Sitting at the shore on a summer’s eve, gazing at the ship anchored in the sea. Watching its flared sail and the stillness of it, I wonder what all this ship has seen? The wrath of storms, the tranquillity of still waters, the feet of hundred men walking on it, the never ending length of seas and oceans, and everything that goes underneath. A life of its own, an experience of its own, a feel of its own on the sea. And after all that, here it is, still and calm, afloat on the water, growing more still and soothing me; soothing me of my own experiences, my own storms, my own life. I come here often to sit at the shore and gaze at these ships. I feel lost in the imagination of the stories of these ships and mine alike, in the journey of these ships and mine alike. I take the gaze off, I then walk away and soon both our stories are forever lost at sea.