VIZAG VIBES
The get-together binge ran beyond late-night hours. The loud banter, uninhibited laughter, warm hugs, merry handshakes, clinking of glasses, shining baldies, and perfectly attired bonhomie reflect the wisdom gleaned over decades. I was warming up to the lively pleasure, it’s a chance for joy to be at the center of the Bapatla Agricultural College, Class of ’78 reunion.
The nostalgic blend of 42 years of camaraderie – the gluing factor of our batch got ready for a long, humming, carefree evening. The shared fond memories unfolded the pages, reminding everyone of the golden years that have passed; eighty pairs of eyes twinkling mischievously and dancing, looking back at the timeless bonding that never got dampened.
Holding the camera firmly and adjusting to the fading light, trying to catch the zing, I could hardly set my focus on the festivities at the point where the momentum was picking up.
My thoughts and mind were distracted, and I was pulled away toward the seafront a few meters apart; from where the party was going on. The more I restrained not to look at the rushing white foamy crests carrying the gentle breeze brushing against my face, the more I felt a passing urge to pitch the tripod and capture the sea draped in the mesmerizing stiff darkness.
“Let me stay, participate, and enjoy,” I said to myself.
I can’t betray the gushing emotions running to and fro among my buddies. How can I allow my passions to dominate the intimate Bromance that grew during my four years in the college, marking the most remarkable formative years?
Even then, a few hours later, risking the late-night restrictions at the shore, I tried a few attempts at the long exposure captures, but I found the outcome not good enough. Unsatisfied, that I couldn’t complete the planned task, I quit as the rising tide scared me off. I hoped I could find a favorable ambiance the following morning.
I was up early and looked out through big glass doors. It was still dark except for the roar of the invisible waves; there were no signs of dawnlight’s arrival. Anyway, I picked up the camera gear and headed toward the symmetric chant of bubbly waves ready to receive me. I felt glad, readying the camera and eying at the faint golden hues of the sunrise slowly assembling.
At a distance, among the scores of joggers, couples in their romantic snuggles, and some of my buddies busy posing for selfies, I could see the city buzzing and coming to life for its daily grind.
As daylight unfolded, I saw the fierce sea painted in hues of gold and simmering yellowish orange. It’s a captivating sight; it felt like time had paused for me to reel in as many digital murals as I could wrap up.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts from the kitchens of the resort where I was staying, mixing with the ocean air and evoking the blissful times of yesteryears. I recall my visits with my wife and two toddlers, taking snaps as they played on the wet sand and built castles. These memories squeeze to hurt me for reasons I can only discern.
Each frame I peek and study through the lens felt like a journey through time. It’s a mix of past and present— personal nostalgia, a glimpse into past events etched in my mind like a dream that keeps returning, tearing into my well-guarded calmness. However, with its serene presence and gossamer beauty, the seafront, at the moment for me, becomes not just a place but an emotion, a canvas for reflection, where the frothy waves seem to whisper the secrets of the sea and my lingering memories.
