Goa'06
Daashing going to Goa? What a concept. Almost impossibility. To add to the apprehension, one night before, Sid gave a news that the guest at Bagha beach extended their stay & hence we cud not go there. Here I must confess that I was scared out of my wits; not because we might have had to reschedule or rethink the trip but because the daashing wud have found another chewing gum to chew; another topic to aimlessly discuss about. Miraculously, no one pondered in that area and we were confident that we might end up somewhere in Goa!
I got my share of the snacks to be carried. It was a Pickwick biscuit packet. I guess the guys were just testing my control.
After spending that day in office somehow, I came home & did some leftover packing and started expediting. I knew, if we miss this train, we’ll have to return home & spend a boring weekend. As per the schedule we left at 23:00 sharp and made it to Thane stn by 23:15. Why didn’t things go wrong in this chaos? Something had to! And then Gau spoke up. ”Kokan railway is usually late” thus spoke our Naustordamus and I guess the railway authorities heard it too. “Kokan railway will be late by almost an hour” thus echoed announcement on the platform. Gau received a reprimand even Naustordamus must not have had to face from his contemporaries. Poor thing!!
Sharmi & Luvlesh had come to see us off. I guess they just wanted to remind us to bring daroo from Goa.
The train arrived exactly an hour late(I wonder how these railway people manage to be so punctual in keeping their delay-times). Our reservations were far apart and most of our fellow passengers were already dozing when we boarded. Bisu Sid n Mak allocated seats to everyone. I unfortunately was allocated the last seat of the compartment. For those who don’t know how special this seat is, let me explain: It is a side upper birth(5.5 ft in length. An avg Indian male is 5.7ft); it is near the door which means that the chilling breeze attacks you at night and is the entry route for potential thieves as well ;it is near the loo which mean every time the loo door opens, u are made aware of the cleanliness of railways. To add fuel to the fire, a corrupt looking man had kept his luggage on my seat & I had to sweet-talk him out of it. I hate doing that.(I guess this the price you have to pay for being the elder & bigger in a group). The above explains how sound I must‘ve slept that night.
13Jan06
At Ratnagiri most of the people got off with most of their noises & I decided not to sleep anymore. I got up, rinsed my mouth and ordered tea. I have made it a habit not to execute any daily rituals in the train. Its too yucks! So no loo, no brushing. I had a good tea. That was enough to kill my residual sleep. I set out to find out my friends & their current status. Most of them were lying down wondering what to do till everyone else gets up. Pra, Arch, Swapnil, slept as if they were on night duty for a week! I recollect the way I used to sleep when I travelled with mom and dad and I also recollect wondering why mom n dad did not sleep well in the train. Its an eye-opener to be both the “-er” and “-ee”.
The animals of daashing are very social & when in company of each other, we tend to huddle up for talks n laughs (barring a few exceptions like Gau who was looking out for Harrapan culture in the mountains passages of Kokan raiway). We forgot that Kokan railway takes us through a scenic view. We started small talk, chatting, blabbering & finally singing. Banging the bongo and berth supports we sang our way from Sindhudurg to Karmali. Other passengers were irritated and some were vociferous about it.
As the train left Thivim station, we gathered our scattered luggage, put our caps and goggles. Then we exchanged our goggles to see whether we looked better in others’ goggles. (The food always seems tastier on the neighbor’s table). I let a small pony tail hang out of my cap. I thought it was cool.
As the train touched Karmali, we alighted with our luggage. The ultimate tourist destination, the most bold & happening place, the travelers’ paradise, we were in GOA!!
We found James’ vehicle waiting for us. It was a 15 seater “City Ride” bus; a bus custom made for the daashing by TATA. It was so delightful to see a spacious traveler as against our plans of back-breaking 2 wheelers and jammed marutis. We had a driver & personal guide as well. He took us to our hotel at Miramar residency flanking the Miramar beach. We exceeded the room capacity by twice. We stayed four in a room of two; KINDLY ADJUST ing the price as well. Anyway we needed it to sleep only.
There was a girl’s common room (Pra, Pri, Gau, Arch), boy’s common room (Mak Keddu, Swapnil, Bisu) and a common room (Me, Sid, Aks, Mek)
We had a fresh round of freshening, had a light snack, and set to sight-see Goa
Our first visit was Anjuna beach and a lunch at the shacks. I was amazed to see the tanned flesh, unkempt hair and single foreigners moving around. They truly are from a different culture. I however felt a slight disgust at the sight of them; not because of their semi-nudity, but because they radiated an image of immaturity. I guess my ideas of maturity are too curbed & confined.
This was the first and the most difficult day of 2006. It was a day to live my resolution - to refrain from meat. I had to abstain the temptation of the aroma of cooked fish, the whiff of barbecued chicken, the appetizing fragrance of goan curry. I had to settle for Punjabi & tandoor cuisines. It was a typical Indian preparation. The shack was a sea facing one; an ambience better than the a/c rooms in Mumbai. Surprisingly the waiter asked for our feedback. It seems hospitality runs in a goan’s blood.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off our neighboring table. There sat 2 ladies in bold outfits. One of them had deep blue eyes and blonde hair. She looked like she had come out of a magazine.
Post lunch, I shopped for a T-shirt which read “Goa….” something . There was a lot of women-jewelry sold there. The female goan tourist is SOME species.
Even in that scorching sun we went down to the beach & clicked a few snaps. The stone there was very porous (maybe due to the sea) and burgundy in color. The patterns on the stones were wonderfully even. It was as if a rock from the sea bed was put on the shore to display. Both minute and bulky crabs were peeping out of the pores to see the human activity; and both minute and bulky humans were peering into the pores to see the crab activity.(that’s what I call “symbiotic curiosity”!) I could see a whole ecosystem on the shores of Anjuna; the sea-weeds, crabs, small insects, et al.
The non-porous rocks there seemed to be bared due to low tide. The formation of these rocks was so uniform; each layer uniformly sitting on the other and getting bound to the foundation. Even the shear and fault lines on these rocks looked like they had been cut in a precise pattern by an artisan. These may have been the pressure and impact of the rushing waves on the solid rocks. Even the puddles in the rocks (which held the cool sea-water) seemed to have been machined on a milling machine. Mak said: “Nature is so uniform; humans are disturbing its balance.”
By now we had had enough sun & sand. We decided to move on to the next location. Anjuna had taken away about 4% of our Goa-time.
“When you are in Kashmir you must play in the snow and when you are in Goa, you must purchase liquor, kokam and kaju”- that’s an old city saying. Adhering to the rules set by our ancestors, and getting an assurance from our driver n guide that they won’t touch our purchases, I bought tones of Vodka, wine, kaju and kokam sherbet. Everyone was looking suspiciously at me. Come on guyz I thought; this is a ritual any Goa going guy to has to go through.
Our next destination was Calangute. (This name somehow seemed to be derived from Colgate!! … ….anyways). Calangute was the CST of Goa-very crowded. People flocked there in swarms; stripping down to swim wear and either tanning themselves in the sun or drenching themselves in the sea water. I chose the latter. But before that , I with Mek, Aks, Sid made some sand structures. Looking at the proportion & shape of those, I was ashamed of calling myself an engineer. I had a round of catch ball with Bisu. I remember us doing this when we were kids….old memories…!!
Under peer pressure, I tattooed my arm with a sun & a aum. The tatooer was a skilled guy! By the time we were done and dragging ourselves to the bus, some of the gals still had the enthu to window-shop. As I told Bisu “Shopping is a curse to the human race” (especially at times like these).
No one had the energy left to even small-talk. We returned to our rooms and had a relaxing, hot shower. It was B L I S S!! While I arranged cups & beverages for our late night daroo party, people booked tables for us to dine. I had a light dinner. I was already enjoying the vodka which we were to have. Post dinner, everyone wanted a walk on Miramar beach. I don’t understand this; isn’t a sandy land close to any water body just the same anywhere in this universe? But people had to be at all the beaches! I pulled my tired body on the soft and cold sand. We were in our night dresses & people would wear that to bed, but they had to sit down on that sand! When will people realize that “Phukat is not always paushtik!!”
We assembled in the BCR for drinks and most of us indulged in intoxication. Keddu contacted the wine bottle to his lips and did not let go for a long time. His behavior from then on was very predictable. There would just be bursts of short sentences from him & then he would go back to staring into empty space. Once a while he would put the bottle to his lips and repeat the cycle. After a few cycles, he put is head on the pillow, face down, and would get up suddenly with bloodshot eyes. Keddu was DRUNK!! Swapnil seemed to enjoy each sip; but a few sips made his world go in circles too. I had one large vodka and then I enjoyed the whirling of my brain. But my senses could take much moiré than just that large peg. Mek Arch & Sid tickled their taste buds too! The other soft drinkers had multiple rounds of Pepsi & cheeselings. Bisu just quietly put his head down and slept (just like an obedient wife who silently discourages the drinking practices of her husband). Gau was enjoying sips of all alcohols. She must have had more than me I guess! The last I remember of that night is the dimly lit BCR-turned-bar; people lying here & there, some giggling, some dozing, some boozing, and some wishing that this would not happen ever again!
14Jan06
Keeping true to our reputation, we started late by an hour and half that morning. The guide ditched us that day! Maybe he got a more punctual offer somewhere else.
We headed for Dona Paula which was a 5min drive from Miramar. We saw lots of tourists looking as lost as me at that place because Dona Paula only had a statue of an armless couple looking away from each other and a roofless structure overlooking the sea perched on top of a hill. (The only thing that should attract tourist there is the cleanliness.) We then moved to James’ office and made the payment emerging out as if we had bargained on a billion dollar deal. (We actually spent about Rs 100/- extra per head).
The bus driver (God knows why no one knew his name) then took us to Francis church. We saw the majesty of the structure and Mak made his civil point “look at the largeness of the structure. Wonder how it must have been designed”. We saw the mummified corpse of Saint Francis perched on top of a platform. We proceeded to see an art gallery of the contemporary drawings of The Saint. They were extremely abstract and partially unfathomable. I was very skeptical about this painting stuff and then I saw a flaw.(I m a QA man!!) If the paintings were of the Saint’s era, why was the picture of India in one painting not having Afghanistan, Burma, Bangladesh etc? I hated these guys for misleading tourists.
The next in line was an archeology-of-India museum & since Gau was with us, I saw many fingers crossed. To our delight the museum was not so elaborate. It had canvas paintings of all the Portuguese Governors/viceroys in chronology. I doubt wether they too were real governors or junior artists from Sanjay Khans’s team dressed for roles!! One thing was prevalent in the paintings: the Governors of the 1500’s seemed very young (30’s or 40’s) whereas the ones from 20th century looked old (50’s). I guess competition & politics grew a lot with time in the Portuguese army.
The ground floor of the museum was decorated with an eclectic collection of stones that seemed to have no connection with Goa or the Portuguese. (There were Sanskrit & Arabic inscriptions on these stones). Another wall showcased the need for awareness of archeology in India. There was a TV showing some archeological matter which no one bothered to look at.
Hunting again for our bus, we moved on the shadeless road of Goa. To our relief there came a “limbu paani wala” and “naariyal paani wala”. God bless these angels. After quenching our parched throats, we set out on a tirthyaatra to Mangeshi.
The temple was calm, quiet, clean & divine. We sat on the cool marble floor for a while. There came a good looking lady who was trying to give an impression of being in her 20’s but nature was being unkind to her. The amount of makeup she had on was truly head-turning. Her face seemed familiar. She was Nishiganha Waadh. I saw her from a distance and sought blessings of this devi after lord Mageshi.
Outside the temple, everyone was thirsty and somewhat hungry again. To our good fortune, there were hawker girls with cucumbers and some unheard fruit (which looked like dhodka and tasted like kairi!)
Our next destination was Shanta Durga. People insisted on visiting the temple before lunch.(The non-veggies had a pang of guilt may-be ). Before entering the temple, Pri was blabbering something about something and I was disgusted at her ignorance of that subject. I tried to explain her stuff but it was like hitting the head on the wall. We picked up a small argument. Its fun to argue with Pri because u know that at the end of it, she won’t bear any grudges against you. And neither wont you against her. She’s too cute for that.
Shanta Durga was similar in construction to Mangeshi; the red & white plastered wall, the deep-stambha at the entrance, an equi-spaced compound wall, et al. After that dharshan, we clicked snaps of Pri, Pra n Swapnil in comical poses. They looked like three stances of the Natraja doing his Tandava (The daashing madness grows every year!!)
For lunch we had no eating joint in the vicinity except for hotel ShantaDurga which seemed worse that Hotel Shanghai. But the Kaju curry was just lip smacking…hot and tasty!
“Every Daashing meal must include a dessert” –Anonymous.
So we had different ice-creams from the ice-cream waala. (Some local kulfis packaged like international brands)
The peculiar thing in this trip was everyone was anticipating something OR had a craving for something: some just wanted to chill out; some just wanted to shop; some just wanted to booze (guess who??); some just wanted to see new places; and the worst was some just wanted to be in water all the time! Anything we did was not above “drenching in the sea”!! Why? I ask, why? Doesn’t the salty water irritate you? Doesn’t the sandy remains in the clothes ‘yuck’ you? Doesn’t the staying-wet-till-we-go-home disgust you? Doesn’t the changing clothes in front of a crowd embarrass you? Have you never been in a water body before? I want to tell this to all those people who find NO as an answer to the above questions: The beach is place where you sit and watch the sea, the rhythm, the power; feel the hypnotism of its sound, be in a state of eternal bliss. Leave drenching in the sea to our other mammal friends (whales)!
But to whom can I say these words of plea
For all my friends want to drench in the sea!!
Kolva beach! Water sports! Fun! Blah, blah, blah….. that was all was hearing when Pra & Pri were describing that place. I was already in low spirits and the fun sports advertisers were really pissing me off with their stupid offers. But Keddu, Bisu, Swapnil, Pra n Pri went for para-sailing. They even paid for a changing room. Hope they liked the flight; hope they enjoyed being on top of the world (literally) and being overwhelmed by the vastness of Arabian sea below them. Mek, Aks, Gau, Sid were busy making the sand structures. Chaddi, Mak & Arch walked into the shallow waters. I was sitting there wondering why this place not so exciting & why am I not frolicking with the guyz. I never found answers to these but when it was time to go, we rushed to the bus. We had to make it to the cruise by 7:00 or else…
The name was “Santa Monica” and when we made it to the cruise counter, we saw a long queue of people with a glint of enthu & anticipation in their eyes. There was a poster of Santa Monica with ballet dancers shown. I was already bored; God! What was in store for us?
Somewhere over the people’s head, I saw a lighted structure float by. That was “Santa Monica” dressed in lights on that moonlit night. As we boarded it we saw chairs arranged neatly facing an elevated stage. At the rear of the deck was a medium sized bar. The boat was well lit and resembled a dance club. This was the first time I was on cruise and I wondered whether this was a good idea. But since we had already paid for it, I had nothing to lose.
The show started with a young man comparing the show. He explained the evening’s agenda and called forth all the kids on the stage cum dance-floor. I was wondering whether our antics would qualify us as kids?. All the small children danced on a dance number. Then a dance troop of four did a Goan number in stage. We equated the boy among them to Swapnil as his move as graceful as Swapnil’s. Then was the turn of the couples to take the dance floor. One of the couple swayed in an extra romantic manner. Most of the Daashers got scandalized I guess. A guy with a large girlfriend/wife and with his large tummy enthralled the audience by doing “Aap ki kashish…” I guess that guy thought himself to be Rishi Kapoor+Hritik(and he was very remote form both these legends). But we enjoyed his dance a lot and we also requested a “once more”. Later we found out that this couple had checked in the same hotel as ours. The compare then called forth the men on stage. When that dance began I felt as if I was back home in Mumbai and looking at Thane station at 18:00 hrs. (The government must include dancing as a subject in school).
When it was time for girls to take the stage, Pra, Pri, Arch & Gau formed a group on stage and danced to “Koi kahe…”.
At the end & to our relief the compare asked everyone to stack up the chairs in the corner and dance. So we did our regular stuff. These last five minutes of the cruise made up for the horrible time we had there. One Chinese/Japanese/Korean/Naga/Mizo gal liked Sid’s dance and complemented him. I guess she even waited for him to give his number but poor Sid…. I guess he was too nervous to make any advances.
In the cruise, the swaying of the boat made me feel a nausea. I felt the same way I was feeling last night with a vodka in me. Sea-sickness!!!
On the way home, we stopped by a daroo-shop & stuffed our baggage with liquor. Mak got darlings for us(that is a name of a chocolate.) It was heaven!
We drove home, changed & started dinner. At the diner table while we were waiting for food, I got Mak into a conversation about his new job profile. I liked the way he put it : “I had many offers as a site engineer. But I chose this one for my P.M profile. ” MBA puts in a lot of attitude into you! Sid was looking at us and wondering if we were having a very intellectual converstion. Gau went to the length of calling this a pretension. She said that we were showing the world that there is no cold war between us.
Unlike yesterday’s experience, I had full good meal. While the guyz went for an ice cream, I chaddi n Sid made preps for our daroo party. Chaddi had got some juices for cocktails which he learnt in his college. I even heard that chaddi is a strong drinker(we call such people “taaki”.)
After everyone settled down in the room, our very own bartender made cock/mocktails for everyone. I was really amazed at the confidence he was showing at such a raw age. While some started cards, some started chat, Keddu n Swapnil wanted to see the Dance divas on TV. They were taking this “sharaab n shabaab” thing too far. To our misfortune, the show finished and we had to switch off the TV.
As the drinks advanced and the intoxication got on us, people started behaving more freely. Keddu had double rounds of feni(the worst of alcohols) which made him like he was last night. Gau , Mek n Arch were repeating rounds of wine and juices; Gau being their leader. I kept repeating my vodka till I had almost a quarter.
Gradually the entropy in that room started rising and the alcohol was adding to the effect. We decided to move outside; and what better place could’ve been than the beach. It was a cold night but I was very comfortable in those skimpy clothes which I was wearing. The walk to the sear shore demanded crossing a small stretch of sand. In that state, even the walk in that smooth sand felt extensive and agonizing. Keeping the daashing tradition alive, people settled down on the beach in their night clothes and started playing in the sand.
It was really peculiar to see everyone’s behavior in that situation. Gau and Sid were strolling the length of the beach discussing some topic weird which none of us might have found interesting. Mak made a few comments about how he hates the noise of the sea and how scary the sea is at this hour. He then got back to socializing. Bisu was sitting in his UP(udaas parvaa) position and making some observations about the tides, the stars in the sky , the floating lights on the horizon and the shuttling ships. Mek n Aks were huddled up in a corner and were indulging in girl talk. Arch n Chaddi were staring at the sea & thinking something. Maybe they were recollecting some old romantic memories of their respective lives. The others were making some sand heaps and trying to make sense out of what they made. I heard occasional bursts of laughter from them.
Since I had never been on a sea shore at 3:00 am, I was making some observations myself. The beach was very dark except for the full moon overhead showering its cold light and endowing us with a meager vision. Everything was dead silent; one could hear only the cold breeze biting one’s ears. Rhythmically, the sea waves made a scary crashing noise and foaming the shore. And it was accentuated by the darkness. That really gave me the creeps. I got away from the gang and stood there alone. I just wanted to face my fear.
I have heard somewhere that if you just keep staring at the sea, it mesmerizes you and pulls you toward it. I felt the same desire lurking into me. I felt the urge to walk into the sea till it takes me in. Then suddenly realizing what crazy idea was grabbing me, I shook out of it. At times I just wanted to take a giant leap a fly across that ocean in that dead frightful night. Looking at it in hindsight, I tremble in my shoes. Maybe it was my urge to kill the fear that was daring me to conquer it; maybe it was just the vodka.
Seeing so many moods arising out of a single event (i.e.the night at sea-shore), I set my mental machinery into thinking of how people of various professions would react to this circumstance. A scientist would think of the vast energy the waves posse & how man can tap it. An astronomer would look at what day and month it is and try to locate which constellation is at what location at this hour. A meteorologist would look at the position of moon, the date & the wind and predict the weather of a week. An engineer would look at how the knowledge of fluid mechanics has helped him navigate the sea by construction of raft and boats. A poet would make comparisons of this beautiful creation of nature to supreme pleasure and ecstasy. An author would weave a plot on this dark night and shell out a murder mystery. A business man would see the immense potential of the place to attract people and hence attract money. So many endless possibilities!! I could go like this for hours!
Pra asked whether I was getting senti over my ex-gf. I wanted to tell her this: “How can a quarter of a vodka, a tiring day, a cold scary beach recall you of ur ‘ex’. It could only take you to your worst fear.” But I said nothing of this sort. I simply diverted the topic to earthly affairs like education, career, blah, blah, blah! Even if I had told her what I was thinking of, she couldn’t have empathized with it any ways.
When the beach got too much, we started back to our rooms to get some sleep. But to our good fortune, some vodka was still shimmering in the transparent bottle and we didn’t have the nerve to keep it untouched. So we did some bottoms up & finished the fluid. We retracted to our rooms with faded enthusiasms and tired bodies. Some of us had the audacity to declare that we will have a walk on the beach tomorrow morning (if we see the morning that is).
I woke up at 6:00 and wondered whether it would be a good idea to take a stroll on the beach. Then I saw the people around me deep in their sleeps. I didn’t have the courage to disturb their pleasure. So I joined them & pulled a blanket over myself.
The next I remember, it was 10:00a.m and chaddi was frolicking in the room all by himself. He was getting ready to leave but wanted to make sure everyone else had woken up before that. So he took up the evil task of knocking on each room and waking people up. Bisu woke up, took the empty vodka bottles, placed them besides people who were sleeping and clicked some snaps.
Everyone got ready by the scheduled time (12:00), had brunch at the hotel and left for Thivim. We also had a round at Baskin Robbins ….bliss. In the bus, we did the regular singing and hammering.
On reaching Thivim, we saw a Janashatabdi cruising onto the platform. That scared the wits out of us till we realized that it was the Goa bound train instead of the Mumbai bound one. Unloading ourselves on the platform we sat down to play cards, to listen to music, to relax. When the official announcement came that the train is an hour late, we settled ourselves and a team of enthu people amongst us set out to explore the surroundings. Later I heard that they clicked some weird snaps too.
When the train came and when we boarded it, the first thing people did was to capture the window seats. I got my seat and started documenting the expenses. I was worried that I had not recovered what I had spent. After some mental math, I came to the conclusion that I had overshot the budget. “Never mind”, I told myself; it was not so bad. Recovering from the financial loss, I joined the gang to lend a hand to their madness. On one side of the seats, people were torturing Pra and on the other side, the victim was Keddu. I had the look at the scene, then a look at the co-passengers, and then a surge of pity for them ran down me. I made a silent apology for the sad time they were going to have and plunged into the stupidity.
As the train picked up speed, the daashers picked up more energy. We played antaxari and we sang only those songs for which we knew at least one stanza. It was like re-living the time we had at Karjat. When the energy died down, when the sun had set and when the lights in the train were switched on, we mellowed a little. We started a round of SAD songs. Swapnil was the happiest to be a part of this I guess. We sang and sang in pseudo-melodious, pseudo-harsh voices. The other passengers were pseudo-marveling and pseudo-condemning this event.
We saw a hardcore hippie (he looked like a native of Uzbekistan) with flowing hair bound by a small cap, a lose shirt, a slack like trouser, and chappals as footwear. I also reprimanded him for smoking in train. He said he doesn’t know English(and he said this in English). Some of the local boys were mocking him.
To our relief, the chaiwaalas and soupwaalas were making their regular entry and helping us sooth out parched & cracked throats. We sang till the dinner boy got us insipid vegetable and tasteless biryani. The preparation had un-peeled vegetables, lots of unbreakable spices and immeasurable oil.
Post-dinner, some of us played “Ud-Ud”. To our surprise, Mek was the central pole which melted when the any player of the game took time to think before acting. And when the pole melted, each player doubled the number of his fingers put in the game. (Know one questioned why a pole should be used in the game; everyone was just laughing their brains out).
When this game got the better off us, we cuddled up near Pri and clicked snaps which resembled Picasso. We even called her Picasso’s Mona Lisa.
Somewhere in the journey, all the guys gathered around me, collected strings of my hair and started making hair locks. Again we clicked some snaps there. I guess I must’ve looked like Obelix!
After eight hours of fun-filled journey, we got down at Thane station. We walked out confidently with alcohols in our bags. We saw a couple being stopped for getting their luggage checked. We were home after three days of enjoyment.
Whenever I think of Goa & I look back on the trip, I think I’ll remember only a few things:
The awkward sleep in Kokan kanya; the soothing wind in the shacks of Anjuna and the blue-eyed lady on our neighboring table; the tattoo at Calangute; the night at Miramar beach; and the madness in Janashatabdi; the clean streets of Goa; Goa- the hub of tourism in India, my control against the craving of eating meat; pegs of vodka; expression of EXULT !
These memories will be archived as BEST DAYS OF MY LIFE!
I got my share of the snacks to be carried. It was a Pickwick biscuit packet. I guess the guys were just testing my control.
After spending that day in office somehow, I came home & did some leftover packing and started expediting. I knew, if we miss this train, we’ll have to return home & spend a boring weekend. As per the schedule we left at 23:00 sharp and made it to Thane stn by 23:15. Why didn’t things go wrong in this chaos? Something had to! And then Gau spoke up. ”Kokan railway is usually late” thus spoke our Naustordamus and I guess the railway authorities heard it too. “Kokan railway will be late by almost an hour” thus echoed announcement on the platform. Gau received a reprimand even Naustordamus must not have had to face from his contemporaries. Poor thing!!
Sharmi & Luvlesh had come to see us off. I guess they just wanted to remind us to bring daroo from Goa.
The train arrived exactly an hour late(I wonder how these railway people manage to be so punctual in keeping their delay-times). Our reservations were far apart and most of our fellow passengers were already dozing when we boarded. Bisu Sid n Mak allocated seats to everyone. I unfortunately was allocated the last seat of the compartment. For those who don’t know how special this seat is, let me explain: It is a side upper birth(5.5 ft in length. An avg Indian male is 5.7ft); it is near the door which means that the chilling breeze attacks you at night and is the entry route for potential thieves as well ;it is near the loo which mean every time the loo door opens, u are made aware of the cleanliness of railways. To add fuel to the fire, a corrupt looking man had kept his luggage on my seat & I had to sweet-talk him out of it. I hate doing that.(I guess this the price you have to pay for being the elder & bigger in a group). The above explains how sound I must‘ve slept that night.
13Jan06
At Ratnagiri most of the people got off with most of their noises & I decided not to sleep anymore. I got up, rinsed my mouth and ordered tea. I have made it a habit not to execute any daily rituals in the train. Its too yucks! So no loo, no brushing. I had a good tea. That was enough to kill my residual sleep. I set out to find out my friends & their current status. Most of them were lying down wondering what to do till everyone else gets up. Pra, Arch, Swapnil, slept as if they were on night duty for a week! I recollect the way I used to sleep when I travelled with mom and dad and I also recollect wondering why mom n dad did not sleep well in the train. Its an eye-opener to be both the “-er” and “-ee”.
The animals of daashing are very social & when in company of each other, we tend to huddle up for talks n laughs (barring a few exceptions like Gau who was looking out for Harrapan culture in the mountains passages of Kokan raiway). We forgot that Kokan railway takes us through a scenic view. We started small talk, chatting, blabbering & finally singing. Banging the bongo and berth supports we sang our way from Sindhudurg to Karmali. Other passengers were irritated and some were vociferous about it.
As the train left Thivim station, we gathered our scattered luggage, put our caps and goggles. Then we exchanged our goggles to see whether we looked better in others’ goggles. (The food always seems tastier on the neighbor’s table). I let a small pony tail hang out of my cap. I thought it was cool.
As the train touched Karmali, we alighted with our luggage. The ultimate tourist destination, the most bold & happening place, the travelers’ paradise, we were in GOA!!
We found James’ vehicle waiting for us. It was a 15 seater “City Ride” bus; a bus custom made for the daashing by TATA. It was so delightful to see a spacious traveler as against our plans of back-breaking 2 wheelers and jammed marutis. We had a driver & personal guide as well. He took us to our hotel at Miramar residency flanking the Miramar beach. We exceeded the room capacity by twice. We stayed four in a room of two; KINDLY ADJUST ing the price as well. Anyway we needed it to sleep only.
There was a girl’s common room (Pra, Pri, Gau, Arch), boy’s common room (Mak Keddu, Swapnil, Bisu) and a common room (Me, Sid, Aks, Mek)
We had a fresh round of freshening, had a light snack, and set to sight-see Goa
Our first visit was Anjuna beach and a lunch at the shacks. I was amazed to see the tanned flesh, unkempt hair and single foreigners moving around. They truly are from a different culture. I however felt a slight disgust at the sight of them; not because of their semi-nudity, but because they radiated an image of immaturity. I guess my ideas of maturity are too curbed & confined.
This was the first and the most difficult day of 2006. It was a day to live my resolution - to refrain from meat. I had to abstain the temptation of the aroma of cooked fish, the whiff of barbecued chicken, the appetizing fragrance of goan curry. I had to settle for Punjabi & tandoor cuisines. It was a typical Indian preparation. The shack was a sea facing one; an ambience better than the a/c rooms in Mumbai. Surprisingly the waiter asked for our feedback. It seems hospitality runs in a goan’s blood.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off our neighboring table. There sat 2 ladies in bold outfits. One of them had deep blue eyes and blonde hair. She looked like she had come out of a magazine.
Post lunch, I shopped for a T-shirt which read “Goa….” something . There was a lot of women-jewelry sold there. The female goan tourist is SOME species.
Even in that scorching sun we went down to the beach & clicked a few snaps. The stone there was very porous (maybe due to the sea) and burgundy in color. The patterns on the stones were wonderfully even. It was as if a rock from the sea bed was put on the shore to display. Both minute and bulky crabs were peeping out of the pores to see the human activity; and both minute and bulky humans were peering into the pores to see the crab activity.(that’s what I call “symbiotic curiosity”!) I could see a whole ecosystem on the shores of Anjuna; the sea-weeds, crabs, small insects, et al.
The non-porous rocks there seemed to be bared due to low tide. The formation of these rocks was so uniform; each layer uniformly sitting on the other and getting bound to the foundation. Even the shear and fault lines on these rocks looked like they had been cut in a precise pattern by an artisan. These may have been the pressure and impact of the rushing waves on the solid rocks. Even the puddles in the rocks (which held the cool sea-water) seemed to have been machined on a milling machine. Mak said: “Nature is so uniform; humans are disturbing its balance.”
By now we had had enough sun & sand. We decided to move on to the next location. Anjuna had taken away about 4% of our Goa-time.
“When you are in Kashmir you must play in the snow and when you are in Goa, you must purchase liquor, kokam and kaju”- that’s an old city saying. Adhering to the rules set by our ancestors, and getting an assurance from our driver n guide that they won’t touch our purchases, I bought tones of Vodka, wine, kaju and kokam sherbet. Everyone was looking suspiciously at me. Come on guyz I thought; this is a ritual any Goa going guy to has to go through.
Our next destination was Calangute. (This name somehow seemed to be derived from Colgate!! … ….anyways). Calangute was the CST of Goa-very crowded. People flocked there in swarms; stripping down to swim wear and either tanning themselves in the sun or drenching themselves in the sea water. I chose the latter. But before that , I with Mek, Aks, Sid made some sand structures. Looking at the proportion & shape of those, I was ashamed of calling myself an engineer. I had a round of catch ball with Bisu. I remember us doing this when we were kids….old memories…!!
Under peer pressure, I tattooed my arm with a sun & a aum. The tatooer was a skilled guy! By the time we were done and dragging ourselves to the bus, some of the gals still had the enthu to window-shop. As I told Bisu “Shopping is a curse to the human race” (especially at times like these).
No one had the energy left to even small-talk. We returned to our rooms and had a relaxing, hot shower. It was B L I S S!! While I arranged cups & beverages for our late night daroo party, people booked tables for us to dine. I had a light dinner. I was already enjoying the vodka which we were to have. Post dinner, everyone wanted a walk on Miramar beach. I don’t understand this; isn’t a sandy land close to any water body just the same anywhere in this universe? But people had to be at all the beaches! I pulled my tired body on the soft and cold sand. We were in our night dresses & people would wear that to bed, but they had to sit down on that sand! When will people realize that “Phukat is not always paushtik!!”
We assembled in the BCR for drinks and most of us indulged in intoxication. Keddu contacted the wine bottle to his lips and did not let go for a long time. His behavior from then on was very predictable. There would just be bursts of short sentences from him & then he would go back to staring into empty space. Once a while he would put the bottle to his lips and repeat the cycle. After a few cycles, he put is head on the pillow, face down, and would get up suddenly with bloodshot eyes. Keddu was DRUNK!! Swapnil seemed to enjoy each sip; but a few sips made his world go in circles too. I had one large vodka and then I enjoyed the whirling of my brain. But my senses could take much moiré than just that large peg. Mek Arch & Sid tickled their taste buds too! The other soft drinkers had multiple rounds of Pepsi & cheeselings. Bisu just quietly put his head down and slept (just like an obedient wife who silently discourages the drinking practices of her husband). Gau was enjoying sips of all alcohols. She must have had more than me I guess! The last I remember of that night is the dimly lit BCR-turned-bar; people lying here & there, some giggling, some dozing, some boozing, and some wishing that this would not happen ever again!
14Jan06
Keeping true to our reputation, we started late by an hour and half that morning. The guide ditched us that day! Maybe he got a more punctual offer somewhere else.
We headed for Dona Paula which was a 5min drive from Miramar. We saw lots of tourists looking as lost as me at that place because Dona Paula only had a statue of an armless couple looking away from each other and a roofless structure overlooking the sea perched on top of a hill. (The only thing that should attract tourist there is the cleanliness.) We then moved to James’ office and made the payment emerging out as if we had bargained on a billion dollar deal. (We actually spent about Rs 100/- extra per head).
The bus driver (God knows why no one knew his name) then took us to Francis church. We saw the majesty of the structure and Mak made his civil point “look at the largeness of the structure. Wonder how it must have been designed”. We saw the mummified corpse of Saint Francis perched on top of a platform. We proceeded to see an art gallery of the contemporary drawings of The Saint. They were extremely abstract and partially unfathomable. I was very skeptical about this painting stuff and then I saw a flaw.(I m a QA man!!) If the paintings were of the Saint’s era, why was the picture of India in one painting not having Afghanistan, Burma, Bangladesh etc? I hated these guys for misleading tourists.
The next in line was an archeology-of-India museum & since Gau was with us, I saw many fingers crossed. To our delight the museum was not so elaborate. It had canvas paintings of all the Portuguese Governors/viceroys in chronology. I doubt wether they too were real governors or junior artists from Sanjay Khans’s team dressed for roles!! One thing was prevalent in the paintings: the Governors of the 1500’s seemed very young (30’s or 40’s) whereas the ones from 20th century looked old (50’s). I guess competition & politics grew a lot with time in the Portuguese army.
The ground floor of the museum was decorated with an eclectic collection of stones that seemed to have no connection with Goa or the Portuguese. (There were Sanskrit & Arabic inscriptions on these stones). Another wall showcased the need for awareness of archeology in India. There was a TV showing some archeological matter which no one bothered to look at.
Hunting again for our bus, we moved on the shadeless road of Goa. To our relief there came a “limbu paani wala” and “naariyal paani wala”. God bless these angels. After quenching our parched throats, we set out on a tirthyaatra to Mangeshi.
The temple was calm, quiet, clean & divine. We sat on the cool marble floor for a while. There came a good looking lady who was trying to give an impression of being in her 20’s but nature was being unkind to her. The amount of makeup she had on was truly head-turning. Her face seemed familiar. She was Nishiganha Waadh. I saw her from a distance and sought blessings of this devi after lord Mageshi.
Outside the temple, everyone was thirsty and somewhat hungry again. To our good fortune, there were hawker girls with cucumbers and some unheard fruit (which looked like dhodka and tasted like kairi!)
Our next destination was Shanta Durga. People insisted on visiting the temple before lunch.(The non-veggies had a pang of guilt may-be ). Before entering the temple, Pri was blabbering something about something and I was disgusted at her ignorance of that subject. I tried to explain her stuff but it was like hitting the head on the wall. We picked up a small argument. Its fun to argue with Pri because u know that at the end of it, she won’t bear any grudges against you. And neither wont you against her. She’s too cute for that.
Shanta Durga was similar in construction to Mangeshi; the red & white plastered wall, the deep-stambha at the entrance, an equi-spaced compound wall, et al. After that dharshan, we clicked snaps of Pri, Pra n Swapnil in comical poses. They looked like three stances of the Natraja doing his Tandava (The daashing madness grows every year!!)
For lunch we had no eating joint in the vicinity except for hotel ShantaDurga which seemed worse that Hotel Shanghai. But the Kaju curry was just lip smacking…hot and tasty!
“Every Daashing meal must include a dessert” –Anonymous.
So we had different ice-creams from the ice-cream waala. (Some local kulfis packaged like international brands)
The peculiar thing in this trip was everyone was anticipating something OR had a craving for something: some just wanted to chill out; some just wanted to shop; some just wanted to booze (guess who??); some just wanted to see new places; and the worst was some just wanted to be in water all the time! Anything we did was not above “drenching in the sea”!! Why? I ask, why? Doesn’t the salty water irritate you? Doesn’t the sandy remains in the clothes ‘yuck’ you? Doesn’t the staying-wet-till-we-go-home disgust you? Doesn’t the changing clothes in front of a crowd embarrass you? Have you never been in a water body before? I want to tell this to all those people who find NO as an answer to the above questions: The beach is place where you sit and watch the sea, the rhythm, the power; feel the hypnotism of its sound, be in a state of eternal bliss. Leave drenching in the sea to our other mammal friends (whales)!
But to whom can I say these words of plea
For all my friends want to drench in the sea!!
Kolva beach! Water sports! Fun! Blah, blah, blah….. that was all was hearing when Pra & Pri were describing that place. I was already in low spirits and the fun sports advertisers were really pissing me off with their stupid offers. But Keddu, Bisu, Swapnil, Pra n Pri went for para-sailing. They even paid for a changing room. Hope they liked the flight; hope they enjoyed being on top of the world (literally) and being overwhelmed by the vastness of Arabian sea below them. Mek, Aks, Gau, Sid were busy making the sand structures. Chaddi, Mak & Arch walked into the shallow waters. I was sitting there wondering why this place not so exciting & why am I not frolicking with the guyz. I never found answers to these but when it was time to go, we rushed to the bus. We had to make it to the cruise by 7:00 or else…
The name was “Santa Monica” and when we made it to the cruise counter, we saw a long queue of people with a glint of enthu & anticipation in their eyes. There was a poster of Santa Monica with ballet dancers shown. I was already bored; God! What was in store for us?
Somewhere over the people’s head, I saw a lighted structure float by. That was “Santa Monica” dressed in lights on that moonlit night. As we boarded it we saw chairs arranged neatly facing an elevated stage. At the rear of the deck was a medium sized bar. The boat was well lit and resembled a dance club. This was the first time I was on cruise and I wondered whether this was a good idea. But since we had already paid for it, I had nothing to lose.
The show started with a young man comparing the show. He explained the evening’s agenda and called forth all the kids on the stage cum dance-floor. I was wondering whether our antics would qualify us as kids?. All the small children danced on a dance number. Then a dance troop of four did a Goan number in stage. We equated the boy among them to Swapnil as his move as graceful as Swapnil’s. Then was the turn of the couples to take the dance floor. One of the couple swayed in an extra romantic manner. Most of the Daashers got scandalized I guess. A guy with a large girlfriend/wife and with his large tummy enthralled the audience by doing “Aap ki kashish…” I guess that guy thought himself to be Rishi Kapoor+Hritik(and he was very remote form both these legends). But we enjoyed his dance a lot and we also requested a “once more”. Later we found out that this couple had checked in the same hotel as ours. The compare then called forth the men on stage. When that dance began I felt as if I was back home in Mumbai and looking at Thane station at 18:00 hrs. (The government must include dancing as a subject in school).
When it was time for girls to take the stage, Pra, Pri, Arch & Gau formed a group on stage and danced to “Koi kahe…”.
At the end & to our relief the compare asked everyone to stack up the chairs in the corner and dance. So we did our regular stuff. These last five minutes of the cruise made up for the horrible time we had there. One Chinese/Japanese/Korean/Naga/Mizo gal liked Sid’s dance and complemented him. I guess she even waited for him to give his number but poor Sid…. I guess he was too nervous to make any advances.
In the cruise, the swaying of the boat made me feel a nausea. I felt the same way I was feeling last night with a vodka in me. Sea-sickness!!!
On the way home, we stopped by a daroo-shop & stuffed our baggage with liquor. Mak got darlings for us(that is a name of a chocolate.) It was heaven!
We drove home, changed & started dinner. At the diner table while we were waiting for food, I got Mak into a conversation about his new job profile. I liked the way he put it : “I had many offers as a site engineer. But I chose this one for my P.M profile. ” MBA puts in a lot of attitude into you! Sid was looking at us and wondering if we were having a very intellectual converstion. Gau went to the length of calling this a pretension. She said that we were showing the world that there is no cold war between us.
Unlike yesterday’s experience, I had full good meal. While the guyz went for an ice cream, I chaddi n Sid made preps for our daroo party. Chaddi had got some juices for cocktails which he learnt in his college. I even heard that chaddi is a strong drinker(we call such people “taaki”.)
After everyone settled down in the room, our very own bartender made cock/mocktails for everyone. I was really amazed at the confidence he was showing at such a raw age. While some started cards, some started chat, Keddu n Swapnil wanted to see the Dance divas on TV. They were taking this “sharaab n shabaab” thing too far. To our misfortune, the show finished and we had to switch off the TV.
As the drinks advanced and the intoxication got on us, people started behaving more freely. Keddu had double rounds of feni(the worst of alcohols) which made him like he was last night. Gau , Mek n Arch were repeating rounds of wine and juices; Gau being their leader. I kept repeating my vodka till I had almost a quarter.
Gradually the entropy in that room started rising and the alcohol was adding to the effect. We decided to move outside; and what better place could’ve been than the beach. It was a cold night but I was very comfortable in those skimpy clothes which I was wearing. The walk to the sear shore demanded crossing a small stretch of sand. In that state, even the walk in that smooth sand felt extensive and agonizing. Keeping the daashing tradition alive, people settled down on the beach in their night clothes and started playing in the sand.
It was really peculiar to see everyone’s behavior in that situation. Gau and Sid were strolling the length of the beach discussing some topic weird which none of us might have found interesting. Mak made a few comments about how he hates the noise of the sea and how scary the sea is at this hour. He then got back to socializing. Bisu was sitting in his UP(udaas parvaa) position and making some observations about the tides, the stars in the sky , the floating lights on the horizon and the shuttling ships. Mek n Aks were huddled up in a corner and were indulging in girl talk. Arch n Chaddi were staring at the sea & thinking something. Maybe they were recollecting some old romantic memories of their respective lives. The others were making some sand heaps and trying to make sense out of what they made. I heard occasional bursts of laughter from them.
Since I had never been on a sea shore at 3:00 am, I was making some observations myself. The beach was very dark except for the full moon overhead showering its cold light and endowing us with a meager vision. Everything was dead silent; one could hear only the cold breeze biting one’s ears. Rhythmically, the sea waves made a scary crashing noise and foaming the shore. And it was accentuated by the darkness. That really gave me the creeps. I got away from the gang and stood there alone. I just wanted to face my fear.
I have heard somewhere that if you just keep staring at the sea, it mesmerizes you and pulls you toward it. I felt the same desire lurking into me. I felt the urge to walk into the sea till it takes me in. Then suddenly realizing what crazy idea was grabbing me, I shook out of it. At times I just wanted to take a giant leap a fly across that ocean in that dead frightful night. Looking at it in hindsight, I tremble in my shoes. Maybe it was my urge to kill the fear that was daring me to conquer it; maybe it was just the vodka.
Seeing so many moods arising out of a single event (i.e.the night at sea-shore), I set my mental machinery into thinking of how people of various professions would react to this circumstance. A scientist would think of the vast energy the waves posse & how man can tap it. An astronomer would look at what day and month it is and try to locate which constellation is at what location at this hour. A meteorologist would look at the position of moon, the date & the wind and predict the weather of a week. An engineer would look at how the knowledge of fluid mechanics has helped him navigate the sea by construction of raft and boats. A poet would make comparisons of this beautiful creation of nature to supreme pleasure and ecstasy. An author would weave a plot on this dark night and shell out a murder mystery. A business man would see the immense potential of the place to attract people and hence attract money. So many endless possibilities!! I could go like this for hours!
Pra asked whether I was getting senti over my ex-gf. I wanted to tell her this: “How can a quarter of a vodka, a tiring day, a cold scary beach recall you of ur ‘ex’. It could only take you to your worst fear.” But I said nothing of this sort. I simply diverted the topic to earthly affairs like education, career, blah, blah, blah! Even if I had told her what I was thinking of, she couldn’t have empathized with it any ways.
When the beach got too much, we started back to our rooms to get some sleep. But to our good fortune, some vodka was still shimmering in the transparent bottle and we didn’t have the nerve to keep it untouched. So we did some bottoms up & finished the fluid. We retracted to our rooms with faded enthusiasms and tired bodies. Some of us had the audacity to declare that we will have a walk on the beach tomorrow morning (if we see the morning that is).
I woke up at 6:00 and wondered whether it would be a good idea to take a stroll on the beach. Then I saw the people around me deep in their sleeps. I didn’t have the courage to disturb their pleasure. So I joined them & pulled a blanket over myself.
The next I remember, it was 10:00a.m and chaddi was frolicking in the room all by himself. He was getting ready to leave but wanted to make sure everyone else had woken up before that. So he took up the evil task of knocking on each room and waking people up. Bisu woke up, took the empty vodka bottles, placed them besides people who were sleeping and clicked some snaps.
Everyone got ready by the scheduled time (12:00), had brunch at the hotel and left for Thivim. We also had a round at Baskin Robbins ….bliss. In the bus, we did the regular singing and hammering.
On reaching Thivim, we saw a Janashatabdi cruising onto the platform. That scared the wits out of us till we realized that it was the Goa bound train instead of the Mumbai bound one. Unloading ourselves on the platform we sat down to play cards, to listen to music, to relax. When the official announcement came that the train is an hour late, we settled ourselves and a team of enthu people amongst us set out to explore the surroundings. Later I heard that they clicked some weird snaps too.
When the train came and when we boarded it, the first thing people did was to capture the window seats. I got my seat and started documenting the expenses. I was worried that I had not recovered what I had spent. After some mental math, I came to the conclusion that I had overshot the budget. “Never mind”, I told myself; it was not so bad. Recovering from the financial loss, I joined the gang to lend a hand to their madness. On one side of the seats, people were torturing Pra and on the other side, the victim was Keddu. I had the look at the scene, then a look at the co-passengers, and then a surge of pity for them ran down me. I made a silent apology for the sad time they were going to have and plunged into the stupidity.
As the train picked up speed, the daashers picked up more energy. We played antaxari and we sang only those songs for which we knew at least one stanza. It was like re-living the time we had at Karjat. When the energy died down, when the sun had set and when the lights in the train were switched on, we mellowed a little. We started a round of SAD songs. Swapnil was the happiest to be a part of this I guess. We sang and sang in pseudo-melodious, pseudo-harsh voices. The other passengers were pseudo-marveling and pseudo-condemning this event.
We saw a hardcore hippie (he looked like a native of Uzbekistan) with flowing hair bound by a small cap, a lose shirt, a slack like trouser, and chappals as footwear. I also reprimanded him for smoking in train. He said he doesn’t know English(and he said this in English). Some of the local boys were mocking him.
To our relief, the chaiwaalas and soupwaalas were making their regular entry and helping us sooth out parched & cracked throats. We sang till the dinner boy got us insipid vegetable and tasteless biryani. The preparation had un-peeled vegetables, lots of unbreakable spices and immeasurable oil.
Post-dinner, some of us played “Ud-Ud”. To our surprise, Mek was the central pole which melted when the any player of the game took time to think before acting. And when the pole melted, each player doubled the number of his fingers put in the game. (Know one questioned why a pole should be used in the game; everyone was just laughing their brains out).
When this game got the better off us, we cuddled up near Pri and clicked snaps which resembled Picasso. We even called her Picasso’s Mona Lisa.
Somewhere in the journey, all the guys gathered around me, collected strings of my hair and started making hair locks. Again we clicked some snaps there. I guess I must’ve looked like Obelix!
After eight hours of fun-filled journey, we got down at Thane station. We walked out confidently with alcohols in our bags. We saw a couple being stopped for getting their luggage checked. We were home after three days of enjoyment.
Whenever I think of Goa & I look back on the trip, I think I’ll remember only a few things:
The awkward sleep in Kokan kanya; the soothing wind in the shacks of Anjuna and the blue-eyed lady on our neighboring table; the tattoo at Calangute; the night at Miramar beach; and the madness in Janashatabdi; the clean streets of Goa; Goa- the hub of tourism in India, my control against the craving of eating meat; pegs of vodka; expression of EXULT !
These memories will be archived as BEST DAYS OF MY LIFE!
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