14, three and one. Well, precisely this is not the number of shots we took during the historic GOA trip, rather it is the number of pukes we three out of four took out. Ahh !! Not really a good thing to start writing a travelogue. I know. Well I will end this vomit talk here only and introduce to the travelers by the number of pukes in descending order. 14 times Khushuboo Joshi, three – Swati Priya - the ‘Paani dosh’ girl, one - the writer that’s me Arpita Sarkar. And the piece remained aloof of all the yuck-shee-thing was Mansi Mishra.
Ok, so no more dirty talks, because Khushboo Joshi has already watched The Dirty Picture and she dint like it! Location – Andheri, Mumbai, time – November, where our lives revolved around the boring, lifeless talks of office where our services (Khushboo, Swati and I) were no longer required in absence of revenue generation, followed by “Aaj kya khana banae”. Yes, we ask this question despite having husbands! But where there is will there is a way, we managed to make our ‘GO GOA’ with no job and less money. The only currently employed was the Poster girl of our trip Ms Mishra, full of beauty and of course currency notes. ;)
Amid shaking dreams and some hopes of resuming job and making a mark in world of journalism, two ambitious journalists – Joshi and Swati Priya, were planning to make their ending weekends in darling city Mumbai a time to remember for lifetime, helped by an advertising professional Manne and Mannu (as we fondly call Ms Mishra). After gauging the idea of common night outs to pyajama parties, Swati Priya zeroed on to do something filmi like DCH and more recently ZNMD! To go out of Mumbai and what could be a better destination other than GOA.
November 16, I get this call at 11:15 pm from Khushboo, Goa chal rahe ho? I was like haiee Goa, kab-kyun-kaise? After no-no galore and giving those redundant explanations of my so-called ‘no-money-destitution’ and rounds of ‘Papa se pucha’ discussion, I agree to join the trio. Meanwhile, Swati Priya was constantly cautioned by her mother from Dhanbad about her ‘Paani dosh’. Swati almost vowed of not going in water, which she partially fulfilled by not taking any water sports and dipping neck-deep in all the beaches.
Since, I jumped in the trip at the last moment I had no ticket but three friends and a bag. The trio had already booked tickets, but since all four of us were destined to go to Goa, we didn’t really care if I get a ticket or not. Khushboo just said, “Ho jaega.” And I was like, “You guys have tickets but mera kya hoga?” And the route chosen or I should say left at the last moment was via BUS, which towards the end of journey we said BASSS. The reasons are obvious and mentioned above. Kindly refer the first paragraph.
We reached with our bags near Andheri station looking out for rick towards Bisleri naka at the East side. And as people in Mumbai say it is easy to find God, than finding a rickshaw, the trouble compounds when you direly need it. Our friend Asim was in Andheri that evening, and taking full advantage of a boy there we engaged Asim in finding rick for us. And as Asim – the smart Mumbai boy is, found us a Cab that too not the old South Mumbai ones Fiat, this was Western suburbs type – Santro. We hoped in and embarked towards Goa, making calls at home and friends. I heard Mannu saying, “Hann to Goa jaa rahe hai.. rick me thodi na jaenge.” We maintained the class while traveling to bus stops and took Toyota Innova from hotel to Panji bus stop. :P
We reached the Bisleri naka within 10 minutes waiting for the bus and managing that one more ticket for me. Khushboo and I spoke to the Neeta travels and they said he will adjust two of us in the driver’s seat. I asked him, “Where is that seat in the bus?” He pointed towards the end of a stationed bus, “there”. Since, we both did not lack determination, we were happy and complacent to have paid no extra money for the last-minute-ticket. Rs 800, AC, Sleeper.
Bus arrived at around 9:40 PM and we entered looking for our seat. The conductor directed us to the extreme back. I and Khushboo adjusted in the driver’s seat, while Mannu and Swati occupied theirs. Bus blues, which were rife for Khushboo Joshi and we three were unaware of her random-bus-pukes till morning 9 o’clock when Khushboo started requesting for those black polythenes. She used more than a dozen.
Nova Casa, yes it is not Casinova, the hotel we stayed in Calangute in north Goa, where most of the popular beaches are located. Half the day was gone in bus as we reached Calangute in the afternoon. Without wasting much time out of those 30 hours spent in Goa, we all dressed in Goan style went for lunch at the near restobar. Two liquids that you have to humbly look for here is drinking mineral water and petrol, sold at extra Rs 10 more than normal price. Since you are in Goa with soul motto of enjoying, inflation doesn’t really bother you. After a vegetarian lunch, thanks to the two vegetarians- Joshi and Mishra, we started looking for ways to commute. We took a Honda Activa and a Kinetic Dio and embarked to explore beaches. Khushboo and Mansi took the driving task with me and Swati as confident pillion riders. The reason also lied that they both had driving license, Swati had one but could not drive, and I could but didn’t have a license.
The first beach we visited was the most popular, Baga beach- colourful, young and fair. The big colourful umbrellas on countless shacks, young honeymoon couples and fair bikini clad firangs. People like us who see blondes in minimal clothes only on English channels or male deo advertisements are for few seconds taken in an awe but after sometime it doesn’t really bother because you see many of them, what excited us was the vibrant feeling of being in a Goa beach together with friends, four girls and a belief that "We will not get this chance again." We were the only group of girls there and were therefore, enjoying all the attention. We took two shacks on hour basis and within moments were flocked by vendors - "Ma'am try this tattoo," "Madam have a look at this beautiful bangle, only Rs 500. Only for you madam," followed by some desi lines, "Madam chana, masala chana, ekdum fresh." Mansi and Khushboo got their streak of hair tangled in colouful woolen thread, giving their Goan look an extra touch, while I and Swati concentrated on munching sing daana. Finally being in Goa how on Earth we could have resisted water sports except for our "paani dosh" girl Swati, who paid heed to her Mom's instruction did some "bag dekhna" act, while we enjoyed the water scooter drive.
I was given this life guard jacket and made to sit on a scooter. There was this jet black driver boy and seemed to be actually working on per person basis. He kept saying, "Madam jaldi baitho, jaldi, jaldi." I told him, rather requested, "Bhaiya mujhe tairna nahi aata, gir jaun to bacha lena." He was humble and said, "Areee madam nahi girne dunga." I was happy. The water bike, as I would call it, started and ohh my God, I felt like a Hollywood actress on a water scooter chasing some goon. It was fantastic, fantabulous experience that came to an end within a minute, just one round covering half the sea as much as I could see. Khushboo and Mansi also took their share of thrilling rounds. One more thing, I should put this as Disclaimer: Camera will follow you four wherever you go in Goa. So, we sticking to the disclaimer clicked some 550 odd pictures in 30 hours. One of the few group pictures is posted along with this note.
After all the fun and frolic at the Baga beach we headed towards Anjuna beach. It was 5 o'clock in the evening as we followed the sign boards for Anjuna and kept going and going. The road went deserted with dusk. We stopped mid-way and listened to our discretion that this ought to be wrong time to be at Anjuna. I could recall the beach as the notorious one which is more in the news due to the ill-incidents that took place in the past. We drove back to the city and halted at Saturday bazaar. This is the market that runs only in November- December with lot of stuff for shopping, good food and music. This piece of useful information was provided by Mansi Mishra and you can expect such information from Manne that has to do with shopping, shopping and shopping. She was joined by Swati and Khushboo. I was happy to have bought myself a jhola-bag that is easily available in Colaba, Mumbai. With lot of world food around us, we preferred trying some mommos, both vegetarian and non-vegetarian. And the verdict was that an eating joint in 10 number market of Bhopal serves way too much delicious and cheap mommos. It was validated during my recent trip to Bhopal.
By this time we had already become a shade darker and as Khushboo said she always wanted this Goa tanning. We left the Saturday bazaar finding Tito’s, the popular restobar-pub of Goa, which had advertised itself almost all over the walls of the city with two red colour coconut trees and a punch line Tito’s - where else. All the people in Tito’s looked neat donned in smart evening dresses and we four in partially wet clothes, without make-up touch up, tanned and tired. It had a very good singer who was mostly singing English songs. An old foreigner couple kept dancing to the tune and they looked very much affectionate. The singer then did some Indian act and sung the trademark friendship song "Yaaron dosti badi hi haseen hai" and we hummed along with him. Restaurant service in Goa is generally slow but good ambience keeps fueling your patient with some more patients. We had a nice dinner there and returned to hotel.
The next day started with Mannu knocking our room making me and Khushboo realize that we are not here to sleep. This was one of the earliest mornings for me lately when I woke up at 7:30 am. We dressed up in colourful small frocks and day two's surprise package was Khushboo Joshi who transformed into a doll-like pretty baby from the usual tom-boy. This was the day to remember Dil Chahta Hai and give at least 20 DCH pose at the Fort where the title track of the film was shot with Aamir, Saif and Akshay doing that trademark 'shadow' act. We also did. Stood up at the three blocks one by one and played with shadow. Usually tourists pay some heed to the information scripted on a big stone at the entrance of such historic places but since our only aim was to click lot of pictures and feel happy just by giving DCH poses we did not even care to know the name of the Fort or who built it and why. I did search on the internet while writing this and thought to share at least the name, it is Aguada fort.
This was one place that sans foreign nationals and had lot of Indian tourists. We enjoyed driving through up-down roads being sun-kissed and our Tom & Jerry (khushboo-Swati) kept shouting ye-ye-ho-ho all the way making the "kitna maza aa rha hai na," feel more realistic. And I will remember this forever. Our following spots were remaining beaches in the vicinity. From Aguada fort we went to this not very known Sinquerim beach, the scenic beauty of this place was marvelous. The water was blue and very clean alluring all of us to jump in and we jumped, splashed, clicked and laughed. Next destination was Candolim beach. Again, we got shack-proof protection from blazing sun, this time with less madam-tatto-chana-masala vendors around us. The sunny day and lot of air helped us in drying up our wet clothes and here we were again back in water. Khushboo chose to relax under the shack and do ample self-photography. And I must confess the outcome of the pictures was remarkable, after all she looked pretty.
By the second day our paani dosh girl Swati was least bothered of her Dhanbad instruction and was the initiator to take dips in the sea. Giving her company was poster-girl Mannu, who was second to none to the sexy blondes on day two. I and Khushboo saw them both playing, looked at each other and kept quiet. This is how we communicate - see, understand and assure. Swati came and picked me up almost slamming, "Yahan kya baithne ke liye aae ho.. chalo na teddy bear." And I cannot say no to her whenever she lovingly calls me- teddy bear. Three of us chit-chatted half immersed in water while gazing at a honeymoon couple. After lot of thinking Mannu zeroed on the thought that Goa is not a very good honeymoon destination, we also discussed the reasons and what should be the more appropriate place. Our talks went serious from naughty as I told Mannu while reaching the shack, "Shayad banne aur bigadne me yahi fark hota hai," pointing to the fact that it took so much sunlight and air for clothes to dry and only fraction of second to be wet all over again.
Counting on number of hours left with us it was time for lunch. And alike the nice dinner at the Tito’s we were searching something good. We stopped at a restaurant called Mango Groove and ordered lot of food. The name Goan fish curry with rice tempted me and I ordered along with vegetarian noodles, pasta and rice. After eating the fish I got the reinforcement of the fact that none can beat Bengalis in cooking the best fish in the world. We even got some tadka dal fry, an unusual dish to be on the platter in Goa and we again got an assurance- better stick to pasta and have dal at home. It was quarter past 3 pm and our deadline to return hotel was 5 pm, suddenly and unanimously we headed for Anjuna beach, this time at the right time. It was quite a long drive. This beach was bit deserted as expected, the cool breeze of evening was refreshing. We wrapped up the spot in some 15-20 minutes, clicked mandatory share of pictures and then back on Activa and Deo. Swati did little shopping from a local boutique. Now, I took on driving with Swati. I scripted the memory of driving longest way on an Activa that too in Goa.
The last beach remained was Calangute located just behind the Nova Casa hotel. It was so near to our place that we kept it as the last beach. It was getting more and more pleasant with a shying sun. Amid high waves, cold water and orange sky we counted minutes remaining with us, barely 100. We returned to the hotel and to our regular denims, packing bags, looking out for packets to carry heavy wet clothes. The reason why this trip will always bring a smile on my face is that it was my first ever trip with friends, that too with girlfriends. :)
The hotel boy had arranged an Innova that took us to Panji bus stop. And this was the end. Faces glowingly tanned and hearts happy yet not contended. No, we did not try to act or feel like Hrithik Roshan or Farhan Akhtar of ZNMD simply because you don't hear emotional background score in real life. What whirled in our mind and hearts was a sense of realisation, realisation of being together, being friends, being bind in rapture for 30 hours and a desire of being back again at some juncture of life in Goa with four friends and four fast track bags.
Khushboo, Swati and Mansi love you. Take care !!!
