Kanyakumari and the edge of the world

With a vague sense of accomplishment, we finally reached the windy, southernmost (never mind the Andamans) point of India: Kanyakumari… or Cape Comorin.

The beach was crammed with Indians just as excited as we were, and we clasped hands with a few people who were thrilled to see us there. Alas, it was too late to book tickets for the ferry to the Kuman Amman temple, situated on a rocky island just a few hundred meters offshore. We were leaving early next morning, so that was that.

Still, for me, it was a wonder to stand there, at the very tip of the subcontinent that is India, opposite the colossal statue of the poet Tiruvalluvar, and gaze upon the place where two vast bodies of water–the Bay of Bengal and the Indian Ocean–greet each other with a collision of waves.

I could actually see two currents, flowing from different directions straight towards the rocky outcropping shown below.

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We sat down by the water and watched the sun literally melt into the horizon of the ocean, fading from yellow to orange to pink into the purple mist, blunted by the thick haze of pollution.
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