THE GOA DIARIES

Saturday 2nd Feb'08 20:45hrs

I reach the Nizamuddin railway station at 07:00hrs and see the Goa Sampark Kranti already waiting in platform# 7. Cool. But as soon as I get inside the train, I realize there is no electricity and the stink is too much to bear. As if all these are not enough, there arrives a herd of cricketers from Kashmir. They are a mix of Moslems, Pundits & Sikhs from J & K... people in different size, age and gender. I take the window seat and look out. Soon all the seats in the coupe are more than occupied with co-passengers I do not quite like the looks of. As the train starts off at 07:30hrs, I go off to sleep, even though I'm not quite used to sleeping in the daytime.

I'm woken up during lunchtime by the 2 young & hyper-actively excited sards (M & N) offering me lunch. UGGGggghhhh!! *GO AWAY!!* I hide under my naga-shawl even though its too warm by now. I can't sleep back. These guys are chomping and yapping away to glory. I sit up straight and find company in Tuesdays with Morrie. I read it straight up and finish it off around 19:00hrs. Now I'm hungry. I eat something at the next station. M & N follow me like shadows. I get back to my seat. M starts a conversation. I pretend I'm deaf. N tries to show he's mature; asks M to keep quiet. *N scores brownie points here* I keep the bored-to-death look on my face and body-language intact. It helps. I sleep off at 21:00hrs sharp.

(Note to myself: Worst journey of my life. GgRRRrrrr!)


Sunday 3rd Feb'08 23:55hrs

Its a lovely morning. *especially because those nerds are nowhere around to be seen* I yawn aloud and stretch. A couple of oldies and kids inspect me like I am from outer space. I look at the passenger sitting beside me just by instinct, and...I have to look again...*my eyes pop out and fall off* A HOTTIE!!...reading the newspaper....*Awwww!!!* Now where on earth has this one landed from?? (let me guess...ummm MARS?!) He reminds me of my friend R. I think I'm staring. That's too obvious. But I'm not staring, I'm looking at him because Hottie looks so much like R. Does that mean R is a hottie too and I haven't realized it all this while? That's too much of thinking to be done on a train journey (especially to Goa). Hottie looks at me and attempts a light smile, slightly uncomfortable. I surprise myself by smiling back when I don't want to. Hottie extends his hand and says he is S. I shake hands and say hi! Everything is nice and smooth and we get talking while the others look on and the nerds barge in. S happens to be in the same group... but he is so refined. (Sigh!). M & N almost starts panting at the prospect of talking to me. S introduces them to me. I say hi without shaking hands. M & N start their much awaited (and mostly one-sided) conversation. I reply in monosyllables when I want to. They are much more stupid than I thought. And desperate. But they appear to be good souls and their stupidities prove to be innocent and very original. I become a little soft. After all, there's not much time left for me to reach my destination. M writes the mobile no.s of all the 3 of them on a piece of paper and hands it over to me, asking me to call them if I ever want to visit J & K.

(Note to myself: Nerds can be sweet at times, but they are basically annoying. I'm losing them fast, so who cares!)

I take a nice long look at S before getting down and when he catches me doing it, I casually drop in the conversation how much he resembles my (actually non-existing) boy-friend. S looks disappointed but I clear my stand. M & N simply gape. Then S says something really sweet..."Bring him along too...to Kashmir. It would be nice to meet the lucky man."

I'm so touched. I get off at my destination (Thivm) with a heavy heart and an even heavier duffel and head straight to Tony's cottage at Anjuna Beach.

I choose a nice front room (courtesy Tony), unpack and take a long leisurely bath, before going out to the beach. A little later I go to meet Baba (another shack-owner, who had refused to give me a room the first time I landed in Goa, but later on, became a very good friend). I ask Baba for food and a Masala Chai. He offers me a seafood burger and beer instead. That's why the love them Goans. As I'm eating and having the beer, a Chinese man comes by and makes a joint. Its good stuff, I can make out from the smell. He offers me to share the joint, but I'm just too tired. So I refuse politely and both of us try to converse in broken English. As the Chinese man was doing the last few drags and I was gulping down my last few sips of beer and burger crumbs, a small carnival band comes right up to the Paradiso-turn just a few feet away. Baba asks me to go watch. I run to the point with my camera to watch all those colorful floats and troops. These are mostly white-people, not the locals, but its fun none-the-less. A white lady who looks totally stoned, comes by and kisses people randomly... on the mouth... *EEKS!* I escape and she catches hold of a guy standing next to me.... N. He doesn't seem to mind, but his girlfriend A, doesn't look so amused. We become friends. They have a couple of other friends- R & S. They are all from Mumbai. We all say hi to each other and watch the carnival for sometime. Later on, we decide to go to the Hilltop and have a freaky time till past midnight with port wine & psychedelic trance at its loudest. *a total WOW experience!!!* R hails from Goa, so she meets up with friends and cousins there. S is drunk silly on 3 large vodka shots. A seems a little bored and lost as N and I are dancing to the trance beats. Just before midnight, N drops me to my guest house and returns to his gang-o-girls. I call it a day.

(Note to myself: Who gives you a nice time... friendly strangers or strange friends???)

Monday 4th Feb'08 23:00hrs

I'm woken up by a loud knock on the door, around 8ish.*Who's it?*. "Hey, its me... N". Am surprised but still open the door for him. He explains sheepishly that they had all stayed at R's native place in Vagator nearby and did not go off to Calangute to their hotel last night. And since he woke up early and the girls were catching up on their beauty-sleep, can we please go for breakfast?! I get ready in 10 minutes flat and we're off to the German Bakery at the Anjuna junction. As we're finishing off breakfast, N gets a call from R's mother that the girls have woken up and waiting for him. He leaves. I go off to the beach for some sun-tan and water-play till mid-day. I experiment with my Canon SLR at all the hours of the day, trying to learn all its hidden features. When I have enough, I take a long long bath in the warm afternoon sea, then go hog on sea-food and port-wine in one of my favorite shacks nearby. After lunch and a quick afternoon siesta, I go shopping gift-items and mementos for friends back in Delhi. I buy beads and anklets and a marble-chillum and a nice green dress and a pair of crocs for the beach. Now I'm happy with all the shopping. *little pleasures of life*. In the evening, I walk down to and pay a visit to Tony's family. That beach is not one of my favorite, so I come back to before its too late. Its too early for dinner and I'm not hungry yet. And I don't have anything much to do. So, I stop by at the 'VagatorAnjunaSea Queen' shack for their evening movies. I watch SHOOT 'EM UP on their big screen projector. Then have a light supper and walk back to my room. I read up some before calling it a day.

(Note to myself: Alright, so the day has gone by unexpectedly uneventful and laid back! But I like it this way sometimes. I miss my girlfriends though... and some of my guy friends too... *wink!*)

Tuesday 5th Feb'08 23:45hrs

Good-morning.... Goa! Its such a lovely morning. Just by the thought of how much lies ahead to be done the whole day, gets me all excited. I go to a secluded spot near the German Bakery which looks like a deserted graveyard, but the place is not as scary as has high walls with lots of stairs and an uphill. I can see some huts and a little hint of civilization up on the hill. So I'm not all that scared. I climb up to the highest stair and sit up on the wall with the hope of catching the first rays of the morning sun with my camera. After what seems to be a long wait, the sun finally shows itself. Not as beautiful as I expect it to be, the sunrise. In Goa, its the sunset at the beach that is the most breathtaking site. Nonetheless, I click some pics and climb down the wall and the stairs and head straight to the German Bakery for breakfast. I'm getting addicted to their masala chai, cheese-burger & omlette breakie. I do my usual sun-soaking and then after a shower and change, at about mid afternoon, I start off for Mapusa.

Today is the last day of the Carnival and its in Mapusa. I can't afford to miss this one. By the time I reach Mapusa and scan the market for some local Goan lunch, the floats are already there on the main road. I rush to catch a glimpse and after I see a couple of them, I'm captivated. I go on clicking them one after another. One float is better than the other. The cheer, the colors, the excitement is all so enticing.... its unbelievable. Before I realize, its dark. I rush to the market to buy some eatables... cashews, dry apricots, prawns balchao, dry-fish, churiso, wines, port-wines, etc. While I was buying my stuff, stacking my wine bottles here and there in the 2 bags I was carrying, it created quite an amusing view (apparently) for 2 friendly strangers-M & A, who have been watching me all this while from outside the shop.*twist in the tale*We say hi! to each other and chat up. They are from Mumbai again. M looks like either a cross-dresser or gay, but nonetheless very friendly and open-hearted and A has a permanent 'bored to death' expression glued on her face. Later I found out that she's not actually bored, but that's the way she looks even while she smiles. I couldn't be bothered. We find a local bar and sit there chatting up, eating, drinking and clicking pictures together. We get along so well that we decide to extend our meet and go over to Club Titos (Baga Beach) at about 22:30hrs. That's where M & A are putting up. They have a car, so we all hop in. My shopping bags in tow.

We have a wild time at Titos and M attracts a lot of 'unwanted' attention while revealing up to his thighs while dancing in his beach sarong on the dance floor. Both A and I lose him in the dance floor and we come out to the bar for more beer. We catch up on beer and some girlie talks and just when 4 cuties come up to us to ask us for a dance, M finds us and snarls at the cuties.*darn!* He looks hurt at our betrayal. Suddenly I am drunk and too tired. So, I want to go to my room. Them good souls drop me to my hotel room and ask for my tomorrow's plans. Without even thinking I utter out that I have to go to the Anjuna Wednesday Flea Market tomorrow morning. Both of them (being first-timers in Goa) invite themselves to come with me. We fix to meet up tomorrow at my room at 10:00hrs, I gather all my shopping bags and bid each other goodnight.

(Note to myself: Quite a day. Whew! And quite an odd couple. But they are harmless, so I'm kewl.)


Wednesday 6th Feb'08 23:00hrs

I sleep straight till 09:45hrs and wake up with a start at the shrieking alarm clock bell of my new next-door neighbors. *What a timing!* In a jiffy, I shower and get ready and walk up to the shack right across my hotel for a quick breakie. As I finish off the last bit of breakfast, M & A arrive. We drive to the Flea Market and buy a whole lot of junkies. We finish our shopping and a complete round of the market by 15:00hrs, then stop by at a local eatery there in the market for delicious yet affordable local goan lunch. We are all happy with our new possessions.

M decides to take me & A to his local goan friend at Calangute Beach, who owns a shack. We all go over to meet J at his shack. As we reached there, J welcomed all of us with a big friendly smile and open arms for warm hugs. It was hard to believe someone can be so friendly from the first meet. But I observe that in J's line of business, this is extremely important for his clientele to spread about his service and attitude by word of mouth and hence make him more popular than the 10 other competitive shacks in the neighborhood. The pool-table in his shack (the only one in that area) proves to be another added bonus point for his shack's popularity and earnings. And the tall-dark-handsome hunk (his most prized employee) is a hot favorite escort amongst the single white women who visited the shack. There was no leaf unturned by J to soar his business much higher than all his competitions. We sit there chatting, playing pool, sipping on beer and port wine, eating huge crispy-fried tiger-prawns, mussels, etc. everything on the house. There was no way one couldn't keep from coming back to a place like this. We leave for our respective hotels at around 22:00hrs. M & A drop me to my hotel room. They leave for Mumbai tomorrow early morning.

(Note to myself: I learned so much from J today. If you run a business, be passionate, shrewd and friendly in an absolutely balanced ratio. There is no way you can fail. I'm so impressed. It was also nice to have met M & A. Friendly strangers turn into my good-natured, pure-hearted friends... at least for now.. and I loved every moment being with them.)


Thursday 7th Feb'08 00:00hrs

Rise & shine gorgeous! Its a bright new day again. My last day in Goa for this season. And I'm on my own. I have not planned the day yet. Let me take it slow and on impulse today...
I have breakfast at Tony's shack today, their specialty being freshly-baked homemade pitta bread & hummus with masala chai. I feel so satiated. After breakfast, I sunbathe and take a swim in the almost empty beach. The local tourist crowd have all left and there were only a few foreign tourists left in sight. The season is getting leaner by the day. I go to my room, take a shower, get dressed, check my jhola for money, water bottle, sunglasses, a book and some dry-fruits to munch on, then set out just aimlessly for destination anywhere. I keep walking till I reach the Anjuna junction bus-stop and get up on the first bus which stops. Its going to Calangute. That brings a smile to my lips and as I pay the bus-fare to the conductor with a mysterious smile, he looks confused, yet shrugging his shoulders moves on indifferently to the next passenger for fare. My co-passenger is a local school-teacher and we have a short but friendly conversation till she reaches her destination. After sometime I reach my destination too. And without any help from my brain, my feet walks to J's shack.

J has a big smile glued on his face as he sees me. He welcomes me exactly like yesterday and tells me to feel at home. I make it clear that today I'm gonna eat, play and drink here only if he allows me to pay. He wouldn't listen. Finally we both settled on me paying whatever amount he'd quote, without him showing me their menu-card for the prices. I keep my jhola with the accountant, take my book to the beach, do some reading, sun-bathing, sand-writing and clicked a few random pics of strangers and of the staff at J's shack. Mr. TDH doesn't have any customers to escort today. So, he kills time with me. I tell him that I don't need an escort, but he clarifies that he's only into white women and that I don't need to get scared. I discover that he's an educated, well-read bartender, but not rich enough to fulfill his dream of going abroad to work, on his own. He sees escorting every single white lady as a new opportunity for work permit abroad and also the earnings out of it go into his savings for his 'overseas dream' after giving J a fat cut-out as commission. I was touched by TDH's story. We played some pool together and he offered to take me to a casino in the evening. He and J had plans of going to one of their favorite casinos in the evening anyway, as the business was lean today. I agreed immediately, as I had never seen a real-life casino ever.

J drove us all to the CASINO CARNIVAL at the Goa Marriott Resort in Miramar Beach. They charged Rs. 200/- per head. Their dress-code being formals and smart-casuals, I suddenly felt under-dressed in my beach sun-dress and flip-flops. But these are situations when a lady feels privileged when she is not stopped by anyone for not following any rule. I never looked more confident than this time in my life. With 2 well-dressed men coming to the casino to blow their money, I felt no less than a princess. J & Mr. TDH indulged in Roulette, Black Jack, Baccarat & Slot Machines keeping me nearby as their lucky mascot, but lost miserably.*tch..tcchhh!* But hey, I never asked them to gamble, nor told them I'm lady luck, so I maintained a blank innocent look on my face throughout.

After losing enough money, J & TDH took me to Palmeira, the Marriott's in-house multi-cuisine dining restaurant for a nice chatty dinner, after which both the men drop me off to my hotel room and left for their destination.

(Note to myself: Its such a good yet strange feeling to be able to trust people in a place like. People I hardly know, yet I could trust, not to cheat me or take advantage of. Yet another reason why I'm in love with Goa and its natives. Boy! Am I tired?!*yawn!*)

Friday 8th Feb'08 22:00hrs

With a heavy, reluctant feeling, I slide out of bed and get ready to leave. Checklist for everything to be packed. My bags are super-heavy with all the shopping here. I go to Tony's shack to pay him. The good soul gives me a hefty discount for being an old customer and a long stay, so I am left with more money to do more shopping on the way, if I can. Seeing my super-heavy bags, Tony offers to drop me in his van till half-way till Panjim. And I thought courtesy is an extinct virtue unheard of by Indian men.*Sigh!*

(Note to myself: I'll get all teary-eyed and never leave if the Goans continue to be so nice to me.)

I have to come to Vasco to board the Goa Express at 14:00hrs. After bidding Tony 'goodbye' at Panjim, I boarded a bus to the Vasco railway station which brought me in time to grab a quick Goan lunch just outside the station and also to pick up some more cashew packets to send home to Ma.

The train's on time and I board it peacefully. It was thankfully not too crowded. So, it was a perfect time to devour John Grogan's 'Marley & Me'.

I read, ate, slept and did not even look up to see my co-passengers this time.

As I finished reading the book and my heart grew heavy at the world's worst, yet most lovable dog's demise, we reached the Nizamuddin railway station, Delhi, on Sunday 10th Feb'08 06:00hrs.

 
And that's how ended my fun-filled, carefree & colorful time in Goa this once.

The SUN and the SEA beckons

The cold-waves doing their rounds in making Delhi winters chillier than ever; the lazy sleepy sun who seems to peep out of the sky not out of willingness but as an obligation to mark its daily attendance; loading yourself with layers of thick woollens making your 'to-die-for' figure and 'sense of style' sink rapidly below zero-level (no, those hot micro-minis with leggings and pointy-boots don't keep you warm enough); the zest to go out and do so many things that could have been done during the whole day only if you could've managed to drag yourself out of that cozy mink blanket in the morning; the same old boring job; the same ol' faces that you see day in and day out; the urgency to invest your hard-earned money into all kinds of tax-saving plans and policies; the oh-so-irresistable 'end-of-winter-sale' all over the city when you feel like buying everything but cannot (remember? those bonds, insurance policies and provident-funds to secure your future); all your dearest friends either on a long vacation or just caught up with their share of mundane jobs... just name it and believe me, just about anything can be reason enough for me to hate the winters. I am anything but a winter person. The winters depress me to no end and I'm at my gloomiest, moodiest and crankiest best (read worst). I generally try to retain my saneness by escaping to the seaside and soaking in some sun to rejuvenate myself in the winters. But unfortunately, I could not manage to escape to Goa (my favourite destination) for this last Christmas and New Year's. So you can imagine, I have been at my snappiest best at the slightest of provocation, to anyone who had dared to try any of their wisecracks anywhere around my close proximity.
After shouting at the office-transporters for their consistent inefficiency, snapping at about 50% of my colleagues from the team and then profusely apologising for being rude to them for no reasonable reason, first trying to convince my boss then confusing him to the extent of him approving 10 days of paid leaves for me (of-course with sufficient amount of emotional drama and also managing to shed a few crocodile tears... a la Bollywood ishtyle), giving the office tax-consultant a piece of mind for wrong tax-deduction from my salary, and being enquired by a third guy-friend if I am about to have my periods for such foul mood-swings, I am finally leaving for my favourite destination tomorrow early morning to get myself plenty of fresh coastal air, to catch on a lovely tan and to devour my favourite sea-food-cusines and to get sloshed with all those intoxicating port-wines. A week of carefree hippie-life with no connectivity with the rest of the world... a time when I can paint myself all over with the exquisite colours of the carnival... to be with people who are complete strangers but ones who make me feel I belong. For only by doing so, I know, I will be at peace with myself. My beloved beckons and I have to go... for old times' sake... for heavens' sake... and for everybody elses' sake. Amen!

OH, WHAT A WEEKEND !

What do you do when you reach a saturation point? When everything happening to you or around you fails to interest you anymore? When you feel you just can't take in anymore of the daily routine? You are mentally tired... so much that your brain has finally stopped taking sane decisions...You are bored of everything- the same work... the same faces... and you don't enjoy living any more... Then, maybe this is a good hint that you badly need a vacation. Maybe this is the time you need to pick up a few essentials in your duffel bag and just GO...

That's what happened to me. After great restlessness and sleeplessness on Thursday night and Friday, I finally decided that I HAD TO take off for somewhere to spend the weekend in total solitude, away from the mad-rush of the city. A quick net-surf strongly hinted that no other place could be better than RISHIKESH--not so far off and just an ideal getaway for the weekend, a land which promised ultimate peace and nirvana...

The travel-guides said that it would take around 51/2 hours by road, so I took a rough estimate of around 7 hours, taking a buffer-time of 1 and a 1/2 hours, considering the flexibilty of Indian Standard Time. I stayed awake on Friday night, packing (I had a very light luggage this time for a change), chatting up on the phone and watching TV, as I feared that if I fall asleep no alarm clock would be able to wake me up on time. I showered, got ready, said a little prayer and waited for the dawn to break. Finally, I caught an auto to the ISBT bus terminal and boarded a bus for Rishikesh at around 6am. As the bus took off, I fell into a deep sleep covering up my loss of the last two-nights sleep, waking up only at a couple of intervals when the bus halted for short breaks. Finally, we were at Rishikesh a little after 12 noon.

I took a share-based auto-rickshaw to 'Laxman Jhula', as I had read that this was a more 'happening' part of the town for weekenders not wanting just a totally 'spiritual-break'. After paying the fare of Rs.8 (mind you, that's the maximum fare within the farthest ends of the town), I noticed a 'Rooms are available' board in one of the guest-houses, very near to the main-market area of Laxman Jhula. I checked in to one of the basic but clean rooms which costed me a measly Rs.150 till 12 noon of the next day, which was the strict check-out time. After freshening up, I set out to see around the place. I walked down towards the Laxman-Jhula--a point where Lord Ram's brother Laxman is believed to have crossed the river Ganga on a jute rope, but today, it is just another suspension bridge with devotees on foot, motorbikes and scooters affording an easier crossing. On the way to the 'jhula' at the northern end, the area is quite noisy with hawkers vieing with each other, attracting customers to their individual stalls. You can find anything from religious goods (like religious books, comics, audio-cassettes, incense and sandalwood sticks and small deity-idols, etc), imitation jewellery(including mangal-sutras, rudraksh and other stone malas,etc), clothing (kulu-topis, nehru-jackets, kurtas, salwar-kameezes, etc), fruits, eatables and even small packets of sugar-dough-balls (to feed the fish) and packs of dry-chickpeas(to feed the monkeys, while crossing the 'jhula'. In those narrow lanes, I bought a few packs of the fish and the monkey feed, and a few packets of 'prasaad' to be offered to the Gods. Just on crossing the Laxman-Jhula, there are two-colourful 13-storey temples--'Swarg Niwas' on the right and 'Shri Tryambakeshwar' on the left. And an ancient 'Hanuman Temple' in between the two. There were several other temples all around in a row, but after visiting these three, I felt the need to put an end to any more temple-visits, and discover more of the place, instead. I crossed back the 'jhula' to reach the starting-point and walked down to the clean sandy beach lining the river. Sitting there by the beach, I dwelved into the cacophony of the temple-bells-chimes, the faint strains of classical music from the nearby stalls and of the noises of the people around, mixed with a heady smell of the fresh river-water and the incense-sticks from the nearby stalls and temples. Sitting on the banks for sometime, watching the peaceful 'Ganga' flow her way down slowly but steadily, I walked up to the 'German Bakery Cafe' just a few steps away, for a quick snack and some tea. The view from there was even better, and still better than that was the amazingly tasty eats the cafe provided at such moderate prices.

Rishikesh is strictly vegetarian and you cannot carry or expect to find any non-veg or alcohol in the whole town, but being a strict vegan on saturdays, it suited me fine. Due to the constant rush of foreign-tourists, the restaurateurs have learnt to be innovative with their dishes. I ordered for a glass of 'ayurvedic-tea' with honey, alongwith a delicious grilled 'vegetable' sandwich filled heartily with their universally acclaimed homemade goat-cheese.

Once satisfied with my meal, I started off for the 'Ram Jhula' again on a shared-based auto, which costed me Rs. 3 this time. On getting down there near the 'jhula', I took a longer route, walking my way through the closely-strewn huts and ashrams and reached the impressive 'Ram-Jhula', swaying a little with the strong wind above the swirling Ganga. It was a very 'moving' experience to just stand in the centre of this 'jhula', feeding the dough-balls to the fishes in the river below. The 'Ram-Jhula' connects 'Shivanand Ashram' on the east bank with 'Swargashram' on the west. I kept walking further on after crossing the 'jhula' and reached a narrow-lane full of stalls very similar to those near the 'Laxman Jhula' area. Here, I spent some time picking up small Ganesh-ji idols, Shivlings, sandalwood pieces, dried amla and ginger packs and a few fruits that I had never seen before. As I moved my way ahead, I came across a place called the 'Parmaarth Niketan'-an ashram trust, which organises 'Gangaji-ki-arti' every evening around sunset, hymns sung in unison by adolescent sanskrit students, dressed in saffron-coloured robes. I walked in following the sweet musical hymn and just within a few minutes the place was swarming with devotees-both Indian and foreigners. The group of students were seated at the stairs of the ashram, overlooking the huge image of Lord Shiva in spotless white marble, seated in padmasan in a deep meditation poise, right in the middle of the flowing Ganga, the deep orange sun setting behind Him. Just on the banks was a 'yagya' (an oblation) going on and the melodious sanskrit hymns by the students and the devotees, singing and swaying in unison to the prayer, made it an experience of the most beautiful form of (mass) prayer I had ever witnessed. This 'aarti' lasted for around 2 1/2 hours, after which most of the devotees offered beautiful flowers, incense-sticks and lighted-diyas in leaf-caskets to the river Ganga as their offerings to Her. Those few hours at the 'Parmaarth Niketan' ganga-aarti brought such peace and tranquility to my mind that I felt 'purified' right upto my soul. My mind was totally blank and at peace, an absolute high without the influence of even a single bit of nicotine. At the end of the 'aarti' and the offerings to the Ganges, a few lighted diyas in stands were passed around and most of the devotees took the warmth of these lighted lamps as a form of the God's blessings.

After the 'aarti' most of the devotees were found rushing to the 'Chotiwala' restaurant at the eastern end, to grab some dinner. Here they serve both north and south indian and also chinese food, but their 'thali' is the most famous of all. By the time I reached 'Chotiwala', both the restaurants (run by the two brothers) were full and had a long queue of customers in waiting. And as all the nearby food-stalls selling 'indian' food were also occupied, I found the 'Green Italian Food' restaurant near 'Swargashram', fairly vacant and quickly grabbed a seat. I was a little doubtful of the kind of 'italian-food' they'd come up with, looking at the so-affordable price menu, but the delicious spinach-cheese lasagna along with the huge slice of tiramisu which left my taste-buds craving for more even after I was full to the brim, at just Rs.125, could have put any great Italian restaurants in Delhi to shame both cost-wise and taste-wise.

After dinner, I hopped into a shared-autorickshaw again back to my hotel-room and as the rickshaw driver dropped me right infront of the hotel, instead of the usual auto-stand nearby in the market, he shyly asked me for 10 bucks for the 'special' service and applicable night-fare-cahrges. I got back to my room and fell into a deep slumber, quite early to my normal sleep-time standards. The night was cold as it had rained, and the blanket provided by the hotel was put to full use.

I was woken up at around 6am on the 'divine' sunday morning, to the chaos of the vibrant Rishikesh atmosphere--the constant chime of the temple bells, the smell of incense-induced air and the rays of the lazy sun creeping in through the hotel-room windows, the faint hymns of the Gayatri-mantra and other religious slokas, foreigners walking down the road in saffron 'hare rama-hare krishna' kurtas, everything was utterly purifying and woke me up fresh after a good night's sleep. I took a shower and went down to the bathing ghats of the Laxman-jhula, only to find the 'sandhus' bathing in the river and the prayer-flags fluttering on the river-banks. As it was not a very pleasant view, I trekked a few kilometres uphill on the straight road and in through the lanes and was amazed to feel so much at peace and one with nature even in the midst of a town bustling with people. I walked back to my hotel room and checked out at about 12 noon and went down to the 'German-Bakery' Cafe for a lazy sunday brunch. I occupied my favourite seat overlooking the 'laxman-jhula' with its temples and the bathing ghats, and as I was basking in the view, enjoying my delicious brunch, I was joinned in by a gentleman in his late 40s-David, from NY city-a professor in religious teachings, who is a follower of Swami Paramahansa, and he visits India every year with his troops of 'firang-students'. As we shared a few general whereabouts over our brunch at the same table in the cafe, David gave me an overall idea of the 'Glasshouse on the Ganges' where he and his troop had put up. Though he said it is a little expensive, but the huge volume discounts that they get due to their regular visits, it works out to be pretty reasonable for them. This place is a heritage property from the 'Neemrana' stable, set in a lychee orchard, with tropical gardens full of rare birds and butterflies, on the Rishikesh-Badrinath road. From David's naration, it seemed to be a totally different world secluded from the main Rishikesh town and I promised myself to visit it the next time I landed up there again. In the midst of our conversation, we were joined in by an Italian lady and an Englishman and our conversation got rather varied yet interesting, exchanging meditation-techniques, places to visit in India, local food, weather and the approaching festival-of-lights.

At around 2 pm, I bade farewell to my new-found friends and came down to the 'Triveni-ghats' at Rishikesh, very near to the bus-terminal from where I was to board a bus back. It is believed that if you took a dip in the Ganga at this ghat, it purifies you in and out as the waters here have soul-purifying powers. There were proper changing facilities after you took a dip and it was a really great feeling to let the chilly flowing waters of the Ganga, wash you clean under the hot afternoon sun.

I sat there on the banks for some more time after the 'holy' dip and change, and then took a bus which brought me back to the city where I live... back to my routine life, but with a fresh mind, a relaxed body, a clean soul and a weekend of pure 'Nirvana'...

I FELL IN LOVE ALL OVER AGAIN

As the year 2005 was about to end with the advent of the new year 2006, I fell in love… though ‘strangely’ this time with a place, not any person… while living amongst strangers… a place I had never been to before… GOA. It was a totally unplanned trip. I had it in my mind all the time but I couldn’t just figure out how. And then, the next thing I know, I was in Goa, instead of being at my home, for my Christmas and New Year’s vacation. The first time I was on my own, far away from the comfort-zone of my loving friends, folks, relatives and my not-so-long-lost lover, on Christmas eve. Confusing? But then, that’s just me. I preferred to travel alone this time as I had broken off with my boyfriend of four-years, for good.
I have a duffel bag into which I threw my essentials in a jiffy, my photo-identity proof and papers, bought myself a ticket to Goa and I was in a ‘to go’ mode. Clutching my very heavy bag (being a cancerian, I have a tendency to want to carry everthing while traveling), I got into the train. I instantly made friends with two Indian girls from Delhi (both first-timers like myself) and two Austrians (the been-there-done-that duo), all of us been thrown in the same ladies’ coupe. And then, it was all non-stop girlie talks-discussing everything from books, bikinis to naval-piercings. I handed out yoga and reiki tips to the foreign travellers, in exchange of which they offered me suggestions on which beaches were the most ‘happening’ ones, the cost-effective ones and THE best ones to be on. I got out of the train at Thivim while the others had to get down at Margaon, and I headed straight towards North-goa, where there was enough action for a life-altering experience and more, as suggested by my ‘Firang’ friends from the train.

The first thing I noticed there in Goa, was that no one noticed me or paid any heed. Now, I know I am no head-stopper drop-dead-gorgeous-looking Babe, especially after travelling in the train for about 30hrs. But having lived in Delhi for the past seven years, I was so used to the discomforting stares and the up-and-down surveys of most men (regardless of their age, stature or educational background), especially when you’re alone, unescorted. But there, suddenly in a strange city, amongst strangers, I was free of the age-old habit of constant vigilance, and everywhere there I got away without a local even batting an eyelid. In Goa, no one just bothers who you are, where you are from or what you are doing. And I was swept off my feet at once. The colours, the sound, the energy, the delicious Goan sea-food (and I have no food allergies, thanks be), the hottest swanky night clubs, the endless beach shacks, from rave parties to genteel live entertainment, acid-trips, street shops, tattoo-artists, North-Goa throbs with activity that could make your head spin, depending on how many feni-shots you’ve gulped down by the end of the night.
I fell in love with the freedom that came here with sheer anonymity. The varied cultures and the simplicity of the locals, took my breath away. While the Goans are traditionally ‘susegad’ (laid-back) in their attitude, and mind you, you won’t get breakfast there at 7am and dinner after 11pm and almost all shops close sharp at 1pm for lunch and the afternoon siesta, but then again, who wakes up at 7am in Goa, especially for breakfast?
I spent my Christmas evening with jazz and retro rock blues at the ‘Souza-Lobo’, an open-air restaurant at the Calangute Beach which had authentic goan food and ‘live’ music by a handsome goan-born internationally renowned singer, while my New Year’s eve was spent swaying the night away to the psychedelic and techno trance and house music (by DJs from India and Israel) at ‘Club Paradiso’ and ‘Hill Top’ at the Anjuna Beach. Here, the party doesn’t end even as the sun comes up. ‘Club Paradiso’ has amazing fireworks at mid-night as the clock strikes 00:00 hrs to a brand New Year and ‘Hill Top’ is an open-air new-age hippie’s answer to alternative clubbing. Getting to and back from the clubs were relatively easy, as taxis were available at all hours of the night, though horrendously expensive. Women partying without escorts are seldom harassed there, almost never heard of… but then, in Goa you are never unescorted. ‘Club Tito’s’ at the Baga Beach and ‘Club Cabana’ at the Arpora Beach, were the other hot clubs I covered in my nocturnal hunts on the other nights. They had funky music and in-house as well as guest DJs spinning great tracks.

In Goa, you feel hungry almost after very half-an-hour. It must be something in the hash-induced sea-air and sunshine. In the daytime, besides hogging on the mouth-watering local cuisines of prawns-curry rice, mackerels, king-fish, tiger-prawns and crab-dishes washed down with port-wine or feni, I took time out to go street-shopping for beach-wear and junk-jewellery at the Wednesday Anjuna flea-market, bought port-wine, giant cashews, feni, goan-sausages and home-made prawn-balchau from the Friday market at Mapusa and souvenirs from the Saturday night market at Arpora.

I fell in love with the spirit of life there… the largeness of the vast, vast Arabian Sea, with beaches where I could get lost… where I wanted to be alone, but could never be lonely… where I could smile at strangers, accept a dinner date from the cute Italian who occupied the beach-cottage-room opposite mine at Anjuna or go club-hopping with the Lebanese group from Dubai, without wondering if I would be raped or robbed or plainly taken wrong. It was cool to do drugs but equally as cool to say NO to it. Nobody would insist, persist or trap you into anything. It was a constant discovery all the time, be it taking a walk on an unknown beach early in the morning to see the sun come up, or learning to climb into a local bus with 50 people, in 30 seconds flat, striking up conversations making tentative new friends who would exchange life-stories till I reached my next destination. Or better still, I could just drink myself silly on all the cheap booze, lazying on the beach, ignoring the sun-tan, really working on absolutely doing nothing.

Then a few of my friends joined in for the last couple of days, when I had already had enough of the frenzy of the north. So, we then seeked respite to the more calm and romantic beaches of the legendary Donna-Paula and Miramar Beaches, a day before we were to return back to Delhi from Vasco.

There was something about Goa that left me refreshed even after the mere eight days that I spent there. I fell in love with it… head over heels… so much that I had to return again… by February end again, to attend the Carnivals (or Carnaval, as the locals call it there). This is the most vibrant and colourful of all Goan festivals, which offers four days of non-stop fun and feasting, from the 25th to the 28th of February every year. This time, I had one of my girl friends with me and it was all about the fun of travelling together, rooming together, enjoying new water-sports, trying out the delicious pork-sorpotel and mussels-fry, talking in low-voiced ‘assamese’ lingo so that no one understood our less-than-demure comments about the four hunks from Chandigarh in the train sharing the same coupe with us, or laughing together at the strange 'firang' who was jogging on the beach right under the bright afternoon sun at 2pm with a really drained-out-looking pup who he had 'adopted' after his wife left him. And it doubled our fun to watch Goa break out into a riot of colour, music, dance and lots of fun with massive and glittering ‘floats’ parade in Panjim, Margaon, Vasco and Mapusa (in that order), filling each town and village with street plays, traditional carnival dances, costume parties and fireworks at night.

Refreshed, I happily came back to my routine to the city where I live, to my friends, my colleagues, my workplace, to do my share of daily call-targets on the week-days and the fun-jobs on the weekends… everything I am familiar with, firmly placed back in their own places. It was like coming back home. But there was a difference. Now I’ve got a song on my lips, a smile in my eyes, a spring in my steps and a renewed zest to overcome every obstacle that comes by. I have now got a memory of the adventures I had, of the fun, the non-stop partying, the freedom I experienced, the discoveries I made, the people I met and all the delightful things I did. It made me realize the actual person I am (free-spirited) and the kind of person I’d like to be (a hippie)… and it makes me smile… it makes me feel like I’ve fallen in love all over again… with Goa. And mind you, once you get there, you’ll fall in love with it too. And then you will feel compelled to return to your beloved again and again and again… just like me!

NOSTALGIC 'NAAMTI'

My earliest memories of NAAMTI---a small village, located in the outskirts of Sibsagar (a small town in Upper Assam)---were the regular annual trips with my parents, either during my summer or winter vacations. My dad hails from 'Naamti' and I simply love the place.

As a child, I remember those countless winter nights of story-hearing sessions upon my grandfather's lap, wrapped up inside his warm 'endi'-shawl, between his arms and upon his knees, rocking along with him in his armchair, and falling asleep in that same position at night after dinner, carried to bed carefully later on by dad, without waking me up from my land of sweet dreams. In the cold evenings of those winter days, I would sometimes sit with my paternal aunt by the fireplace in the 'Dheki-Ghar' (a room with the big wooden rice-grinder, to separate rice from their cover-skin to be used for cooking or to be powdered), or go chasing fireflies with her in the summer evenings. Away from the somewhat busy, hectic and mechanical life of Guwahati (where my parents have settled down), Naamti is the place, which always gives solace to my heart.

Like most of the small places, Naamti used to have frequent load shedding, especially at night, those days. But there you would find this a blessing in disguise, because at such times, we all used to sit in the long open verandah at the stairs, with 'Aita' (my grandmother, who used to stay there alone after grandfather's death and after my aunt's marriage), and chat with her, enjoying the cool summer breeze, or listening to the distant sound of hundreds of unknown insects.

What has fascinated me most right from my very childhood, are the numerous fireflies that appear like glittering diamonds, in the dark attire of the night, to go with the twinkling starry night-sky. The big pond there, in the front-yard, is deep and is a large house for a variety of fishes. The caretaker--'Jogesh' (who has been serving the family right from his childhood days and grew up with my dad and his four elder brothers, two younger sisters and four cousins, like a part of the same family), is an adept fisherman, and he never returns without a prized catch, whenever we wanted to have fish-curry cooked by 'aita' in the traditional assamese style. He also used to take us to the paddy fields during the harvest time in our winter vacations, to gather crops and also to our favorite harvest (bonfire) festival.

Jogesh taught us the pleasures of climbing mango & lychee trees, careful of the huge red-ants, and how to devour the ripe fruits there, up on the tree itself. He also trained us how to recognise the various trees, their names, their importance, uses and their rarity and demand. I remember the countless adventurous trips that we took with 'Jogesh', with bamboo-sticks in hand, to drive away snakes and the innumerable practical knowledge that we gathered during these trips. As for instance, which leaves to rub against a poisonous insect bite, which herb to use as a mosquito repellent, how to get rid of a leech that has stuck to your feet in the paddy fields, or how to call out to the wild birds.

Naamti is a place, which gives indefinable serenity. The vast paddy fields (green in summer and yellow-ochre in winter), the quiet front and backyard ponds, the gentle cows with their calves, the smart and naughty monkeys with their cute antics, the paddy store-houses, the outstretched mango and litchi groves, the exotic wild orchids, the backyard vegetable garden, the dense bamboo groves, the melodious harmony in the chirpings of cuckoo and brain-fever birds, etc, never cease to give a healing touch to any disturbed mind.

Life is beautiful there--very simple, fascinating and so welcoming! As the years roll on, I find my emotional bond with Naamti becoming stronger and stronger. Maybe it has something to do with psychological and emotional factors. Whatever the cause, I pray that Naamti retains its charm, natural beauty, hospitality and charisma forever and develops in the field of availability of power supply.

Though Aita is no more today, Jogesh still continues faithfully to take care of our ancestral property there, with his wife and kid. One day, when I get married and have kids, I will definitely want them and their kids and the forthcoming generations, to know what a hidden treasure of natural beauty and resources Naamti holds in store. And what a paradise on earth, actually looks like…