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At first light, we looked for the beach. The bay has advanced, says a guard pointing to a boat anchored at the end of a white expanse in the shallow water. The occupation lasts for three months. The waves splashed on the long concrete platform lit by neon lamps. A group of pilgrims, who were our fellow-travellers from Rameswaram bus stand, joins a larger crowd bathing in the sea.

Between sea and sea

Don Sebastian
2006-03-10 10:39:44

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At first light, we looked for the beach. The bay has advanced, says a guard pointing to a boat anchored at the end of a white expanse in the shallow water. The occupation lasts for three months. The waves splashed on the long concrete platform lit by neon lamps. A group of pilgrims, who were our fellow-travellers from Rameswaram bus stand, joins a larger crowd bathing in the sea.

As the sky and sea reddens, glitters on the horizon become returning fishing vessels. Old couples bow before an elusive sun. Men in black, austere pilgrims to Sabarimala, dip in the morning sea. Decorated cows graze among pious visitors. Vendors of shells and agents of priests persuade people in front of the Ramanathaswamy temple.

Bus No. 3 leaves for Dhanushkodi. After selling the early-morning catch, fisherwomen return home with rice, vegetables and jasmine braids. As the bus reaches the fishing hamlet, children in school uniforms rush in. The village of Indian President APJ Abdul Kalam does not have a school. He studied here till class 5, in a building that has been reduced to brick and mortar in the cyclone of 1964.

We walk through the long beach sandwiched by sea. A woman balances a child and a bucket. Some women collect shells from the sand. Yonder, a line of figures pulls out a rope from the sea. Farther the beach, another group strive with another rope. They are connected by a huge net that trawls fish from the sea. The catch is frugal.

The expedition proves taxing. There is no end to land. The waves are energetic. They say the sea is male in Dhanushkodi and female in Rameswaram. The pair yearns to embrace each other and devastates the seven-km sand strip separating them. Dhanushkodi was a busy township with European bungalows, church, temple and even a railway station.

The first ambush came in 1949, when the male sea carved off parts of the island. Two devastating cyclones followed in 1964 and 1978. A strategic ferry service to ...