The beaches here are shallow they say, so the holiday crowd was out.
Families with older parents, siblings, kids were one type, young couples with really small kids another, friends who have come with their partners, all boy gangs, all girl gangs - the social profile changes as we go closer to the more elite places. There are those who jump into the sea, those who simply sit on the beach, those who guard footwear, selfie wala, reel walas where the girls are dressed out for the shoot and have a whole sequence planned like jumping in the air or dancing or running or walking.
Then there are those like me just walking (just a few), quite a few walking dogs (there are so many of them here), kids playing football (they are so good), cricket (not good at all - I watched one guy swing at an off spin bowler and while walking past the short mid wicket told him that the batsman will get out caught in the deep and the very next ball he got out, I turned and could see the look of wonder in the fielders eyes like it was magic... These things we know by practice and I afforded a smile at having shared some magic).
Walk, walk, walk, a girl gang, urban, up market, in their bikinis drinking and smoking on the beach and getting ready for the evening, a bunch of young boys drinking beer with two old prostitutes, massage girls who got one lonely lady and got into business, a bunch of kids who hit their cricket ball into the sea and the sea deciding to keep it, and even four elderly ladies swigging one large beer each and engaged in serious conversations. I counted five or six foreigners in all, all of them weather beaten and who looked like they have been here forever, one very fit Russian couple, some elderly ones. A playful couple throwing sand art one another. A lady was working with a team of photographers to create some shoot. I had to cross some boulders to get a look at what was perhaps Mandrem beach.
Along the way I tried to remember the names of the shacks - Xaviers, Tomatos, The Last Shack, Blue Turtle, Farzi, Morjim Culture, Tikit, Leela, Amanos, Tan Sand...of course there were many more but these stuck. People gazing into the sea and making the most of an experience, perhaps some for the first time, people gearing up for the unknown adventures as they look to party, drink, hook up, an energy that's palpable, older couples rewarding their years of togetherness, families keeping their happiness in check lest something goes wrong, the shy girl walking into the water with her partner wearing her swimsuit, the young bride wearing something daring for her husband and fighting her value system inside.
One wonders how many lives changed in Goa, how many memories lie around (I have a few). Hopes, dreams, aspirations, regrets, love, beginnings, endings, memories, expansion. You feel like gathering them all in one huge hug and saying, you'll be ok, don't worry. Just let go and have a good time.
On the way back i could see the lifeguards pulling people back from the water, warning them that high tide was coming in. I saw the owner of Artist Beach House and her husband walking the dog and thought they had not seen me but she did and waved and I waved back.
And that's what Goa will be to us - an unknown excitement of the forbidden, of freedom to be whatever one wants, of the chasm between wanting that freedom and never having the courage to let go of the life that secures us. And so, after a few days, we go back to our lives, having sampled the magic, even though vicariously. And that's when i feel like buying that T shirt that says 'I love Goa'.
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