Waiter, we’ll have a Gastronomic Goan Monsoon for two with Beaches on the side please!

I can see now why Goa can be such a blast any time of the year. Hot sun and we had a whale of a time on the beach (yeah, I cribbed a bit, but I was getting a mean tan you see). Pouring rain and we grabbed our wind cheaters to gleefully drive all over the northern coast and Panjim on a Honda Activa with a handy little map as guide. Neither of us is a “rain person” really but the place is just so charming and the fact that most tourists stayed indoors, waiting for the rain to let up that we couldn’t sit indoors!

That’s the spirit with which one should go to Goa – be free as a sprite, feel the sand between your toes at the numerous picturesque beaches, each one distinct from the other, roam around the quaint roads lined with curio stores, freak out on sea food in the beach shacks, shake a leg in the night clubs, be out on the winding roads on a bike and be indoors only when you need the rest(room) :-)

My advice (unsolicited though it may be) is this – pack light because you wont need much; just shorts and tees irrespective of time of year, good sun screen (which S for some reason insists on calling ‘sun tan’ :-)) and a wind cheater/ light jacket that’ll serve as a rain coat. And of course your DL, Credit/ Debit card and some Pudin Hara because if you don’t hog on sea food, you’re not really getting the ‘flavour’ of Goa. But I must warn you about the “Prawn Balchao” – a traditional Goan dish that has generous quantities of chilly powder, vinegar and spices dunked in. I recommend you go easy on it unless you want to be gasping “Praan Bachao” in the middle of the night! Oh yeah, and don’t forget to carry your basic medicine pouch – the pharmacies don’t open till 9 AM like the rest of the shops and the Mathew Briganza Hospital in Calangute does not believe that medicines can be needed between 10 PM and 9 AM! It can be quite an unnerving experience to have a loved one fall violently sick in the wee hours of the morning – you know how debilitating a stomach bug can be – and not be able to get them any medicine right away.

Amid all the beach shacks and Lazy River Grills we did the Britto’s and Tito’s of Goa as well (I had more on the list – Mambo’s, Kamaki, Club Cabana, Paradise Hill etc etc but we just ran out of evenings). Now, the oh-so-famous Tito’s has a courtyard that’s open for meals all day but the night club doesn’t open till 10:30 PM and the Goa virgins that we were, we had no clue. That’s how we came to dine at Tito’s Courtyard and order the aforementioned – and if I may add, deadly – Prawn Balchao. Our waiter was good at his trade, the food decent and ambience regular. Following that the night club was under populated, played only trance, served only two kinds of beer, was overpriced compared to the rest of Goa and wasn’t even 10% the fun we heard it normally is. To be fair to the place, this was borderline off-season and early hours for the clubbing crowd but frankly, we were disappointed and a little sad that we didn’t spend that evening in a more ‘paisa vasool’ manner. So you may want to be really selective about the big names like Tito’s. However Britto’s is a must visit at lunch time and irrespective of season, it’s always crowded and the waiters harassed, but you cannot beat the location or the food. Taj Aguada was lovely as well. I realize I’ve talked about the food so much and mentioned the term hogging (or synonyms thereof) more than once, so you could ask me what exactly does one hog on? Well, Calamari, Mussel, Prawn, Pomfret, Tuna, sundry other fish, Crab; you name it! And guzzle beer of course.

What do I like best about Goa? That’s a trick question because there isn’t one thing I can settle on! The beaches are beautiful and many, the sea food bounteous, the booze cheap, the people extremely hospitable and tourist friendly, the rains in Goa are splendid, you can scoot around on a two wheeler taxi, people obey traffic rules, the roads are romantic flanked by greenery and ponds, no one bothers about what you wear and did I tell you – you get a golden tan!! :-)Something we didn’t get to do enough of, but are sure we would have absolutely loved, is the water sports part. We did go jet skiing, but it only managed to whet our appetite for more and we’ve promised to tick it off the list on our next trip – which by the way we want to do asap! This time round, with a group of close friends who take equal delight in the food, the beaches, the rain and the water sports! :-)

Instant recall when I think “Goa” is the Goanese folk song and it’s catchy beat that I learnt in school as part of the choir, “phude phude baapud veta baapud veta, punj lagu wan, teji maashi jaakin seta, jaakin seta, bidiye phagu wan”. But the enduring image of Goa I’m always going to carry with me is the truly fun time I had with S on 5887 (yeah, that was another uncanny coincidence – our rented Activa had the same number as S’s bike here) in the rain at Fort Aguada and Sequerim beach. We’re pretty sure this is the way to spend a holiday!

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...

Her petulant behaviour put a smile on my lips. She didn't like the crowded parlour and she didn't like the fact that she got no special treatment. She didn't like the fact that we got delayed or the fact that a piece of jewellery didn't match. Or that there was no gajra or that the bindi design on her forehead looked dated. Or that we got back barely in time, crossing the dancing Baraat barely a few meters down the approach road. Fact remains that she looked every bit the Princess she is fondly known as. All of us felt protective of the little red bundle and a little melancholic as she sobbed while taking tiny litle graceful steps towards the portico after the ceremony.

I hope The Mirror knows that he got lucky.


PS- Twin's trousseau put things in perspective for me; MV need some serious help here!

Catch 22

Its strange how you have the least to say when the most is going on in life. Time ofcourse, is a factor- before you look for the time to put down your thoughts, you need time to put your thoughts in order. Otherwise you don't really feel; you just experience. This is especially true when you're an impulsive/ spontaneous person who reacts a certain way to certain things and then needs to step back and analyze the reasons behind it. A friend once said, "If you had time to feel sad, you weren't busy enough". Simple but true. Sometimes the 'drowning in work' is unintentional- like now- and that's what gets my goat. It's equivalent to the feeling of chaos and overwhelming pressure an order- crazy OCD patient would feel if their home were ransacked. These days I find myself in a situation where I have no time to think about things unrelated to work and I detest it. Especially at such a time in life when I should be wearing those famous rose tinted glasses, going shopping with friends, flying home for fittings, finalizing menus and themes and planning trips to sunny locales! I know I can consciously cut down on the time and effort at work but not achieving results would be equally vexing. Damned if I do, damned if I don't!

Repugnant skylarking

1:10 AM, Saturday night, PVR Cinema, Hyderabad:
P and I are waiting for M to get the car from the parking lot after a movie. A silver Santro backs out of an illegal parking spot, loud headbanging music pulsing out of its windows. The driver turns on the headlights (covered in some white coating) beaming them at us, bathing us in eerie white light. Takes off tyres screeching and deliberately comes towards us before veering onto the exit route. P and I shake our heads in exasperation.

1:12 AM, Saturday night, PVR Cinema, Hyderabad:
We are still waiting, looking at the gate to the parking lot when a Maruti 800 zooms out. As it passes, a guy hanging out the right rear window yells, "Hey girls, got guys for tonight?" Tiny voice in my head commands me not to flinch or give the slightest hint that I heard. The car rolls out of sight around the bend and I realise that I was clenching my teeth. P and I exhale.

Does this really fluster me? The answer is 'No'- This wasn't the first time I faced something like this and I know it won't be the last, plus I've seen worse. Questions start popping to mind though. Were we "provocatively dressed"? Yes, if Jeans and T-shirts can be termed that. Was it an isolated spot? Not exactly; there was a horde of people milling about since two movies had got over at the same time. Who the fuck do they think they are? What gives them the right to behave this way? Perhaps it's some warped form of play that gives them the cheap thrills they seek. I suspect all of us have lulled ourselves into believing that its the lower strata of society where education and grooming are lacking that women are treated with no respect. That educated, cultured men are different. Where we were on Saturday night is supposed to be host to the supposedly 'good' educated crowd of Hyderabad. That's the reason why the more I think of it, the more disgusted I feel.

Sadly, they are the depraved creations of a macro system in decay- faulty upringing, inappropriate associations in the formative years, a dysfunctional law enforcement system and the "victim" mentality of the greater populace. Yet I turn a deaf ear and blind eye confronted with a situation like this. Why do I not react? Am I scared? Nope- definitely not when I know that I can sucker punch the human equivalent of a shrimp that just squealed nonsense. I freeze to avoid a scene. I've been conditioned to believe that taking flight is better than fighting in this kind of a situation. Look at any literature on self defense- best tactic is to run if possible. Just as I've been conditioned to use this tactic, so have most women. And that's come to be expected of us. Maybe its time to change things. Just maybe.

Limerick Liaison

On the Limerick: Wikipedia: A limerick is a five-line poem with a strict form (aabba), originally popularized in English by Edward Lear. Limericks are frequently witty or humorous, and sometimes obscene with humorous intent. The following example of a limerick is of anonymous origin.

The limerick packs laughs anatomical

In space that is quite economical,

But the good ones I've seen so seldom are clean,

And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

On the P family: known for their witty one liners and keen intellect, patrician descendants of PKP with an epicurean bent and fondness for anything amusing ;-)

So here goes an original from the P stables (attributed to one of the dapper young men of yore):
There was a man from Mecca
Who went for a ride in an Ekka.
The Ekka broke down
And up flew his gown.
He asked the driver, "Kuchh Dekka"?

Edited on 17th June-
After a giggly M called this morning to remind me of a few more from the same source, I have to edit this post to add them:

There was a man from Madras,
Whose b*lls were made of brass.
In windy weather they struck together,
And sparks flew out of his a*se

There was a woman named sparky,

Who foolishly married a darky,

And for her sins she had three pairs of twins,

One white, one black and one khaki.

We weren't sure if this one qualifies as a limerick, but putting it up anyway:

Algy had a bear,

The bear was bulgy,

The bulge was algy

*Disclaimer: Anyone from the P family reading this not to take umbrage; the bachha party has grown up to B Dada tales! :)

A New Beginning

It was so lovely. I cannot remember the last time I felt so content at 6 in the morning. Tired and careworn but at peace. Despite the many little things going awry ever so often, I know what is truly important to me as a person and though I don't know how Im going to get there, I know I will get there.

I've stayed awake till 6 am countless times in the past two years but never stepped onto the balcony to enjoy a Sunrise. Today I got home in time to do just that- made myself a huge mug of hot, sweet, milky tea and sat down on the stairs outside enjoying the cool breeze in the twilight. There was a beautiful glow on the horizon and it told me just where to look. I watched through the handle of the mug as the Sun came up and didn't blink even as my eyes watered; fortunately the breeze picked up and a branch swayed gracefully up and down, partially obscuring my view.

Maybe it stems from the fact that yesterday was one of those absolutely crazy yet satisfying days in terms of work but it coincides with the realization that happiness lies within me. As long as I am happy with who I am and sure of what I'm doing, I dont need approval from the people around me. Im done with being a conformist. What needs to be done shall be done.

Of Deloitted and Commented on Happy Birthdays!

Guys who put icing on birthday cakes must be evil geniuses. Sample these:

30th June 2007- Our Labrador Retriever Comet's third birthday. Being the darling of the house, it was a foregone conclusion that there would be cake and a little party with his family :) So early that morning Mom sent our Cook to the Cake shop and told him the icing should read, "Happy Birthday Comet!". The cake was delivered at 5 PM and whisked away to the cool confines of the refrigerator. The Comet Fan Club was in full throng when it was brought onto the Dining Table with three little candles, an expectant Comet perched on a stool in the place of honour. Thats when everyone got an eyeful of the Icer's handiwork- "Comment on my Happy Birthday!" As quizzical looks turned to enlightened ones, the house boomed with laughter and a befuddled Comet let out a "please hurry up I cant wait another moment" woof. A happy comment indeed!

12th May 2008- Super boss' belated birthday party at work. She was on leave on her real birthday, so the shameless creatures that we are, we insisted on ordering her a birthday cake the day she was back. Sweet. So our Jill-of-all-Trades, Mary placed an order for a cake that afternoon. Simple message to read, "Belated Happy Birthday!" We sent out an MR (Meeting Request to the uninitiated; yep, we're that professional even about birthday cake cutting! :D ) and all of us went about our work till 7:30 PM. As the appointed hour arrived, the neat cake pack was carried to the pantry and the box was opened. "Deloitted Happy Birthday!" it read. Super Boss walked in to uproarious laughter and speculation that she had actually gone on leave to take an interview at Deloitte!

Hence the postulate that guys who put icing on birthday cakes must be evil geniuses. Or hard of hearing. Or plain dumb. Duh!