God's Own Abode

Much as I may have an excuse of not having posted this early, I don't there can be any for laziness. So let me just say better late than never.

For those who know me from close quarters know my love for travel and yet its always remained a mystery (including to myself) that how come I never travelled to GOA ? Well the only explanation could be that almost like any other travel of mine this was also bound to happen only at its destined time, without planning and maximum fun.

So walked (or should I say breezed ??) these moments of happiness and "Jyo" in my life wherein I could finally touch the land of God's Own Abode (GOA).

This place, strikes you even before you land there. With the aircraft taking n number of turns and m maneouvers, as if trying n X m combinations before deciding which one to take for landing. And all this while you can enjoy some breathtaking view of this green calm land dotted with trees and generously sprinkled blue around it.

The airport gives a feel of a small town (much to my amazement it actually reminded me of Bareilly bus stand during my Mukteshwar trip). On our way to the place we were supposed to stay (Hotel Goa Astoria), we were presented with some beautiful scenic pictures, which, rightly so, were just a precursor to the great times that lay ahead. A little apprehensive of the place to stay as it didn’t have A/C I was just wishing it to be just the kind of small place that I love to stay in with the hope of getting the maximum taste of the local taste. And the moment I landed at the place all the hopes and wishes came true. Nestled in greenery like a treasure trove of beauty this place captures your heart with its serenity and the warmth of its people.

A room with its high wooden roof, glass tiles for the sunshine to play its games, a couple of chairs to talk silently and a window that opens into nature. Can it get better? Yes, if you decide to take walks with a good opinionated listener who could you rip you apart or whom you could destroy with words. Both willingly with only a feeling of respect and joy for each other. And it just gets better when one just decides to laze around absorbing all this. And thus bidding the first night a bye.

Day 1: You wake up to the songs of birds and the ruckus of insects, all of them celebrating the rise of sun in unison perhaps. Reminding us of how in the cities we forget the advent of the day as an event. At the breakfast table you are greeted by an old gentleman, full of desire to talk and reflect on the past or bring us to greet history that’s hidden in each part of a more than 200 yr old house or the ingenuity of wormiculture.

Soon there is a bike (my fav Pulsar) to head of to the first beach. We hit the road that winds through peacefully through the houses and the trees and the lakes and … Each house with a “pair” of chairs outside the porch. As if they’ve witnessed so many incidents, captured so many moments and heard so many stories that they’ve decided to entertain each other with their own experiences. We go past through the churches, some already done with their service and some abuzz with celebrations.

Soon we reach Anjuna, where the sea greets us with not a ferocious roar but a gentle hum. One is eager to feel the sand beneath the feet. To make the footprints in sand. And watch them being washed away, unless someone decides to follow them. The sea is playful, trying to touch our feet or asking us to touch its lips. A kiss is a kiss. It happens and it gives joy. Walking past the numerous small eateries to the rocky ends, one can lie down and close the eyes. With the shades shielding from the sun, the ears at their eager best to listen to the music of water. The eyes trying to capture the moment of beauty in form of a lady, with astute figure and a tall graceful walk, with a payal in one leg… Gajagamini? As if everything had been set to a script. The script written by my companion?

Before one is soaked into the beauty the sun’s giving its last salute. One decides to watch it go down with a glass of wine. Sauvignon Blanc so it should be then.. The night back is as peaceful as it can be. Some wonderful food under gentle lights and light breeze and minimal noise. Joslin is at his best again.

The after dinner walk as usual is full of composure, calm and astute love again. The discussion, in its silence is more loud. The touch of fingers is more verbal. The moonlight is dim and the darkness is glowing.

The fall of night two …

Day 2 : The first half is spent in ideating and idling .. Pondering over the breakfast and brooding over the lunch, much in anticipation of what lies ahead in the day. Soon we are heading to southern tip of Goa, towards Keri beach. Could never make to Tiracol Resort but nonetheless the almost deserted status of Keri is more than alluring. And what better than a bike ride that’s long ? So of we are again on the bike towards Keri. The drive starts on the usual beautiful note.. but it soon expands into a breathtaking spectacle.. It passes over the rivers, it rises into the ghats, it falls into the view of beaches, it breaches into the congested lanes, it whispers around the churches and it screams in the markets… it runs parallel to hypnotic sands till it halts into the tranquility of Keri. It takes sometime before one can fully absorb it. With a river leading into the sea and far across a fort glowing in its bright colours I dream of a dream house. We walk in silence. We know words are futile. The sea is dangerously treacherous. Its laying a trap. Its screaming and howling and its foaming at its max. So watch where you tread. With lesser the number of humans more is the chance of peace. And here you find it. Find it in the roar of the unassuming sea. You watch the sun, you watch it more. You watch the sea. And you watch it even more. You read the books by its side and you read more. Its more of everything. As if I had never felt the fulfillment. This place you just need to be there. You can’t talk more.

Soon headed back. Back to the abode. Back to the greeting by dogs barking. And the fragrance of Jasmine. The tranquility of Assagaon.

Soon the end of night three. This time ushered in over a glass of whiskey. And the site of an old couple. The gentleman as perfectly poised as one can get and the lady as graceful as one can expect. A lot .. a lot they have to teach even if you just watch them.

Day 3 : As much as one can hear about the beaches in Goa, one seldom hears about the Dudh Sagar falls. So obviously that has to be one of the destinations. The lesser known the place the more chances of it being good. The drive as usual by now you get used being mesmerized with. But once there, its an agonizing wait of about 45 minutes followed by a wonderful drive through the jungle (except for the sweat that’s expected at this time of the year). The drive is followed by the spectacle of the falls .. Only if one is an avid Bollywood fan can one say it’s the realization of a fantasy world. A high fall with a train crossing over it. One can just sit and wonder what all the nature beholds. And the words fail. Not much of words to say either on the way back where we are supposed to halt at the Old Goa Church. Which in itself is a spectacle. Seldom does one come across such grandeur accompanied by such blissful peace. One can just sit in silence and let the moments be absorbed.

Towards the night one reflects back on the days gone by and the day of good bye ahead. The times of joy and the times of silence. And how much this place has on offer. Wouldn’t the few words one can write be inadequate? Off course they would be.

Before one realizes the night is over. And its time to say good bye to all. To our friendly uncle to Joslin .. To Joseph.. To aunt Ida .. Uncle Edwin .. Thank You all.

And Yes.. Its time for me to say bye to my moments of “jyo”. She for that matter wouldn’t take the credit or much as she may dislike it, It wouldn’t have been what it was without her. Beyond that my words would do gross injustice to her. For those who wanna know what I mean can read all that they did above in a much better manner here.