Korea has been good to me. I would have love to stay longer but the beach has been summoning me. I could feel it pulling me in.
I’ve longed to relax my shoulders that have guarded me from brisk wind to welcome warm breezes. I want to turn my face to the sun, and feel the warmth on my chest. I want sticky salt soaked hair and skin, and sand everywhere. The memory of the unmistakable ocean smell has crept into my thoughts, first slowly, weekly, then daily, to hourly. I’ve become too aware of the constriction of long pants and sleeves. I want to crawl out from the fabric that traps me. India’s cultural expectations and Korea’s chilly spring weather have left me bound and layered for months. I find myself tugging at the cloth that hangs, shifts, and bunches. I can’t deny the calling. I belong in the tropics. The agitation is compounding and I feel like I might channel the incredible hulk.
It’s time to live in a bikini for a while.