Tag: Goa

Goa plans are just one of the cliche stories that is part of every young middle class Indian’s life. These stories are the kind that will be carried along in the depths of their hearts for long. I have one such story too.  One, that hasn’t been narrated yet and probably one that is as incidental and incredible as  every other Goan stories. A story that must be told on before the magic of the memories, that once was, starts to fade away. 

It will be tough to imagine a batch of engineering students graduating without ever planning a Goa trip. Whether the plans get executed is only a secondary concern. It was towards the end of second year of college (in the first quarter of 2013), that the thought about a Goa trip first took its shape in our minds and, just like most other Goa plans, the trip got executed only with a different set of people using different modes of transport and in a very different timeline than was originally intended. It was after our first few bike rides that we started thinking about such a plan. We had ridden to Hogenakkal and Coorg and wanted to do something longer and more adventurous. That is when some of our batchmates  went on a Goa trip, rousing our enthusiasm too. Fast forward two years, spontaneous yet solid discussions started surrounding the trip among the group and we were all determined to make it happen this time. With barely three months to spare until the final semester exams, and for college to end, we drove off to Goa to spend a week there. The squad consisted of Jince, Anshu, Cijin, Sandeep, Azaan, Suraj, Vandana, Abin, KV, and Me. My name is in the end because I wasn’t very sure whether I would have been able to make it back then, due to fund issues. If it wasn’t for the handsome pocket money my aunt gave me, I wouldn’t have been a part of this awesome story.

The only thing that we managed to plan in advance was our stay as Suraj did a great job in finding an awesome serviced apartment in Calangute. The rest of the trip was simply a ride, as it was meant to be. We would have started the drive sometime around the afternoon if Cijin didn’t have to drive an extra 40 Kms to go get the papers for his car that he had forgotten the first time. Even with the extra trip, he only managed to get a photo copy of the registration with the insurance papers still missing. It was easy to take a leap of faith and proceed on an interstate drive without insurance papers as the number of people who would understand the implications were a minority. Soon enough, Sandeep’s white Polo and Cijin’s black Innova hit the highways while the sun still shined.

Lack of a proper music system in Cijin’s car didn’t bother us much as there were plenty of nonsense for us to discuss about. For the moments that seemed dragging, Anshu’s bugging was enough to keep me entertained (suck it up Anshu Roy😉 ). We had reached Goa some time before midnight and, as the ritual demands, loaded one or two cartons of Kingfisher into the car as we crossed the borders into the care free land. We headed to Calangute beach straightaway to find a place to have some dinner. We had a minor problem as we didn’t have a place to stay for that night since the serviced apartment would have been available only from the next day. This wasn’t an issue of great concern though, as we were mentally prepared to spend the night at the beach. As a bonus, the shack owners let us use some of their chairs for the night after our dinner. Some of us went for a stroll on the beach while the rest enjoyed the time around the shack.

Shack: The Night

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For a beach that is generally swarming with tourists during the day, it was pleasantly quiet and peaceful during the midnight. The chatters of the isolated groups of people, scattered around, never seemed to breach those private spheres. There was no bustling and noise as businesses had pulled down their shutters long ago. In a sharp contrast to its original being during the day, at night, Calangute metamorphosed into several different worlds that existed only in the minds of the perceiver. In some of those worlds, memories were being created while some of those tried to erase them. There was a luring charm to the uncertainty hidden under the darkness of the waters in some of those worlds whereas the rest found them scary and repulsive. In some, the skies were only a continuum of the same waters that covered their feet at that moment. Some of those worlds knew that it was only a deception that was meant to be broken by the first streaks of daylight. Those in that world knew that the flickering lights in the waters didn’t have much in common with those in the sky. Fantasy and reality coexisted peacefully along the beach that night. The only constant in both the worlds was the calming sound of the waves swashing the sands. We had probably downed two bottles of Kingfisher before walking back to the shack. The night continued for a bit longer until our babbling died down. I don’t sympathize on KV for having to put up with the rest of us in a sober state of mind because I am pretty sure that he was enjoying the free entertainment.  

The exhaustion from the long drive and sleeping on chairs didn’t seem to break our spirit as we all got up pretty early in the morning with good energy. Cijin and Azaan, like some savages, headed straight to the sea for a swim while the rest of us hoped to get the apartment keys and get going with the morning business as soon as possible. Thankfully, it didn’t take us long and we were able to get the keys to the apartment on time. For some reason, Hozier’s ‘Take me to church’ had become our trip anthem and the song kept on playing on loop while we were inside the apartment.  I don’t remember who exactly took the initiative to make some noodles for everyone but that decision sped things up a bit. All of us got back to the beach after freshening up. Unlike Cijin and Azaan, the rest of the bunch were not good swimmers but the beach felt safe and fun nevertheless. They were in the deeper waters for most of the time while the rest of us dared venture only up to neck deep waters. There were a couple of moments when we were thrown off by waves and found ourselves dragged into depths where our feet couldn’t feel the ground and we would quickly swim back to safety. Those were obviously the maximum levels of adventure we could afford without troubling the beach guards.

Calangute: First Sunrise

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Eventually, the waves grew stronger and we were able to enjoy some playful moments in the shallow waters during the larger waves. Cijin and Azaan too had joined us in the shallows as the waves grew stronger. The waves were large enough to sweep and throw us into the sand, even when we tried to stand against it. Falling down and hurting ourselves was probably the least of our concerns as we were constantly struggling to keep our trousers from falling off. This was a difficult feat as holding on to the trousers while spinning inside the wave would mean less balance and less control while hitting the ground. After some contemplation, I chose the honor of little Johnie over possible bodily injuries and that’s how I ended up scraping my knees several times in the sand. I presume Abin had also made similar choices in his head because he was the only other person who came out of the water with injured knees (as much as I can remember). I had to learn about Azaan’s choices the hard way as both of us got caught in the same wave, which dragged us closer to the shore until knee deep waters. I was still rolling on the ground when I saw Azaan getting up at a short distance facing the beach. I wish I had a choice but the quick turn of events meant that I had to see what I saw. While still thinking about a way to unsee Azaan’s naked butt, I called him out to tell him to pull up his trousers and that’s when he turned around to see what I was telling him. He got my message pretty quick and pulled them up but little Ahmed had already made an unwelcome entrance in my life and I was left with two images in my head that I had to unsee. 

We spent some time in the beach playing with the football before proceeding to have lunch. That was just the day one of many to follow in which wet underwear would become an inseparable companion for most of us.  I am not going to attempt a chronological narration of our time in Goa because the level of ‘spirit’ and various elements of nature that was present in our systems and kept us afloat remained so even we crossed the borders back into Karnataka. Therefore, my recollection might not be impeccable (besides that, it has been 6 long years). 

Calangute Cup!

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Goa is definitely a satisfying mixture of contrasting experiences. You go one way if you want to dance away into loud noisy music, and the other way if you want to retreat into the soothing sounds of nature. Reaching some destinations would mean raising your energy levels to its peak whereas you will be exhausted in pursuit of some. Some people in Goa mean only business while some of them care also about putting a tiny smile on the lips of customers they deal with. It is because of this contrast that Anshu got to leave Britto’s, one of the most expensive places that we ate at, with a cutlery holder that was on our table at the restaurant. On his defence, the waiter couldn’t have had much defense against Anshu’s puppy face when she asked if she could take it home. That was the second biggest thing for the girl in Goa, second only to the discovery of the pink framed sunglasses that someone had lost at the beach (or probably threw away. Seemed like a cheap pair😉 ). That was just one of the very few moments of our trip where we splurged as if we normally didn’t have to fall back to Maggi just to survive the last week of every other month. Soon enough, most of us, would distance ourselves from fancy restaurants and the cheapest options at McD and KFC kept us going while we were out. There was always noodles and egg at the apartment otherwise.

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I don’t know what we were thinking. I also don’t know if it is a newbie mistake that every Goa virgin does. We decided to go to Shiva Valley club one of those nights. Even though I can’t recollect the exact amount that we had spent, I faintly remember that we had to pay a handsome entry fee, for a bunch of college students, just for getting inside the club area. Once we were inside, there was literally nothing on the menu, or in the food carts around the club, that could fit my pocket and I decided to skip dinner for the night. That was supposed to be a good thing since alcohol does wonders on empty stomach. At least, I thought so. No matter how much one can chug in, alcohol doesn’t stand a chance against the ambience that is created for people trippin on hard stuff. One will feel sobriety kicking in, the moment they step inside the jam packed dance floor where people vibe to the same, repetitive trance music. Almost sober and disappointed, we left the dancing area and walked towards the beach. The beach somewhat made up for the night with a lot of lovely people around and, so, we decided to chill out. Luckily for me, there were some food carts that sold bread omelette  and I didn’t have to go home hungry that night. Except for Azaan claiming to having seen some people making out in a nearby boat, nothing interesting happened that night otherwise.

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It is not that I forgot to mention Fort Aguada, and the Churches. I didn’t find walking around these places under scorching sun, very exciting. Nevertheless, they were all worth the visit especially since the Basilica of BOM Jesus, Se Cathedral and the Church of St. Francis of Assisi are all in the same campus. I have got nothing more to say about these places than what Wikipedia has to offer. The sweet water lake near Arambol is an exception though. That place is worth the long walk that you have to take to reach there. The lake was relatively less crowded as compared to other places that we visited during the day. We spent a whole afternoon in the water and that was one of the chilled out afternoons I can remember.

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One of us, definitely not me, had decided to do something to make up for the disappointment at Shiva Valley by enjoying a night at Club Cubana. It is supposedly one of the best clubs in Goa that can offer  a memorable experience to the visitors. Some of us too would have experienced that, on a couple’s night (I guess that was a Wednesday ), if our group wasn’t so disproportionate with 6 boys to one girl.  Anshu tried to negotiate our way into the club but the Russian guy at the reception wasn’t buying any bullshit that night. So, we headed back to the apartment after another disappointing night that was meant to de-disappoint us from the previous club experience. There is a little bit left to the Cubana story, but not before I tell you about this interesting pair that kinda happened to make an appearance in our story. Goa is supposedly a lovers’ paradise and there are plenty of offerings that are designed to bring two close people even closer. Ironically, we met a pair that came to Goa as a couple and went back as singles and the pair happened to be the friends of one of us. It was good to know that we weren’t the only people who could manage to do something disappointing even when in Goa.

We were preparing to start our drive back the next day but some of the club Cubana people were so determined that they wanted to get a taste of the experience before heading back to Bangalore. As I was almost out of cash, I couldn’t have gone even if I wished to, so I decided to stay back in the apartment with the other guys and chill out. Our stay ended on a Saturday morning and we had to pack things up and leave Goa with half of the bunch still hung over from the previous night. I drove Cijin’s Innova as he was in no state to stay upright behind the steering wheel. However, Sandeep was kind of stubborn as he wanted to drive his Polo himself back but eventually agreed to switch with Jince after a couple of close calls. Once you leave the inner circles of Goan roads, reality will slowly start kicking in and the cops, who normally ignore pretty much everything, will suddenly start implementing traffic rules out of the blue. Our Innova was stopped by Goan police shortly after leaving the city limits. 

The only question that I had in my head was about how much money the cops would demand. They definitely had no reason to let a car without registration and insurance go freely. The problem was that it didn’t matter how much money they demanded because we had only a little under 1000 rupees with us. We had filled fuel from Goa for the cheaper fuel prices but we still needed some money for us to eat during the drive back. After negotiating with the inspector for a little under ten minutes, he let me go after paying 500 rupees as “fine”. We had to spent most of what was left with us for lunch and by the time we had reached Yashwanthpur, we had only around 40 rupees left with the whole group. We decided to buy some bags of chips with it before reaching home.

In a way, we must have known in our subconscious that we were driving back from probably one of our last such trips together. It might be the reason why we discussed about buying some properties together and heading back to Goa after our retirement. We talked about soaking under the sun sipping beers while we laze around in one of the fine Goan evenings. We must have also thought to ourselves that they were all just fantasies worth kindling until we got out of the hangover of the trip. We must have gotten practical and thought about moving on to newer fantasies in life. However, there are at least a few of us who still dwell in the past. Those of us who romanticize the memories and are on a constant lookout for the portal that can take us back to that land of nostalgia. The problem with such irrational fantasies is that, even if we managed to get on such a train back to the past,  we might be disappointed to disembark in a ghost town once we get there. Most characters, that made the stories memorable,  would have left that town for new destinations. 

No one is at fault. It is only because life is also about creating new stories and new memories and getting stuck in time is definitely not the right thing to do. Forward is the way to go. Just make sure that you are painting the trails in a million different colors as you go on because, years from now, when you lean back on that chair and look back, you would want to see those rainbows that can bring a smile on your lips. Don’t ever let those memories die!

Photo Booth

The Apartment

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The Happy Faces

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The Cijin

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The Beachin!

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When Azaan and doggo experienced a premature midlife crisis

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