Sun Kissed

Chapter 8: I Like Solitude.

It's 10:00 in the morning and I am eating breakfast in the hotel restaurant all alone. Today I was in the mood for a double egg Sunny side-up but the kitchen messed it up and gave me just one instead. And I was too lazy to ask for another one. But at least the bacon was crispy.

I sat there for twenty minutes with a cup of coffee, relaxing to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. The day was bright but I don't think the same brightness was inside in me.

Something was tugging at my insides and it had already gained success at pulling some of my enthusiasm out of me. I was trying to figure out this sudden change in mood. It was not like I wanted to go third-wheeling or go scuba diving. I really wanted to have a relaxing day at the beach by myself, so why do I feel this way?

Two things I dearly love are beaches and romance novels. I am an introvert and social interactions are not my cup of tea. I don't peg myself as a person who requires company but as a person who loves solitude. So even if I had planned to go to the beach, re-read my favourite romance novel, and listen to Miley Cyrus, why was I feeling this way.

Where is that hype?

I actually felt pretty excited at the thought of having some me-time when I was bidding goodbye to my friends. I did not want to scuba diving with Kaushal and Saahil. I did not want to hang out with Divisha and Varun either. So why am I feeling this way now?

I like solitude.

Solidarity means peace. Solidarity means freedom to make your own choices.
Solidarity means no one telling you what to do with your life. Solidarity means no one to anger you. Solidarity means no useless opinions. Solidarity means no judgment.

Solidarity gives you the freedom to do whatever the fuck you want to do.

Yeah, I said that! I do swear! But just in my head.

Fuck off, people! Fuck their judgments! Fuck their comments! Fuck their "friendly suggestions"!

Your words hurt me. Your words anger me. They make me sad and doubt myself where there is nothing to be doubted about. So give me one damn reason why I should listen to what you have to say? Why do I have to listen to some stranger who knows nothing about me give me "constructive criticism" about my own god damn life?

Calm down, girl! This is not you.

Oh, Okay. Sorry! Got a little carried away there. Deep breaths.

Better?

Yup. Let's change the topic.

No, you can't do that now. Now they think you are a very angry and bad person.

I'll tell you this that I am a very respectful person. I try my best to not hurt anyone even if I have all the right to do so. I care about the opinions that come from a person that genuinely cares about me. I may or not always follow their suggestions but one thing I do know is that they will always think about what is good for me.

I actually like people. People are not bad. I just don't like when somebody tries to poke their nose where it doesn't belong.

Okay, enough of that.

I now see that my coffee is over so I sign the receipt and head to my shack. I change into my denim shorts and a cotton crop top. Put on sunscreen because Indian skin plus a tan is a bad combination. I put on a pair of lenses as I was in the mood to wear my sunglasses. I hang my camera around my neck even though I'm taking a bag along.

This time I head to a different beach. This one looks more famous as it seems pretty crowded. The crowd means more places to sit. So I head towards one of the shaded areas, order a soda and settle down. I watch people having fun. Families laughing about, children splashing water at each other, couples acting all... lovey-dovey.

I see little children scared of getting into the water, elder women lifting their saris till their knees. Oh! and how could I forget that little boy with a bucket over his head?

After watching people a bit I lean back into my chair and close my eyes and try to block out all the sounds to just feel the cool breeze on my face. I can smell the salt from the sand, the pakodas that are being fried at the shack behind me, and ooh...someone is cooking fish somewhere nearby.

I open my eyes, pick up my book, put on my headphones to listen to music. I put my Spotify on shuffle play but I just end up rearranging my playlist so that all the Miley Cyrus songs are on top. It happens every single time.

I have learned that many people hate Miley Cyrus. I know that some stunts of hers are controversial but you always have the choice to ignore them. You do need to watch her in order to listen to her songs. And her songs are actually pretty great.

I am deep in my world of fantasy, watching from the sidelines two people falling in love. I may have read the book twice or thrice before but the story still keeps me captivated. My romantic heart laughs with them, cries with them, struggles with them but also envies them.

Suddenly, I feel someone tapping on my shoulder. Even before I look up to see who it is, I hear a voice.

"Hi, sorry to bother you..."