Malvan Diaries

Salonee Kulkarni B Com, International Business

6:24 AM the dawn breaks A little crack in the vast sky welcomes the golden sunshine rays of a new beginning The sky, the eggshell and the sun, a little hatchling yearning for its new beginnings Nature unclothing the cold blanket, the lazy sky wraps itself in The daylight illuminated the features of the naked sky The sea waves are calm and serene, a gentle lullaby to the shore. The shore is a night owl carrying within itself the fury of the days happening and distributing its rage to the moon which willingly volunteers The sea calms the shore in the early morning hours before the heart fills with endless complaints again The palm trees are locked up treasures of stories told under the shimmering moonlight The leaves act as ears closing themselves due to weariness The branches move in rhythm to the folktales recited the previous night The bricks of the Sindhudurg Fort preserve the culture of the region and lays the foundation for its stories. The breeze is the background dancers to the lovely tales from all around the world It carries a bite of the stories of different cultures and gently rests a piece of it in Malvan

The fishermen yawn like a tiger in hiding, gearing up for their daily routines Walking barefoot They feel the tickle of the grass and the grains of the sand which prickle their feet. Draped in a dhoti and carrying their fishnets, they travel in their magical boats. The Sea is a travel guide for frequent fisherman tourists They seek blessings from the Sea God to start their day in a fulfilling manner

A woman in her mid-twenties drapes herself in a saree and tucks her pallu Her dusky skin gleamed under the hot afternoon sun rays She gently applies her kajal, she is well-versed in the ways of concealing her stories. A teardrop forms at the brim of her eyes, unable to contain the salty liquid, it overflows her coffee-brown vessels It rolls down her cheek and reaching its end, falls on the surface of the cold dusted floor It dries up leaving a salty patch Sleeping in its cocoon, she holds her baby with warmth After feeding her cocoon fresh milk, she gently put her baby in its cradles- its own safety net (after the mother’s womb) The child wraps its soft lotus-like hands around the blanket It yawns craving a forever sleep and disappears into thin air, leaving a salty patch of imagination.

The fragrance of the Malvani cuisine escaped the creaked pink window of the neighbourhood house The smell of dried chillies on the rooftops The freshly made coconut paste The cold coconut milk was stored safely in the house It is more precious than treasured gold. The flavor of cumin, ginger, garlic, and cardamom mix to form its own perfume of delicious masalas sprinkled on the cuisine A sniff of Malvani masala stored in the jars away from the mischievous toddlers

School kids running behind used tyres with broken wooden sticks. They halt near a house to quench their thirst from the juice made of raw mango, lovingly called Kairi panha The uninvited guest then rings a bell of a house whose doors they are unfamiliar with and sprints like the cheetah- ding dong escape, a ritual common to all kids

The jovial tourists flock to the seawater. They enjoy their bit of scuba diving with the fishes of Malvan They gossip like friends who have known each other for a long time The tea gets cold and the fishermen pack their tools and head back to their homes After a hard day at work, they long for kombdi vade, solkadhi and hot rice. The happiness gleams on their face as they sing,

Malvan Panyamadhe killa pahuni mana madhe bharala, Killa dese Manohar, lata yethel bayankar

(In the Malvan waters, I witness a Fort My heart fills with delight, The Fort is captivating that even the waves are eager to greet the Fort )