The city was beautiful today.

I whizzed by the sea face in a bright red car, that I pretended was my own while it wasn't, and I took in the magic that the sun creates while it's dipping into the ocean.

The colours were delectable; like honey and hay and diluted ink on handmade paper. The tyres made a crunching sounds on the gravel and the wind danced through my hair. The smell of the sea clung to my clothes and hugged my skin until I got home.

And by the time I reached, the breeze tugged at my scarf, like a little pet does when you get home after a long day.

It was comforting.

All the leaves come crackling down around our cab. It’s like carving out a little dreamy spot for yourself amidst the harsh traffic lights and honking cars.

Somewhere caught between the sidewalk and cyclists in a frenzy, I imagined this to be as magical a moment as it gets in rush hour Bombay. I looked out and far ahead in the distance, I could see the sea. I tried to shut my eyes and smell the salt in the air. I couldn’t but given the general mood it lifted my spirits nevertheless. The road opened up for a bit and our cab shot across the street with new found enthusiasm.

With the wind finding its way in and whipping my hair into the mop, I looked over at you with your head thrown back and your eyes shut.

What a nice little ride it was.

The sea was washed away in the darkness. It was the thick, unshakable kind of darkness, where you open your eyes as wide as they’ll go to be able to see something.

The street lamps threw their dim yellow light in tight circles away from the shore. We ran under this light, fixing our gaze on a faraway defunct ship with a red light. That’s where we had to run to.

It was chilly in parts. Through those parts we ran faster, to get rid of the goose bumps. In some parts, we saw slivers of star light through the black blanket. It was amusing, as though the star was peeking out into the forbidden land.

By the time we got to the ship, we were out of breath. The darkness had lifted and we stood staring at the pink-blue sky, clutching our sides and panting.

We walked back in a begrudging manner. The sea had come out of its slumber. Somewhere behind us at the distance, the red blinking light on the ship was nowhere to be seen.

Take me to sea and we can sit and watch the sky covering us, like a large quilt speckled with stars. The water will hit against the tripods, making crashing sounds at a distance. We’ll be able to see feet dangling as other people watch what we’re watching, but probably take away, from it, something completely different.

The air will be salty and the rain will put out the many cigarettes along the sea face. It will gently mock the men who are trying to light one, as their female companions cup their hands over it blocking out the wind. The sand will find its way into my slippers and between my toes.

Cars will fly by behind us: the evening cacophony and the clapping of rubber soles on stone. A dog will come and sit with us, and we’ll play with it until it gets tired. The middle of the sea will light up for a brief moment, the blinking red light of a plane above, and we will notice this and smile for no reason.