A final morning in Kanyakumari. I awoke before dawn to trek to the edge of the breakwater. The clouds forming behind the Thiruvallur stature were the first reaches of the monsoon, but due to its particular geography, Tamil Nadu is spared the oncoming precipitation, receiving the brunt of its rainfall during the monsoon's retreat later in the autumn.
At its heart, Kanyakumari is a simple fishermen's village. Past the fortune-telling parrots, past the camel rides and the tattoo artist carving the back of a man's hand by streetlight, the village proceeds at its own leisurely pace. Men weave and mend delicate fishing nets. The day's catch is arrayed on the street to dry. Distant loudspeakers from the market float the crackling sound of vintage devotional songs into the atmosphere, setting the tempo for the day.