The waves came one after another, ceaselessly. The solitary boat bobbed up and down, now climbing the curving head of a wave, now swooping down in a graceful curve and going up again amidst the froth and spray. The sea was a sleepy green, fading into a gray in the distance that looked like a dull morning after a nagging rain. The boatman rowed his way deeper and deeper into the sleepy sea. Yes, in spite of all those waves, the sea looked sleepy; the waves were like dampened souls, rising and falling like clockwork. Looking at them, one simply could not feel elated. They were more like middle-aged businessmen out on a holiday with kids, trying his best to participate in their games, but failing to match their spirit. The little boat was playing with the drowsy waves as it inched forward towards the distant expanse of gray. The horizon was obscured by a silvery mist where the dull gray of the sea met the dying gray of the sky. For miles around, there was not another speck of life to be seen. The sea was sparkling with a metallic sheen – the glare of the white sun enhanced by the reflection in the water scorched the eye. My eyes were hurting and my head was throbbing wildly. I thought it would burst. But I could not look away from the sea. We seemed to be bound by some inexplicable ties – the boat and I, I had to keep my eyes on it. I just sat there watching the boatman in his now tiny boat, bobbing like a cork in the immense expanse of gray and more gray. And then I saw the kite. It came down in a graceful swoop and I could see her circling above the boat. What did the kite want? I was angry to see it there. This was my boat; I was with it all the time. What business did the kite have to come and interfere? But the kite didn’t go away. As I strained my eyes to look in the distance, the tiny speck of the boat and the even tinier dot in the sky merged into each other in that silvery mist and bobbed along together. Then I could not see them any longer. The sea was empty now, but for the bulky rocks rearing their heads here and there like lonely animals from some unknown planet with foam at their feet. I could almost hear the throbbing in my head – it felt like lead and I could hardly hold my head up. I wanted to curl up in a shady corner and fall asleep. There was a strange feeling of loss inside me. I wanted the boat to come back. Why did he have to go so far into the sea? Something inside me was welling up – I could hear the sea inside me. I felt as lonely as the stunted palm tree that jutted out at the base of my cliff, hanging on to dear life in a small patch of sand at the very edge of the sea. And then I saw the kite again. Somehow I knew it was the same kite that had flown out with my boat. She flew down from the horizon and swept up the side of the cliff in a graceful curve, almost touching the top of the palm. She circled above my head and flew out to the sea again as I waved at her and smiled. The sea inside me was now a soft gurgling stream. I curled up under the shade of a tree and slept.