At first light, we looked for the beach. The bay has advanced, says a guard pointing to a boat anchored at the end of a white expanse in the shallow water. The occupation lasts for three months. The waves splashed on the long concrete platform lit by neon lamps. A group of pilgrims, who were our fellow-travellers from Rameswaram bus stand, joins a larger crowd bathing in the sea. As the sky and sea reddens, glitters on the horizon become returning fishing vessels. Old couples bow before an elusive sun. Men in black, austere pilgrims to Sabarimala, dip in the morning sea. Decorated cows graze among pious visitors. Vendors of shells and agents of priests persuade people in front of the Ramanathaswamy temple. Bus No. 3 leaves for Dhanushkodi. After selling the early-morning catch, fisherwomen return
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