Three dolphins soared up high above the water, vanishing again in the blink of an eye. I waited under the merciless, mid-may sun, which lingered above my head like a perennial flower, heating up my skin to the point of sunburn. The sand under my feet felt like smoldering hot coal, and I could barely stand still. The water, which bore the color of an aquamarine, was tempting enough for an afternoon dip, and the only logical thing the mind could conjure was to shed off the cloths and vanish into the sea, only to come up occasionally for breath…like dolphins… 🙂 I felt blessed to have found this place—hardly visited by humans, and I made up my mind never to publicize it too much lest it should lose its charm.
We waited for long but there was no sign of the dolphins. The whole place looked a lot different than last year. The sea was not as calm as it used to be, and I could see some trawlers rummaging over the water, casting their hideous nets all over. Maybe the dolphins no longer lived there. Maybe the humans scared them away. Far towards the cliff, I could see huge machinery stabbed onto the ocean floor—there were workers moving around with load of rubble on their heads, technicians operating huge cranes which moved large block of concrete walls, placing them right into the heart of the bay to create a barrier, engineers walking up and down the deck optimistically guiding the project to its completion. There was so much going on. I came to know that a jetty is under construction to boost the trade relationship between India and Sri Lanka.
I departed with a heavy heart knowing that this place will never remain the same.