The 2230 Goa bound Volvo is now stopping for the fourth time. This time its for tea in Goa at 0715. The next few hours are the most difficult I think, with no beach in sight and nothing different about this ride than the one in Morni hills in Chandigarh. Oh, how I want to see a beach now. I think to myself that its probably after a wait of years, ever since the failed plan when I was still in school, that I am finally getting to Goa..
The feeling is unparalleled. You know when you really want something for years and then one fine day, you just get it. You don't even know how to revel in the joy of it all. You think there hasn't been much time to celebrate, but this journey has really given me the time to think, assess, thank and celebrate.
Getting off at the Mapusa stand, it is the sweltering heat that de-freezes me instantly and my complaints begin. Trying to ignore it all, I want take a good first look at Goa. Before anything registers, a hoard of taxi and auto drivers surround me, let the bargaining begin.
The auto looks like a little vintage piece, with doors on either side complete with the slider windows, alongwith curtains separating the driver from us! Very cozy, unlike Goa as I will learn shortly. With no beach in sight, I'm beginning to lose patience. But, just as I'm about to alight, I see before myself, the vast expanse of the deep blue waters stretching till infinity and the warm beige carpet of sand welcoming me.
As I walk towards the water, the sand tries hard to contain me where I am. I reach the shore, but my co-passenger insists we check in and come back later. It's as if I'm being punished, inflicted with this strange pain. I return, after 60 minutes of deprivation. This time, I run towards it, with such passion, that only the salt of it all brings me back. It is bliss, or something more, I don't know.
What I do know is: It felt pristine when the waves touched my feet for the first time. I came to know what it was to have earth move beneath me. I called out to myself, repeating one word, "Goddess", a zillion times. I noticed shells, that waves would leave and take back again. I wrote my name only to see it get washed away. I tasted sea. I held sand in my palm. I had a dream come true. It was overwhelming & I'll sum it up in this urdu couplet:
Jalwa baqadr-e-zarf-e-nazar dekhte rahe
Kya dekhte hum unko magar dekhte rahe
Many hours, perhaps a day later..
Trying to lounge in the beach bed at the shack, I was not alone. Accompanying me were the water sports gang, the tattoo artists, the braider, the fruit seller, the little girl with papads of all shapes, the sellers with shells, books, video CDs, hair accessories & stoles! The beach was a sight to behold with the swarm of foreigners; trying to get that much wanted tan; blend in effortlessly with the chuda-clad couples, the castle builders, the India SA match watchers & groups of friends everywhere.
I get my adrenaline rush with para-sailing amidst hallucinated glimpses of Salman Khan as I ride the water scooter. The bumper ride ended before it could start, and the banana ride leaves me breathless and alkaline! The butterfly tattoo on my ankle is nearly washed away in my joyous chapp-chapp with the sea & its waves. The braider manages to get the orange, purple and fluroscent green hue in my hair as I sip on another bottle of Coke, not Kings beer!
It is great to lie here and then to just lie here. The sojourns around town for shopping aren't very therapeutic as the responses I get are rude and arrogant especially the night market! So, it's great to just lie here. It's peaceful even though it's not serene. It's beautiful, even though it's not crystal clean. It is breath taking. It's my favourite neighbour.
