Goa Diaries, February 2012, Part 2: Valentine's, Tattoos and Other Tales

Amchem Goa

A boat ride in the Aguada bay

The two of us gifted ourselves our first, and so far the only, tattoos on Valentine's in 2012. Where else could've we got it at other than our family-favourite and oft-frequented destination: Goa. This was also our first stay in Cavala Resort at Baga and also the first time that we drove to Goa in our Ford Figo. Cavala is a charming little hotel about 400 metres from Britto's restaurant in Baga. The room we got was a comfortable, standard AC room at ground level. The resort's swimming pool and poolside bar are located across the road in the other plot that belongs to the resort. Later in October, we went back to Cavala without our daughter. I might write about that trip - which ended in disaster because of things that happened on this trip - in another post.

The inn section of Cavala

Get Over It

Of the 430-odd kilometres from Kothrud, Pune to Baga, the stretch of National Highway till Nipani is a fantastic, and sleep-inducing, national highway. At Nipani, you turn right and climb through hills, forests, and sugarcane fields on the Ajara-Amboli stretch, all the way to Sawantwadi on the Mumbai-Goa highway, about ten kilometres before the Goa state border. Daughter dearest insisted that the CD of her favourite songs should get maximum playtime, which it did. It also gave Wife and me time to talk and mull over things, a lot of them. Besides the three of us, there was, metaphorically speaking, a fourth traveller, and this person increasingly became the reason for the restiveness that occupied our minds and cast a pall of gloom on what would've otherwise been a pleasant and memorable trip. Well, a "memorable" trip this certainly was! 

Just after getting the tattoo

To draw her out of the gloom, I narrated the story of the novel - every painstaking detail about the characters and who from the movie industry I imagined for which character - I intended to write. A year and four months later, I even completed the first draft, then titled 'Feast of the Kings'. 

'So not you,' she said about the story, involving two female protagonists. 'I think you should write fantasy or historical fiction. At least, fiction involving espionage and war. Drama in contemporary settings, I personally think, is not typical of you.' 

The objective, however, to keep our minds off that fourth person we didn't want to think of. For the rest of the drive, the narration and discussion worked. But the distraction was only transient.  

Heartache Tonight

The mobile phone rang several times that evening, eventually leading to an altercation between Wife and me, after we reached Goa. Four calls from Mumbai International Airport the first evening, then a call from Frankfurt Airport the next morning, and once again, from Chicago that evening with a Valentine's greeting in advance.

'And wish her a happy birthday on my behalf,' she said, referring to Wife as "her" as always. It was always "her" or "she", never the name. 'Her birthday is on Valentine's day, isn't it? Wow, nice!'

A battery of text messages followed, which bespoke of despair and heartache. Not a single one indicated any joy about being in the USA or with her husband, whom she was meeting after many months. And why was I so affected by her going away? I'd hugged and congratulated her after she had joyously returned from the US Consulate with a confirmed visa in her passport. So what was the aching in the heart, in both our hearts, I wondered.

Daughter at the poolside bar

Daughter's favourite spot in a resort: The pool

'Isn't she going to the US to join her husband?' the wife asked, infuriated, ignoring the birthday wish. 'Shouldn't she be happy to be joining him, that too in the USA for god's sake!'

Yes, she should've been, and that inexplicable despair was my dilemma as well. Wife and I sulked and didn't talk for the most part of the next morning, after which we eventually made peace over cocktails and vodka, and went to Britto's for lunch. There, we found a tattoo studio with photographs of celebrities and sportsmen getting themselves tattooed in the studio. So we got our tattoos done over there: Wife, a vine in an S shape with two colourful butterflies; and I, the mantra "Om Mani Padme Hum" in Tibetan script.

The view of the beach from Britto's

By evening, the melancholy between us dissipated and we decided to focus only on the three of us and the purpose of this trip. As the sun sank into the Arabian see, the lights and reggae music emanated from the beach shacks. The tables and cane chairs were laid out on the beaches with Chinese lanterns hoisted along the makeshift pathway to these open-to-sky-and-sea lounging area. We sat at the table of one of the shacks and ordered our family-favourites: Calamari in butter garlic sauce, french fries, chicken wings, and Budweisers (Mango juice for the princess).

Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone

Another highlight of this trip, and subsequent ones, were the karaoke sessions at St. Anthony's. There were quite a few good singers: a Mangalorean Catholic choir singer with lovely long hair and a mesmerizing voice; a chap called Doug who stressed that he was from Wales, not England, all the while transfixed on Wifey Dearest, who returned his attention. I managed a decent rendition of "Time of your Life" by Greenday and also tried, the Bill Withers classic, Ain't No Sunshine. I screwed up on the "I know, I know..." segment and also earned the wife's scorn - not for screwing up but for singing such a pertinent number.

The beers and cocktails, however, allayed the tension between us. Also, the "dance-breaks" in between the karaoke sessions and the flirtatious glances thrown around helped. Wife found an admirer in Doug, who dedicated a karaoke number to her and one for our daughter even! I think Wife and he also danced. Meanwhile, there was this rather pretty Punjabi woman with her husband, with whom I exchanged furtive glances. Later, Wife said that she clapped the loudest after I sang "Crazy Little Thing Called Love", and she also put up a slow, sinuous, rather seductive hip-sway in front of me when the Indipop number "Amplifier" blared on the music system.

Grilled lobster

Eventually, Valentine's Day - also Wife's birthday - went off well. We celebrated with a seafood platter and a lobster for lunch, and Wife's favourite Blueberry Cheesecake. On Valentine's night, a band performed "live" in Cavala, so there was more dancing and drinking, which further cleared the air between us. I stopped reading messages on the phone and ignored all calls, even a couple from my parents. We drove back to Pune on the 15th in peace, promising ourselves another trip soon.

At the end of the trip before we began the drive back to Pune