Panchajanya

I walked the shore alone

To watch the waves coming in,

The breakers crashing down,

The ocean going berserk, foaming at the mouth.

The sky was the colour of lead,

Gulls split the clouds,

Shrieking as they scrapped for food.

Sitting on a rock, pulling at the barnacles, I felt nothing

The storm subsided

And the shore was littered with carcasses;

Sponges, jellyfish and sanddollars;

The remnants of an aquatic massacre.

Then you appeared.

Smiling, you picked up one empty shell after another;

Razor clams and moon snails, periwinkles and wentletraps,

Chestnut cowries and a flamingos tongue.

Watching you approach,

You seemed so out of place there.

The ocean would never have discarded you;

It buries its treasures in its fathomless depths instead.

Reaching into your bag full of shells

You pulled out a Queen Conch

“This is Panchajanya¹,” you said,

And held it to my ear

And suddenly

The world was full of sounds

And the clouds

Rolled away

1 The God of Preservation, Vishnu, is said to hold a special conch, Panchajanya, that represents life as it has come out of life-giving waters.