The sea gulls cried out in passing, the sky was dark and gloomy, the breeze was bitter and striking the cord of my inner instrument every time it took a course. My boots were heavy. I carefully took steps towards the shore making squishing sounds. I suppressed myself in every step. My hands were blue and numb as I managed to hold the rocks in the pocket of my trench coat. My quivering lips gave way to a parched throat. The sea seemed to have expected that since the salty air that it emitted had made a fine impact already. I was returning to my “self”. The primordial self that I had nurtured all the while. I was going back to the womb that I came from. The waves invited me with the exciting tides. How could I not be enamoured by the ways of the sea? I moved towards the waves and they accepted me. My boots were heavier as I kept pace with the waves. My gaze seemed to have terrified the foams that kept washing up my coat. The stones were trembling in my pocket but I held them tight with my blue hands. My gaze was stuck to the horizon but it was blurred by the salty foam of the waves. They kept overpowering me with each step I took. I blamed them for pushing me to the shore 30 years ago. They were fierce and my voice was subjugated even before I could say “No”. But I came back to them. How could I leave my dwelling? This was where I belonged right from the start.