What It Feels Like To Stand On The Edge Of Africa

by Miss Nauti Tales
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Edge Of Africa

Paradise isn’t a place, it’s a feeling. – L.Boyer

There is a roar in the air, and it won’t stop. I can feel a push behind me, it’s strong, it wants me to keep going.  But I am shaking. Even though it is deceivingly sunny in appearance yet the chill in the air is hard to miss. It’s almost like nature is playing a joke on me today.

I am on the edge of Africa. Well, the southwestern tip of Africa to be precise. There is a clear path laid out in front of me, and yet the winds are pushing me towards the sea. I tell the wind, if I could there is nothing I would rather do than fly over the ocean – in the direction you choose to take me. It doesn’t seem convinced.

So what does this edge of Africa even mean? Does the humongous continent just end now? Is it an empty vastness of ocean all around from here? Do the clouds finally meet the sea?

Well, yeah. That + centuries-old history to go with it. It’s hard to explain. There are tourists all around and yet there is an eerie silence. The rhythm of crashing waves, the faint sounds of birds chirping somewhere far away and yet my mind is at peace. The air so crisp, I would bring it to Gurgaon. Maybe time will be kind enough to stop just for a second, allow me to absorb what I feel. I can’t let this feeling go away. It has to stay.

My walking tour guide by now is fed up with me. I am the last one walking. Ah, what the hell. I am an Indian, he must have come across far worse. He occasionally looks back to make sure I am around, but I think in his head he has given up. I am ok. Places like these don’t need much chaperoning anyways. [Just kidding they totally do]

I am here with the love of my life, my husband. We sit down every few steps and do some wishful dreaming. I mean how can one not.

Aren’t those movie stars lucky who get to dance in these wonderlands? I would dance like no ones watching if I got the chance. Kaho na pyaar hai. What say?

 

Where would you want to build our hut? Next to the beach, or on the top overlooking the Atlantic?

 

If we lived here, would the African Penguins want to be our regular weekend guests? Heck, I will keep my calendar free on weekdays too for them. It’s like the queen visiting, only better…

And our imagination just went on and on… Ok, before the boy comes home to kill me, most of these wishful dreaming was all mine. There I said it. But do you blame me?

 

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