Goa's OK!

Finally, in my almost 26 years of existence, I managed to make a trip to what I had held so far as the most overhyped tourist destination in this country. After the trip, I was humbled!
My finances were tight to begin with and this had promised to be an expensive trip. It lived up well to the same. Hence, no souvenir shopping, no binging on alcohol, no trance parties (I couldn't care less) and much to my good friend Manojitda's woes, no sex with strangers (or acquaintances either)!
So there were no souvenirs, or were they? I brought along with me snippets in my mind I shall hold on to for a long time. No epiphany, nothing out of the ordinary but a genuine joy that was very, very personal is what I carried back.
I probably was the most boring tourist in the history of Goa tourism but Arambol was love at first sight and there was absolutely no scope for infedility. So there I swore to stay my entire stay.
Be it the cottages me and my four mates rented, the lake between them, Stanzin, Phunti and gang - our absolutely wonderful hosts, the 3AM walks on the beach or the mind numbingly beautiful fresh water lake I discovered on the second day, it seemed like this was my very own, very personal.
The five of us had our bit of fun in our own way. While the rest decided to hop around beaches, get drunk, go clubbing and some such, I was at my best savouring every inch of the Arambol beach, swimming alone into the sea, spending my evenings by my cottage and the subtly lit lake, singing myself hoarse with Phunti going crazy on the guitar later in the night and of all the lovely food Goa has to offer, gorging on Dal-chawal throughout.
There was something incredible to the extent of being divine as I walked the length of the beach woefully early Monday morning. There was this sense of invinciblity as I sang aloud while a rough sea roared. All modesty aside, I never thought I sounded better.
By Monday evening, there was this bittersweet me. I would be lying if I said that "Fuck! I wish I didn't have to leave". But I knew I was going to miss this place. As I hugged Stanzin, Phunti, Om and the rest, my eyes were moist. Come to think of it, I never knew these guys before and these were just the people who owned and managed a retreat I chose to stay at.
But there was something very humbling about this trip, about the place, about the people I met there. Something I've never felt during any other vacation of mine.
There are things I need to thank everyone and everything there for. Thank you Stanzin, for giving me my first hash joint years after I thought I had given up. Not to mention the free whiskeys and the absolutely delicious banoffee pie. You were right, it's completely worth getting caught stealing the pie from the kitchen as many times as you claim. Thank you Stanzin for letting us into that gorgeous little heaven you've built.
Thank you Phunti for sharing your music with me, for strumming the guitar late into the morning without complaining. Thanks for the gorgeous parting words, "Bipro, keep on singing always". I sure shall!
Thank you Om, Girish and Raju for ensuring every bit of comfort. Not to mention the incredible favour of running down to the market each time I ran out of cigarettes.
Thank you Arambol for being so beautiful and so scaringly alive. I've felt you sing along as the seas roared while I sang to you and the starriest sky I've ever seen. I've felt you smiling as I held my mates while on their drunken stupor. I've felt you urging to walk on that sunny afternoon when I tiringly thought I had nothing else to discover and then I reached the fresh water lake around the hills.
Thank you Goa for giving me three gorgeous days (and an incredible tan).
Back at my work desk Tuesday morning, I find a small piece of paper neatly cut to take the shape of a bracelet; on which hand scribbled are the words, "Enjoy Goa!" :) The trademark handicraft tells me it is Mansi. Why thank you Ms. Kelkar because I sure did!

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All things bright and Biprorshee