Mush is in the air

I’m gonna choke..

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those Valentine’s Day cynics. I think it is almost sweet that the world goes cuckoo for a day every year and people actually make an effort to buy flowers/chocolates for one another..its the mush that’s killing me…and also the pressure to get my own ‘Valentine’ (gag!!)

I fail to understand why a perfectly content independent single woman NEEDS to hook up just so she can expect some pamperin’ and some lovin’ on Feb 14..hello? Not getting a bunch of red roses is definitely not gonna kill me…but the attack of the heart-shaped things just might.

Well, I am kinda broke and am making plans with my equally broke friend and her boyfriend. Something on these lines…fresh, homemade khichdi, my terrace, some candles and me as ‘kebab mein haddi’…and some mango pickle thrown in to spice things up!

Ok, I must admit I’m dressed in pink today and am idiotically wishing all a great Valentine’s Day…why not, unless cupid strikes for all the wrong reasons, I’m good…

Except that I will be on a look-out for all the furry things with red hearts and ‘I heart you’ written all over them…help!

Sick of being sick

Some of us are blessed with good health and some of us are not…I happen to belong to the kind that need to stay off delicious street food for the fear of food poisoning, stay away from anyone who coughs for the fear of attracting the virus, and stay off sunshine for the fear of getting a heat stroke…I find the robust, red, ruddy health of the blessed ones extremely painful…

I’d been sick for the past 2 weeks and now I’m better…thank god..I hate feeling helpless in sickness..absolutely hate the sense of un productiveness ill-health brings and hate the sense of sympathy that illness invites…hate it, hate it!

I’ve made a list that I’m gonna stick to….milk everyday, iron tablets supplements everyday, good food, home food, visits to the doctor even if I sneeze, fruits and vegetables in big helpings regularly, regular exercise, the works…I’m announcing it to world so there’s no way I’d back out..I’m gonna live the healthy life and I’m gonna take care of myself..Amen

The morning after

Sigh!….sigh!….sigh again..

Goa was fantastic. I refused to believe the trip was actually happening till we reached Panjim and started to bargain with the cab-wala. That’s when it gripped my senses…the sheer joy of being there..the salt in the breeze, the beach, the sunset, the reunion, the happiness…all came rushing back from the deep abyss of memory…just when I bought my first cup of tea in Goa and paid a tip of Rs. 5 for good luck.

Five of us holed up in the hole-in-the-wall room at ‘auntie’s place’. Two minutes from Anjuna beach, two minutes from sheer bliss and about half a second away from anticipation. We hit Curlie’s within an hour of getting to Anjuna..sigh..that place…that place!!!

Strawberry pancakes with beer never tasted so good before. At Curlie’s roof top..sound of lounge trance, nature-flavoured air and the sight of a pink German and a brown Indian playing beach tennis against the backdrop of the 3 fabled boulders at the ocean on high tide…sigh! I did not even have the time to realise I was there…

I missed the sunset on the first day. Went to 9 bar and tasted paranoia for a bit instead. Happiness and fear collided for a bit, mistrust and friendship collided for a bit, and finally good sense and stupid joy collided for a bit. A friend lost his way in all the hallucinations and I sobered up. Had curd on the rocks, outside a classy diner, like outcasts from a plan. Took an extremely confusing taxi ride back to Anjuna. Spent the rest of the evening making sense of hip-shaking bollywood extravaganza on the small screen. Talked with the Goa shadows in the dark till I fell asleep…

Friends from Manipal and Bombay arrived the next morning..we the one-day veterans lazed out and overdosed on tea and honey pancakes while the novices crashed the beach…

Ah, the beach! Anjuna beach….its one of those places where nothing counts…not money, not deadlines, not any of the commitments we take on and keep till we die…none of that…its only you and the ocean, you and the sights, you and the sounds, you and the sheer pleasure of peace and contentment, you and stars, enticing you to see what’s not there and lose yourself for one sweet moment…Anjuna…sigh!

Participated in others’ illusions, happinesses and plans for a bit….saw the gorgeous sunset…ah, the sunset!…somethings in life are worth dying for..somethings are worth living for…Sunset at Anjuna is both…for that 20 minutes nature dazzles you, its such a personal thing to share with others, a sunset…I shared mine with strangers at the beach…my friends, a little afro girl feeding a pup, a coconut-water woman, junkies from all over finding meaning, wannabes yearning some hip-hop, philosophers taking in the colours…everyone…strangers…sharing the sunset..sharing the reds and the yellows and the purples all at once…the sun as an ally and a foe, at the same time…sigh…sunset at curlies…

What followed was a death ride to 9 bar…really a death ride…the ride wasn’t deadly, I was…for a precious few moments, I was closer to Nirvana and closer to death…prayers kept me company and brought me back..lost myself in the sounds and the corresponding sights at 9 bar again…rode back

Went on a semi-conscious wild goose chase halfway across Goa looking for a birthday cake..cut the ceremonial dessert at curlie’s and passed out in the room..locking out 8 friends forcing them to find solace and slumber at the curlie’s roof…

Spent the birthday morning lazing out in auntie’s veranda…tea and smoke, tea and smoke….more tea and more smoke….bonded with friends….fretted about having to go back…fantasized about the hippie life for a bit..ate rustic goan lunch in a daze..fretted some more till it was time to go…sigh!

Sigh…sigh…sigh!…and thus the bus ride back begins and my story ends…..SIGH!