Ah, the sea, she’s a memory keeper. In my family, we have a story of the old fisherman Bheemaji who once found a shell that sang only when the moon was full. Every night he would sit on the shore, hold the shell, and whisper his worries. The sea answered, not with words, but with a soft hum that made the waves pause. His children said the hum was the ocean’s way of saying, “Don’t fret, I’ve heard your fears.” I still keep a tiny shell in my drawer; whenever I feel the world slipping, I crack it open, and the waves’ lullaby reminds me that the ocean remembers everything we leave behind, and it’s okay to let it echo back.