My trip to Mandarmani

There are days when you scroll through old notes, and a wave of sadness quietly washes over you. Yes, that’s exactly how I felt yesterday.

In the lonely evening — the heart heavy, thoughts dim. While aimlessly scrolling through my phone, I stumbled upon a video recorded just a few days before the world changed — before the pandemic arrived.

It was a clip from my trip to Mandarmani, a serene sea beach in West Bengal. The moment the video started playing, I could almost smell the salt in the air again.

The rhythmic sound of waves, children’s laughter, the distant shout of vendors — it all came alive before my eyes.

Suddenly, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time — peace. A strange calmness settled within me. I decided then and there to share that memory with you, not just as a recollection but as a reminder of how precious life’s simple moments can be.

I have always been enchanted by the sea. The vastness of it, the boundless horizon where water meets sky, and the music of the wind that seems to cleanse both body and soul.

At Mandarmani, I remember standing quietly where the waves touched my feet — each ripple seemed to whisper something kind, something eternal.

As the waves danced around my ankles, I felt a childlike joy, the kind that makes you forget the rest of the world.

The soft golden sand slipping beneath my feet

The soft golden sand slipping beneath my feet seemed to carry away every trace of tiredness from my heart. It felt like the sea loved me back — washing my worries away, grain by grain. How I wish I could have stayed there forever.

But time, like the tides, moves on. Today, as I think of those days, my mind can hardly believe how much has changed since then.

Just a few months after that trip, the world went into lockdown. The coronavirus pandemic forced us to stay home, trapped by an invisible threat. Each day felt less about adventure and more about simply surviving.

Every morning began with a prayer of gratitude

Yes, every morning began with a prayer of gratitude — a new day alive, unharmed. Yet every evening brought the news of rising numbers, of people lost, of friends who would never return.

There were no final goodbyes, only digital condolences through screens. Life, once so vibrant, had turned into a muted echo of the past.

Compared to that, Mandarmani felt like another planet — alive and luminous. I can still recall that day clearly.

The sea was swelling gently under the mellow sun, and the beach was alive with people and colors. Children in bright clothes were chasing waves and laughter.

Little girls with flying ribbons looked like butterflies set free. Couples walked hand in hand, leaving faint footprints that the sea lovingly erased.

Somewhere near the water’s edge, a lone artist was sketching on the wet sand — capturing not just the beauty of the sea, but its pulse. Now and then, a fisherman’s song rose above the crashing waves, blending with the sound of the wind.

The sea shimmered like molten gold.

Soon the sun began its descent, painting the sky in glorious hues of amber and crimson. The sea shimmered like molten gold. Boats anchored near the shore turned into dark silhouettes, silent witnesses to the day’s last breath.

As dusk fell, lights along the path flickered on, and coconut trees cast long shadows that danced with the evening breeze.

We sat quietly, my family and I, watching the golden rays fade into a soft twilight glow. The gentle wind from the sea turned cooler, and the atmosphere filled with a calm that words can scarcely describe.

In that moment, the world felt perfect — no rush, no fear, no boundaries. Just us, nature, and peace.

Gradually, the beach began to empty. Children gazed fondly at their sand castles one last time, reluctant to leave. Balloons floated away into the darkening sky.

Even as people walked back toward the hotels, their faces glowed with fresh happiness, and their hearts felt lighter. The sea, it seemed, had shared some of its joy with all of us.

That night, long after returning to my room, the sound of the waves echoed within me. It wasn’t just a sound — it was a feeling, a living rhythm reminding me that life, no matter how uncertain, always finds its tide again.

Today, when I watch that old video amid these uncertain times, it gives me hope.

The sea taught me something essential —

that no storm lasts forever. Beyond fear and loss, the waves still rise, the sun still sets in beauty, and somewhere beyond the horizon, new light always waits.

Looking back, that day at Mandarmani was more than a memory; it became a lesson. Nature has its quiet way of healing us when words fall short.

The sea reminded me to keep faith even when the shores of life seem distant. Its endless rhythm whispers the truth — happiness may fade for a while, but it always returns with the tide.

May we all learn to listen more often to that inner ocean that gently reminds us to live, breathe, and hope again.

BE HAPPY… BE ACTIVE… BE FOCUSED… BE ALIVE

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Categories: infotainment

Tags: #भावना, #Beach, #creativity, #happiness, #Mandarmani, #poetry, #Travel, #wellness, nature, writing