The trip to goa was planned months in advance. My much younger friend and travel companion was confident we would have a great holiday. I wasn't so sure given my limited fitness and our age gap .
Little did I know what was in store for me and how much I would need this vacation. Arambol beach, a traditional fisherman village was what the doctor would have ordered after two months of setbacks on many fronts and battling medical issues. Till the night before the flight, I was not even sure if I could travel and decided to leave that bit to God. Surprisingly I was feeling okay and took the flight out. The youngster on board the flight started the tango after an hour. As they danced on the aisle the moves of a perfect dancer a quiet envy arose in me “Oh the power of youth”, how I wish I could be like that carefree, confident, and moving with ease the body in rhythm with the heart and a jolly laughter. My dancer legs itched to join but I held myself back as usual with a thousand thoughts accompanying me.
I was met with the end of monsoon rains while driving from the airport to the hotel. As the rain lashed on both sides of the window I eased. The greenery and the river accompanied me, mesmerizing me for forty-five minutes. There is something in nature which calms everyone. The trees were blooming, the squirrels running, wildflowers blooming, and the mud laden river moving in rhythm no hurry it had nowhere to go- just be. We humans have made ourselves into machines, while nature and animals allow things to unfold.
The hotel promised a great suite with a view of the sea. A huge coconut tree blocked the view. At first, I was angry and then realized the trees had been here for decades. It was his land not mine. Why can’t I enjoy the tree and not be focussed on the sea vista. The coconuts were hanging, the breeze carried the leaves and the tree swayed to the lashing rain. It didn’t complain about anything. Another lesson received.
Morning started with a walk on the beach, endless hours strolling along the waves and the ocean air accompanying me on my journey. My footprint washed away, not allowed to stay even for a second reminding me that everything goes, nothing stays . Each day I came to the shack to do nothing watching the sea waves crash over another for hours, the beach an almost private one due to no tourists on day one and two. The wind whispered stop being afraid you will be okay moving, enjoy and dance because you can. The salty tangy air breathed in fresh oxygen, and the prawns, and the calamari kept me company. The stillness came over me which can’t be described. I realized that just doing nothing can be the most invigorating thing one can do. For many hours, I allowed the salty sea air to soak me in her arms as the sun warmed me inside out. The rest and peace I craved was here. I didn't need anything more; no tourist hang outs or dance parties. My mind was empty .
The kaleidoscope of goa is endless from the vistas of the forest greenery and sea to the humans divided into two words the tourist and the Konkani. The split bottomless into the rich and poor, fishermen and hotel owners, shack owners and their help, families and loners, sex and prostitution, plastic and martinis, Weed, Ganja, MDM and yoga on the beach. The Indian men picked up Russian girls for the night out, the women’s need for sex and drugs being met and life continues in its hedonistic desires.
Through my three days stay at Tattva beach resort, I saw the same two hotel staff working like donkeys on a sixteen-hour shift while the owner sat easily in Bangalore. Exploitation is common but to see them weary tired brought tears in my life . As we explored just a tad bit to go and listen to music the sign of wealth and poverty intermingled once again. The rich white Russian telling the Indian waiter how to greet customers. The teenager was not more than fifteen years of age, and the shops where people were bent on sewing machines at 10 pm while people like me enjoyed a berlin mule on a night out. It is easy to brush off these things, but they unsettled me.
The Konkani, a proud community who had lived for centuries on the land, were invaded by outsider’s day in and day out . The other half who come to relax while they fish deep in the sea to make ends meet. The community is warm, loving, kind and most importantly gentle. Imagine lying your net on the open sea the whole night and waiting for the fish to be caught. While it can sound dreamy and romantic, the toughness of the job is heartbreaking . They live with the sea and the wind and are tuned to nature unlike us who come for a sanctuary. Their beliefs in God are evident by the signs of the board be it goddess Laxmi or Saint Xavier’s who take care of them. They need the blessing for they know the power of nature, how the still sea can become a tsunami minutes later.
The last night of the vacation we went to the beach one last time. It was a moonless night; The equinox happened a day earlier. The sacredness of it all left me gobsmacked. The wind whispered come again, come again and I knew if I had to die one day, I would let the sea swallow me. Walking back to my surprise, I found Bapa coming in with the Konkani. The group came singing devotional songs and dancing to lay Ganpati to rest on the seabed.
He whispered in my ears –“Darling live, laugh and don’t be so serious”.
The night could not be more perfect I thought. My friend said, "See, I told you “We will have a great time. I couldn’t but wholeheartedly agree.
Good times don’t end here. As I waited at the airport, I picked the book “The elephant whisperer” , not the Oscar movie but one based on the life of South African conservationist Lawrence Anthony. He was asked to accept a herd of 'rogue' elephants on his Thula Thula game reserve in Zululand, but his common sense told him to refuse. But he was the herd's last chance of survival — dangerous and unpredictable, they would be killed if Lawrence wouldn't take them in. As Lawrence risked his life to create a bond with the troubled elephants and persuade them to stay on his reserve, In the years that followed he became a part of their family. And as he battled to create a bond with the elephants, he came to realize that they had a great deal to teach him about life, loyalty, and freedom.
Each page in the book held me spellbound with the tale of what the elephants know and what little I knew, how they send signals defying human input and how they live and protect A must read for anyone with endless lesson on love, bonding, extra sensory perception and tales of the bush
The plane lands in Delhi and I am back to my home sweet home.
Goodbye ARAMBOL
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