Tales from a parallel world.

Puri, Odisha (Orissa), India
Ocean


The ocean beach is the cleanest and most deserted place in Puri. There's no litter here because the ocean is a deity that has repeatedly shown its character and strength by flooding huts on the coast during summer storms and floods, washing away local residents dozens or even hundreds at a time into its fathomless depths.
Locals fear and respect it. Most of them wouldn't think of venturing into its embrace willingly. In fact, only fishermen know how to swim among the locals.
Mostly visitors bathe here. From Bhubaneswar, Kolkata, and even Delhi. Women enter the water fully clothed – no one in their right mind would expose their naked bodies to strangers. Men can afford to undress, although they don't always do so.
The eastern coast, this local resort "for our own," is very different from western Goa, where Russians and other foreigners like to hang out. Here, we, "Russians" (because all Russians here are Russians, Ukrainians, Belarusians, Kazakhs) accept the rules of the game and also bathe in clothes. You go to the shore – the wind and heat dry your clothes in minutes. Although you can walk along the coast outside the city to wild beaches where no one will stare with greedy eyes at blondes in bikinis. Sometimes we do just that. Of course, with companions. Because there have been cases involving women who like to sunbathe alone.
I guess everyone has their own "source of strength" - something that gets you back on your feet in a few days, cures fatigue, dispels thoughts about the futility and insignificance of life. The sea has always been my salvation. Fortunately, it takes only a couple of hours by bus from the city to the coast. A small, shallow Sea of Azov, a village with two streets, off-season – May or September, a deserted beach, storm season... Normal people don't swim at this time. But those who aren't normal gather in groups of 3-4 people and have a great time jumping over waves and diving under them.
In Puri, everything was exactly the same. March, empty beaches, the beginning of the storm season. Although, of course, the ocean is not a small, shallow sea. The waves here are bigger and stronger. In another month or two, swimmers will be replaced by surfers on boards – maybe a couple for the entire coastline )) And until then, you can still dive and jump, dodging unusually high waves, without letting them knock you down, or if they do, hold your breath and control your body so that the "backwash" doesn't drag you into the depths.
The Indians didn't understand this extreme activity but watched with interest and true Indian impudence, sitting on the beach (which was empty!) right opposite our location. Observers :D Or contemplators, I don't know.
After sunset, even the "wild Russians" didn't risk going into the water. At this time, a small market appeared on the shore for strollers - street food, masala tea, ice cream, glowing toys, and kites with lanterns. And stalls – two or three rows, standing right near the surf line. After all, locals know how to contemplate :) We also got used to this pastime: we buy masala tea or "Cola," sit on a bench facing the ocean. And we contemplate... You can watch these raging waves at your feet for hours.