Sunrise on the eastern coast is a special event. I stood at Dolphin’s Nose, a spur jutting out into the Bay of Bengal, to behold the breaking of the sun’s upper limb over the horizon of the sea. As the eastern sky started unfolding like the crimson petals of a gigantic flower, I was overcome by a wave of romantic feelings and nostalgia—vivid memorie not diminished by the fact that almost ten years had passed.
I was a young bachelor then, and Visakhapatnam did not have much to offer. Every Sunday morning, I used to rise before dawn and head for Dolphin’s Nose, to enjoy the dazzling spectacle of the sun majestically rising out of the sea. The fresh, salty sea breeze was a panacea for all the effects of hangovers caused by Saturday night excesses.
After viewing the metamorphosis at sunrise, I would walk downhill along the steep mountain-path, towards the rocky beach, for a brief swim. Each time, I noticed a flurry of activity in a distant compound with a single decrepit building. I used to ignore it, but curiously, one day I decided to take a closer look. It was a fish market. Most customers were housewives from the nearby residential complexes. They were at their “Sunday-worst”—sans make-up, slovenly dressed, faces unwashed, and unkempt hair—in stark contrast with their carefully made-up appearances at the club the previous evening.
I had began to walk away, quite dejected, when I saw her for the first time. I stopped, dead in my tracks. She was a real beauty—tall, fair and freshly bathed, her long lustrous hair dancing on her shoulders. She had large, expressive brown eye and her sharp features were accentuated by the rays of the morning Sun. I can’t begin to describe the sensation she evoked in me; it was the first time in my life that I felt my heart ache with such intense yearning. I knew this was love. Yet, in my heart, I knew that Istood no chance—she had a mangalsutra around her neck. She was married—maybe happily, too. Nevertheles I drew closer to her and made the pretence of buying some fish. Smiling guardedly at me, she selected a couple of pomfrets and held them out to me. I managed to briefly touch her soft hands—the feeling was electric and a shiver of thrill passed through me. She communicated an unspoken “good-bye” with her teasing, dancing eyes and briskly walked away. Too dazed to follow her, I returned to my room and had fried pomfret for breakfast. Needless to say, they tasted delicious.
Soon, I was following this routine every Sunday morning with almost religious zeal. She never missed her rendezvous with me—same place, same day, at precisely the same time, Seven o’clock. Still, not a word was exchanged between us. I was too shy and she probably wanted to keep it this way—a beautiful ethereal relationship—a love so delicate that one wrong move might ruin everything. Meanwhile, I had developed a taste for fried pomfret—quite surprisingly, considering that I had never eaten fish before.
As the years went by, I left Visakhapatnam and travelled around the world, met many beautiful girls at the various exotic places I visited. But I never forgot her! A man’s first love would always have an enduring place in his heart.
And now, I was back in Visakhapatnam, almost ten years later. As I walked down the slope towards the beach, in my mind’s eyes I could still vividly envision the playfully sublime look on her face—her gentle smile and communicative eyes—even if ten years had passed. I could not contain the mounting excitement and anticipation in me; I was desperately yearning to see her again. It was a forlorn hope but I felt flushed with optimism.Reaching the beach, I noticed that the sun was well clear of the horizon. I glanced at my watch—almost seven o’clock. I hastened my step, almost breaking in to a run, and reached the fish market where I stood at the exact same spot, where we used to have our rendezvous at sunrise.
Trembling with anticipation verging on anxiety, I looked around with searching eyes. Nothing had changed. The scene was exactly the same as I had left it ten years ago. There was only one thing missing—she wasn’t there! I had drawn out the short straw! I felt crestfallen. My mind went blank and I stood motionles overcome with gloom, when suddenly, I felt that familiar electrifying touch, the same shiver and the familiar thrill. It jolted me back to reality, as quick as lighting. As she softly put two promfret fish in my hand I was feeling in the seventh Heaven.
Looking at her, I was not disappointed. Her beauty had enhanced with age. Yet, something had changed, indeed. Yes! It was her eyes. Her large brown eyes did not dance so teasingly anymore. There was a trace of sadnes a sense of tender poignancy in her liquid brown eye as she bid me her unspoken “good-bye”. Dumbstruck by the abruptness of the event and the enormity of the moment, I stood frozen like a statue, unable to react or say anything. It was only when she was leaving that I noticed that there was no mangalsutra around her slender neck anymore.
翻译:
东海岸的日出是一道特别的景观。我站在海豚鼻——一块向外延伸至孟加拉海湾的地方——观看太阳的上半边缘冉冉升起在海平面上。当东边的天空开始如一朵巨大的花展开深红色的花瓣般逐渐红透时，我被一股浪漫的感觉和怀旧之情征服了——如此清晰的记忆，并没有因为近乎十年的光阴已经逝去这个事实而褪去。
那时，我还是一个年轻的单身汉，维萨卡帕特南市对我来说并没有太多好玩的东西。每个周日早晨，我习惯天不亮就起床，前往海豚鼻，享受太阳从海面上庄严升起的壮丽景观。清新又有一丝咸味的海风不啻是一种万能药，能够缓解周六晚上因尽情玩乐而引发的宿醉后的不适感。
在观看了日出时奇妙的变化以后，我会沿着陡峭的山路下行，走到一个遍布岩石的海滩，游一会儿泳。每次，我都注意到远处有一个居民区，里面有一座破旧的建筑物，人声沸沸扬扬。我通常都对它视而不见，但很奇怪的是，有一天，我竟决定走过去看看。这是一个鲜鱼市场。大部分顾客都是附近居民楼里的家庭主妇。她们完全是一副最糟糕的周日装扮——不施粉黛，衣着邋遢，脸也没洗，头发蓬乱——这与她们前一晚在夜店里那副精心装扮的外表形成了鲜明的对比。
我很失望，正要离开时，我第一次看见了她。我停了下来，脑子里一片空白。她真是一个美人——个子高高的，肤若凝脂，带着浴后的清新。长而有亮泽的头发在她的肩上起舞。她有一双大而有神的褐色眼睛，分明的轮廓在晨曦里更加清晰可见。我无从描述她在我内心唤起的感受。在我的一生中，我还是头一次由于强烈的渴望而感到内心疼痛。我知道这是爱。然而，我心里清楚我已经没有机会了——她脖子上戴着用来护佑婚姻的幸运项链。她结婚了——说不定还很幸福。然而，我不由地向她靠近，假装要买鱼。她警觉地朝我笑了笑，挑选了两条鲳鱼，捞出水面递给我。我设法碰了碰她柔软的双手——犹如触了电一般，一阵颤栗袭遍全身。她揶揄似的转动双眸，无声地示意“再见”，然后脚步轻快地走了。我昏昏沉沉的，以至无法跟从她，便回到自己的房间，炸了鲳鱼做早餐。不用说，味道好极了。
不久，每个周日早上，我都带着近乎宗教般的虔诚做着相同的事。她从没有错过与我的相聚——相同的地点，相同的日子，分毫不差的时间，七点整。我们依旧没有说过一句话。我太害羞了，而她或许是希望一切止步于此吧——一种美丽而缥缈的关系——这种爱如此微妙，以至一个错误的举动就可能毁掉一切。同时，我逐渐喜欢上了炸鲳鱼——鉴于我之前从不吃鱼，这确实让我很吃惊。
时间一年一年地流逝，我离开了维萨卡帕特南市，周游世界。在异国他乡，我遇见过很多漂亮的女孩，但我从没忘记她！初恋在男人的心里总占据着一个恒久的位置。
现在，近十年以后，我又回到了维萨卡帕特南市。当我沿着斜坡下山走向海滩，在我的脑海里，我依旧能生动地回想起她脸上那顽皮而矜持的神情——她那温柔的微笑和会说话的眼睛——尽管十年已经过去了。我无法再控制这不断堆积的兴奋和我心中的期望。我非常渴望能再见到她。尽管这个希望很渺茫，但我心中还是充满了期待。到达海滩后，我注意到太阳已经完全跃出海平面了。我瞥了一眼手表——快七点了。我加快脚步，几乎跑了起来，来到当年的鲜鱼市场，站在当年的位置上，那儿是我们过去常常在日出之时相聚的地方。
带着近乎焦虑的期待，我不住地颤抖，用双眼四处搜寻着。一切都没变。这个场景还和我十年前离开时一模一样。只有一样东西不见了——她不在那里！倒霉透了！我感到很沮丧，大脑一片空白。我一动不动地站在那里，满怀忧郁。忽然，我感觉到那熟悉的触电似的触碰。同样的颤抖，熟悉的战栗。它闪电般把我飞快地拽回到现实。当她把两条鲳鱼轻轻放到我手里时，我感觉自己如同飘上了七重天。
看着她，我并不失望。随着年龄的增长，她愈发美丽了。然而有什么东西的确已经改变了——是的！就是她的眼睛。她那大大的褐色双眼不再顾盼生姿，饱含揶揄了。她的眼里有一丝悲苦。当她向我无声地示意“再见”时，她那水汪汪的褐色眼睛里流露出一种温柔的酸楚。我被这突如其来的一切震呆了，这一瞬间是如此长久，我像泥塑木雕一般站在那里，不能回应，说不出一句话来。只有当她离开时我才注意到，她那细细的脖子上不再戴着那串用来护佑婚姻的幸运项链了。
Tags:爱在 日出
