Away from the Asphalt

On April 23, 2013 by Aaron Mascarenhas

Photo credit: keedap


The beach has always held a special place amongst my memories of this coastal city. On Sunday, the 21st of April, I happened to visit Panambur after almost a year. This poem was conceived as I was steering along the near perfect road that leads to Panambur. It stretches across miles of groves, a sight which can fool you to believe that the ice caps are melting a little slower than you imagined.

After a peaceful ride and quite the parking hassle later (an irritatingly familiar situation) I set out to the sands, when uninvitedly nostalgia struck like a ruthless b*tch and brought forth unnecessary sentimentality. Memories washed ashore as I walked by people who were tapping the sand out of their clothes and shoes (Some doing so with utter disregard for the fact that they were in public place and were prancing around butt-naked!), grandparents on their day out with the grand-kids, one class of ’86 reunion and a multitude of randomosities!

As I finally went through the Welcome arch, I realized the magnitude of the change that a recent venture of the tourism department had brought to the beach. The crowd was a bustling mix of sand-cravers, at one end were the libidinous loafers and on the other laid-back lovers, the former indecorously staring at the latter. The impromptu nature of this trip found me in the most uncomfortable beachwear conceivable (Well maybe not.. now I’m thinking of Borat in his mankini!). But all said and done, the sweet nothings that the sunset spoke as the moon lazily rose into the night lent a refreshing break from the asphalt forest!



A long grey ribbon stretched between the treetops that lay before,

As smooth as butter. I steered along; the sands I yearned for

I left the metal I owned in a forest where all looked the same

As I walked along – flashback’s of my dad’s Kodak; sand I saw again.

Mom’s smiled, while Dad’s shouted – “No sand in the car!”

The police munching on nuts, ‘t was a lazy Sunday so far.



The welcome crowd was a mélange of wheat, black and white

Away from the camels and horses I trotted, for a serene respite.

Many a string-bearers to be the best, with hope they hoisted

Beautiful chorus formed against the vast blue, left them disappointed.

Far from tea ‘n toast, ‘t was grandpa’s day with the cherubic grandkids.

In the saccharinity of friendship the world’s hate seemed relinquished.



Two, but were one – they brightened and enamored the dun skies.

My weak words to this emotion I fear not lend, for they’ll ring as lies.

The sun then bade its goodbyes on the horizon, to the steamers;

Casually did the moon arrive and so did the poets & dreamers.





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