek had started. But behold! No need to stress! A little, overcrowded boat, with all its passengers, and bicycles, and motorbikes (heaven knows how they’d all fitted), gently ferried us to the other side of Buribalam River. We walked and walked, with the gulls cawing across our heads. The busy fishing boats could be seen dotted along the dazzling expanse of the bay. In the afternoon, we reached a small village, Kashafal. 

Early morning business

 

 

 

Some more business

The peaceful sleep at night in Kashafal’s deserted market yard didn’t last long. Early in the morning, the place became filled with fishermen shouting here and there, making hasty movements, gathering their fishing nets to head for their venture into the seas… 

In the shades of the Casuarinas, far from the beaches, a lonely fisherman was seen, bringing to shore his catch…

Well, not quite lonely… soon after we passed him, we turned back and saw a young woman scuttling down the sand slope towards him. A maiden with dreams in her eyes, I wished to think…

In which you can hear the sound of the seas…

 

 

 

Streaks painted on the glittery sand

Yes… the sound of the seas you can hear in these shells, they say… they come from the land of the mermaids I believe… 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trails that will soon be erased…

 

Along the way, we had tea in one small corner shop. The local people became pretty interested in what we all do. There, we happened to meet an old person, an ojha (a self proclaimed witch-doctor), who claimed to have a cure to almost anything, ranging from snake-bites to not getting  married!

We moved on…. 

 Once out of Kashafal, we started our bouts of walk towards Dogra.

Dogra happens to be a favourite spot among clamorous picnickers. We didn’t at all wish to encounter any, and thankfully we arrived so late in the afternoon, that these crowds had gone already.

 

The afternoon sun had cast a lovely dreamy glow around. The retreating sea made innumerable patterns in the glimmering sand. Fishing boats were coming home after their day-long quest for fish. On the beach we saw a human chain forming around a fishing net; with a rhythmic chant, the men’s bodies drew the net together with a strong pull every now and then.

At night, we went to the beach. It was pitch black around. The sky was studded with stars. The vicinity was absolutely quiet, except for the raging sea, howling into our ears about the day long ruckus created by the so-not-sensible people coming over throughout the weekend! The gleaming phosphorescence atop  the dashing waves made the sea look even more melancholy. Across the distance, near the horizon, we could see dim lights of the fishing boats that were still out there. The fast growing level of water indicated that tide was coming. We gradually retreated back to the comfort our guesthouse.

Next morning, we headed towards Digha- an over populated slice of coast. Crossing the Subarnarekha River, we reached a place to get transportation to Digha. From Digha, it was time to head back to Kolkata…

And the time to bid farewell came pretty soon!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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