Like an oracle dances in the shore...

● Every time when I walk to this beach I only think of that proud protest which an entire people of village literally participated with their complete mind and body to resist the coming of saurashtra public limited cement factory, I had a very proud childhood about my village because of their constant engagement of meaningful cultural practices. art marches and arrival of cycle circus group was among favourite also pottery makers from faraway used to come for months long stay in the bazaar each time they only left after complete sales of their pottery.

● The most favourite places which I never feel board to capture, there is nothing diverse in first look because everything is underneath that long widen sea. The entire land its ecology decided by it, people colour smell food slang economy everything from earth to heaven.

● Now I only feel a village culturally obsoleted because people took everything for personal and family advantages. They never dreamt further, highly toxic morality numbed their visions and acceptances.

● The solidarity and remembrance of death became a mode of meaninglessness. People sorrow is for the nostalgia mostly all the time.

● Solitary souls flew over the horizons found the freedom. Others wandered looked walked touched rested in peace with mundane life. They locked with the mockery of development getting richer marriage and buying luxury.

● The white sky turns grey and its shades in monsoon. the water saturated with anger, when waves touch in my feet’s and go, I only feel an older soul hitting the head like an oracle dance in the shore and the gravity pulled them back or to the memory.

● In red sky the Sun follows hyper slow motion going down to the horizon. The sunset was the only magnificent thing in my village. I can't remember when I saw it last time. I can't remember when I saw the line of boats in the horizon with illuminating lights in equal distance fishing in the night.

● Fishing the grant act of the place. This hero never got a medal of honour. Women never went for fishing they always waited in land with empty stomach. Patriarchy and manpower wheel this place. Unlearning is a privilege or destruction of self in village.

- Thasil