A moment of bliss

I sat up and looked around, my eyes scanning the horizon taking in the setting sun. A few centuries ago a mighty ruler had once called this rampart his domain with its strategic locations straddling river and ocean. The Indian king Tipu Sultan had possibly used this outpost to monitor his waterways - hence the moniker 'Sultan Battery'. Nowadays it harbored none of the fierce warriors, but served more as a secret getaway to an assortment of 'roadside Romeos' and star-struck lovebirds who would flee to the safety of its solid stone walls for a few moments away from the glare of the rest of the forever inquisitive world.

I was not there that balmy evening for either, although maybe there was something towards seeking a bit of solitude from the teeming crowds, noise and hustle bustle which seemed to have sprung about my hitherto sleepy hometown like weeds after a spring rainfall. It was a serene evening, sitting on the rampart walls looking over the isthmus towards the beach on the other side. The sun was just setting signaling the returning fishing fleet to come in to dock at the small ramshackle harbor. A sweet breeze began to rise carrying with it the aroma of fried fish from one of the many small hamlets that dotted the coast, mmmmm.... reminded me of the good food to be had back home.

But at that moment in the company of a few good friends, soaking up the splendid view - it was pure bliss.