Sunday, December 13, 2015

Night on the Beach

We think up a plan, of spending the night on the beach. Lots of the shacks have restaurants attached to them. We find a place, that seems to have good music. One friend orders a beer, the rest of us observe her drinking the beer. A couple on the table next to ours, seems to be having an intense discussion about life. A lone man sits on the table behind ours and drinks the night away. It is so interesting, that so many human lives with different stories exist parallelly. Everyone has a story. Everyone has problems. Everyone wants to be loved. Everyone wants to love somebody.Later we buy some bread and chips (to make ourselves potato chip sandwiches) We find some waste newspaper and an empty spot on the beach to settle down. The beach looks deserted. It is past midnight. The barking dogs and late party goers keep us company. But the night is still young. At least we still thought so. That night we had a real conversation. Something about being 20, and having hour long conversations seems very appealing to me. 

Uncertainty and the longing for acceptance mixed with the infinite choices of life and super ambitiousness. Anything is possible. Yet nothing seems possible. I cannot seem to focus on one task for too long. I wonder why? Why do I always have to run away? From projects, from people, from school. I bring this up in one conversation. Books, songs for the night, human radios, life back at home (wherever that was currently) were some of the other hot topics that night. Three hours went by in a jiffy. We wanted to be macho and stay up on the beach for the whole night. We planned to wake up with the rising sun, like a warrior returning back home after war. Let us do this.  We take turns to walk the stretch off the beach, and also wet our legs in the ocean water. The waves seem stronger at night. I feel they can just pull one of us into the ocean and take us away forever, to another beautiful world. By 4 am, we are half dead, we need to sleep. We decide to spend the rest of the night at the only open restaurant on the beach. Loud music and a wild party is still on. I doze off on the chair as soon as we sit downI am woken up an hour later and we head back to the shacks. I try convincing them for another hour. But I was the one that slept not them. So we decided to rest for an hour and then wake each other up for sunrise. 

I wake up, the one hour of sleep helps. Both my friends are in their deep sleep zone and decide against the morning walk down the beach. I did not get a chance to see the sunrise, apparently the beach is on the wrong side. Or the beach is a sunset type of beach. We were not the only ones that had all night plans. Empty bottles, torn shirts, leftover newspapers tell so many stories. Things have stories hidden in them too. What happens to a coin, as it moves from one individual to another? What happens to a plastic bottle from industry to consumer to industry again. I look out into the ocean and know that even the water out there has a story. Everyone has a story. I wish I listened more. There is so much to learn from the world around you. 

That day we woke up late, and had a normal day. We sat on the rocks to watch the sunset that evening. It was beautiful. Tomorrow we leave Palolem. 

We pack our bags and decide to walk to the nearest station. Bad decision in this goa heat. But we all are a good sport, so we play along acting like we are all okay with it. But yeah, I guess Leg 1, of the Finding Myself trip went by alright. Did I seem to get closer to the ultimate answer. Not too much. 

18th March 2015

We stop at a restaurant close by, to have breakfast, first thing in the morning. We order everything we can and then we meet the Man. Vivin seems to have done it all. He owns the restaurant and on further inquiry, find out that he is quite the Indiana Jones come James Bond character. Or maybe we thought he was just too cool. So he earned a lot of money working in hotel management in five star hotels around Australia and South East Asia. He travelled all he could. He told us his passport, had an entry stamp from almost every nation on this planet. We were a bunch of 20 year olds on a backpacking trip during a college break. Travel was the ultimate escape plan from the normal daily routine of our lives. Vivin was the Man. The Man that did it all. The Man we all wanted to be. Square spectacles, beach shorts, folded sleeves, formal t-shirt and your own restaurant near one of Goa's coolest beaches.  This was the life. He gave us his number, and told us to keep in touch. We walked out wonderstruck. Oh wait he also dropped us to the nearest station. 5 more points to Vivin and his legend.

My friends plan to take a bus back  to Hyderabad from Marmagaon. We take a train from Palolem, to Marmagaon. From Marmagaon, we take a bus to the local bus station. Over there we part ways. They catch a bus to hyderabad. I am still unsure where I will end up. Then I remember. 


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