(L)eh!!!

Not Movies. Not Shopping. Not parties. Studies, no. Drugs and Alcohol, no. These things do not interest me. So what's a good life for me? Travel, I must say. There are a few other things, but I will not mention those here keeping in mind a target audience for this material.

Go Goa....

Though I have travelled to very few places in India, I feel that Goa is one of the best tourist destinations in the country. It is a personal favourite, atleast. So I was more than excited when AC suggested that we make a trip to Goa. No, you did not read it wrong, nor have I committed a typographical error. AC, short for Abhijeet Chatterjee, is a friend. Soon after, people in our office could see the 2 of us having frantic discussions with Pichu (another friend; there is a long and stupid story behind that name, so please don’t ask) and frantic planning calls to Nagu (Vijay Nagraj, another friend). And that, for the world, could mean only 1 thing; we were off to our next outing…..

And so, it was all decided. We would be leaving for Goa on the 1st of June and be back before the morning of 5th June. We would be driving in AC's car. And we knew nothing else. Everyone was pepped up and there detailed discussions on where we would be staying and what we would be doing, followed by non conclusions and oft repeated statements about why we should be planning so much when all our other trips have been so much unplanned and very much successful. And we knew that this trip would be no different when pichu dropped out of the plans citing personal reasons followed by apologies and requests begging us not to be inquisitive about those personal reasons (we came to know later that pichu was going be a papa). He was excused. At least the trip was on with the three of us. Then came the big blow. Nagu called up one morning. He sounded well-mannered and lost for words. There was no laughter, like that of a blushing hyena. It was evident that he would not be able to make it. The trip was doomed. But there was a silver lining. He would be able to make it a week later, if we could postpone. We called up AC and the answer was euphemistic. It seems that even AC had to attend to some urgent work on those very days but was perfectly fine making the trip a week later. The dates were as irrelevant to me as they are to any educated unemployed because that is what I am. All I cared was that I wanted to go out. A week more to go did make life miserable. But a week later is better than not at all.

And so, the crawl towards the destined day started. You could see me counting the number of hours to go every ten minutes or so. And one day, at about 1`O Clock at night, I had just finished computing the time left when my phone rang. It was my dad informing me that my uncle had passed away. I checked that there were 54 hours and 10 mins to go for departure. I was not sure who I was feeling sad for, my uncle's family or myself. The trip now seemed to be the one that would never be. But things turned out to be better than I had expected. People were not too stressed about my uncle passing away as he was old and suffering for a long time; in fact, some of them looked relieved. And so, with tongue in cheek, I asked my dad if I could still make the trip. He gave me a look I have known since childhood. It says "Since when have you become so important? I don’t think your presence or absence is going to make any difference here. Go ahead, my boy, do what you want to do". I didn’t know if I should be happy or sad. Anyways, I decided to be happy. We were going to Goa…

I was sure we were going only when I was firmly seated in AC's car. But the journey from the 2 points in time viz. the end of the previous paragraph and the beginning of this paragraph, wasn’t easy. There were a few hiccups. We had to postpone the journey by around twelve hours as AC was traveling for the past 2 days and needed some rest. So instead of starting on a Friday evening, we were starting on Saturday early morning. And early mornings always mean trouble, especially when AC is involved. I didn’t sleep the whole night dreading that AC would not wake up in the morning and we would be starting later than expected. And my fear seemed to be coming true when I did not receive any call at 5`o clock in the morning, the scheduled time. I called Nagu and there was no response. My hands were sweating so much I couldn’t hold the phone to call AC. Finally, at around 5.15, I got a call from AC. There was a scare as Nagu had woken up AC at 4.30 and then he himself was untraceable for some time. I thought he would have assumed that AC will anyways go back to sleep so he had done that himself. And forgotten all about a poor educated unemployed. But things looked bright again at around 5.35 when Nagu reached AC's house. After many "Chodu"s, "Lavdu"s and "Gaandu"s directed at nagu, we met. I couldn’t believe that after so many hiccups, we were on our way to Goa…..

By now, it was quite certain that we wouldn’t be able to make it to South Goa. It would take us the whole day. North Goa was nearer. So that is where we headed. The first pit stop was at Shree Datt, the famous fast food center on the outskirts of Panvel and an hour's drive from Mumbai. Let me tell you that it is never easy to decide what to eat at that place. It serves quite a few maharastrian delicacies like vada pav, poha, upma, sheera, sabudana khichdi and vada, etc. Compound that with the fact that both AC and me had not managed to flush our bowels clean because we usually operate in a time zone a couple of hours behind. So we all decided to the tread the safe path of poha and tea. AC and Nagu wanted a vada pav each as well. We managed to get the token from the cashier after nearly killing him. The conversation was something like this

Cashier: Kya chahiye?

Nagu: 1 poha aur 1 chai

Me: 1 poha aur 1 chai so total 2 poha aur 2 chai

Cashier: aur kuch?

AC to himself: 1 poha aur 1 chai aur 1 vada pav so total…?

AC to cashier: 3 poha aur 3 chai aur ek vada pav

Cashier looks at AC and says: 5 poha aur 5 chai aur 1 vada pav, right?

Nagu: Nahin re….(then to AC) tu kitna khaane waala hai?

AC: 1 poha aur 1 chai aur 1 vada pav

Cashier: 6 poha aur 6 chai aur 1 vada pav…. Aur kuchch?

Me: nahin, kuchch gadbad hai. 3 poha aur 3 chai aur 1 vada pav

AC: mere ko 1 poha aur 1 chai aur 1 vada pav…

Cashier types something….

Nagu: bhhnchhhed, sabko 1 1 chahiye to 6 kahan se ho gaya?

Me (the only smart fellow) : Chh*tiya log saala, gnnndu, total 3 poha, 3 chai aur 1 vada pav.

Cashier tears the old slip and keys the orders again

Nagu: mere ko 1 vada pav aur

Cashier keys in again

Me: mere ko bhi ek….(cashier keys in again)…..nahin rehne de, pet kharaab hai…(cashier tears the slip again

Nagu: 3 poha 3 chai aur 2 vada pav….(cashier keys in the order again)

AC: Ruk, kuchch gadbad hai….(cashier faints)

Having filled our stomachs, we got a few bottles of water, some snacks and chewing gum for the journey. We checked the time. We had spent around 30 mins there. "Not bad" we thought, not knowing what awaited us. We started the next leg of our journey with Ganpat. For the ignorant, Ganpat is the title of a song currently in rave. And Ganpat would dominate the rest of the trip. But not more than "farsh agarbatti". No, "farsh agarbatti" is not another song. It is a concept, something so deep that it will require a flashback. But now is not the time for that. We have more important things to do. Like having a second round of tea.

So after about an hour's drive, we halted at Kamats. There, both me and Nagu did potty in a toilet so clean that it, in Nagu's words, "tempts your shit out of your a**hole". They were clean, but then Nagu does have a reputation for exaggerating. Luckily, my shit didn’t need any tempting. Enough of this shit, time for some tea. And some dosas. We finished our break and started out again. Apparently, all this shit (pun intended) had taken us 45 mins, 45 precious mins. But we didn’t know how long the journey would be so we did not bother. The next stretch was a ghat. I was sitting in the back seat and my stomach did a couple of somersaults on top of my intestines, but I managed not to throw up. How to control that Ive learnt from my dog. It had the same problem. So while travelling by car, it would have the upper half of its body outside the car. It was as if it was all set to commit suicide. It took atleast 2 people to hold it back. How that helped I don’t know. Maybe the cool breeze on the face did the trick. So I followed his method, but only with my head and one arm outside the window, for I had no one to hold me back. But it worked. And we safely crossed Chiplun.

Soon, it was time for lunch. The only thing that stopped us from having it was the question of where do we have it. We wanted to eat at a hygienic place. But how do you determine if a place is worth eating in? Simple, by checking the exterior. If that looks clean and you see atleast 5 cars parked outside, it is hygienic. Strange are the ways in which a human mind operates. But that’s the way it is. Not that we did not find such places, but there was a catch. We were going at a speed 80 of kmph. And it was possible to check out the conditions indicating hygiene only when we actually came across the eatery. And by the time our eyes could capture the light reflected off the exterior and the parked cars, send it to the brain, which would then process the exterior and count the number of cars and determine the hygiene level and compare it against a chart indicating "Yes" or "No" and send that information to our mouths which moved the required muscles to make a sound like "WE CAN EAT HERE", the car would be at least half kilometer past that place. And we do not believe in using the reverse gear, as it is such a rear commodity (each car has only one). AC's brain would then direct his mouth to say something like "LVVVDE KA BAAL, PEHLE BOLNE KA THA NA" or "GNND MARRRAA". Numerous such places zipped by. Finally, at around 2 in the afternoon, we managed to find a place. Yes, we had to trouble the precious reverse gear to take a U-turn. Such is life.

After a lunch consisting of fish, vegetables, chapati, gossip, beer, bhhhnncchoods, madharchhhds and numerous other exotic curses, we started off on what we thought was the last part of the journey. It was almost 2 in the afternoon when nagu took over the driver's seat while I took on the DJ's mantle. AC was half drunk and half asleep in the backseat. The latest item numbers were no longer in flavour. I was in mood for some Rahman hits so we started off with YUVA. Nothing really happened in the next 2 hours as we crossed Chiplun. The whole drive was very scenic with lush green mountains on one side and a smooth flowing river on the other side of a long winding road. AC dozed off in the back seat. I was not allowed to. For the uninitiated, the person in the seat next to driver has a job of keeping the driver awake by constant chattering, taunting, cursing, punching, kicking or whatever means are necessary. Lucky for Nagu that he was not sleepy and I was in no mood to be violent. That is the effect of RAHMAN. At around 4 in the evening, we decided that it was time for a PEE & TEA break. Half an hour went by before we could decide on a decent place. The place that we decided on was by no means decent. It was a small tea shop near the Bus stop and was run by a lady who had nothing much to do at home and had no skills in doing anything outside. We ordered for special tea and some pakoras. That took some 20 mins to come. In the meanwhile, AC, in his usual restless state, started picking up things on the counter to see if anyone reacted. He somehow manages to provoke people and then tries to pacify them by saying stuff like "tension nahin lene ka, bhai hai na", "stress mat le yaar", "arre aunty, aap to burra maan gayin", etc. I am not too sure if he is aware of this trait of his. I think he is and he just does this to practice his client management skills. Fortunately or unfortunately, one of the things he picked up was a Marathi newspaper. Now let me inform you that Ac's relationship with Marathi is exactly opposite to my relationship with Sanskrit. While Ive learnt Sanskrit but never really claimed to know it, AC has not learnt Marathi but he thinks that he is quite good at it. A bengali born and brought up in Chhattisgarh and having worked in GOA is not expected to. But that is the charm of Bombay. It makes you feel that you can do anything. So when he started reading the headlines, it almost sounded like swahili. After a few sentences, I could not take it anymore and had to do something to stop him. But I could not do it directly as he would have been hurt (and eventually turned violent). So I gave an exclaimed look and said "kya baat kar raha hai? dikha dikha!!!" and took (or snatched) the newspaper from him and started reading it for him. After a few headlines, I came across a small article in the lower right hand corner. It read "gova rajyat udya matadan, don diwas daru bandi". I just couldn’t believe my eyes. When translated, it meant "Elections in Goa, dry day for 2 days". GOA and dry day couldn’t go together. There was no such thing as DRY ALCOHOL (unless you are referring to some substance like smack or cocaine) and GOA cannot be without alcohol. I just couldn’t believe it. When I told this to AC, he screamed "bhhheeennchod" so loudly, it almost killed the restaurant lady. She, in return, simply said "you guys should have checked before coming". Silly lady. Have you seen anyone who goes to google or Goa Tourism website to see if liquor would be available when they visit Goa? But atleast I should have. This is the second time I would be visiting Goa during a dry day. I swear I would never let this happen to me again. Anyways, that’s for the next time. This time, we were faced with the possibility of no daru during our stay in Goa. But it is said that where there is a will, there is a way. So we started looking at the options. We either stay back in Some nice part of Maharashtra so that we can drink as much as we want. Or we can go to Goa and survive without drinks. But AC ( and me) was in no mood to not have a hangover. And Nagu (and me) wanted to go to Goa. So we decided that we would get alcohol from somewhere in Maharashtra and carry it with us to Goa. So convenient.

The tea and pakoras that we got were one of the worst we had ever had. But we more important things to worry about. Like where we would get our liquor from and how we would smuggle it across the Maharashtra-Goa border. We thought we would find something in Sawantadi. It was a reasonably large town so finding a wine shop would not be difficult. This time, I took the driver's seat and AC was the DJ (or was it Nagu?). We kept driving and came across a bar in Sawantwadi. We thought of buying something from there. But I, the experienced gujarati, realised that we would spend double the money in a bar as compared to wine shop. Why pay more? It was just a matter of time before we would came across a wine shop. Isnt that the most easy place to find in any town? So kept on searching for a wine shop.

Have you heard of Murphy's laws? I discovered a new (really?) law. "Thou shall not get stuff that thou desires the most". We couldn’t find a wine shop in the whole "fucking" Sawantwadi. We went around the city center 3 times, asked 8 different people in 3 different languages and still couldn’t find it. As directed, we went left, then right, then straight, then right again, then left again and came to the same place from where we started. Then we went straight, then right, then left, then left again and came back to the same place. We then went back, turned right, then left, then left, then right and Vallah, we were 10 kms out of the city. It was starting to get dark. And then, it started raining. And raining, as Parag Balgi would have said it, like nobody's business. Suddenly, there was a hushed silence in the car and in the brain. The rains had completely dampened our spirit and there was no booze to lift it. We crossed the border in silence. The rains intensified. And suddenly, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Or, to be more specific, at the side of the road. And that belonged to a shop selling alcohol. Can you imagine that? The Gods wanted us to drink. AC bought a bottle of Old Monk. I wanted Blue Ribband that Nagu would share with me. But that was not available. The choice was now between Smirnoff and Alcazer. I got a bottle of the latter. The rain kept pouring, the light kept fading. We reached Mapusa at 8.00 pm after loosing our way once. We reached Baaga beach at 8.30. Then we had to choose where to stay. The resort that I had thought would be nice and economical was nice and economical only for those who earned a 10 figure salary. In the end, we chose something that was closest to the beach and more economical than the others. That’s it. Nothing else worth writing about that place except that the funny guy who managed the hotel was a bengali. So every thing he spoke had that stamp all over. And me and Nagu made a lot of fun of him but didn’t share that with AC. We couldn’t afford AC getting violent when he was drunk and we were holed up in the hotel room. We ordered some food and got soft drinks to mix with our drinks from the bong guy.

Let me tell you something about Alcazer. It’s a vodka that, I think, has the smoothest taste for anything that costs as less. And that it is best enjoyed with friends. Mix 45 ml in the same amount of water and double the amount of Limca or Sprite. Add a bit of lemon if you want. Stir well, cheers and enjoy. There was only one problem here, that these were not the friends that were capable of enjoying gin. I am surprised that you are surprised to hear this. No, it does not mean that Nagu and AC are not good friends. In fact, these 2 gentlemen are perfectly pleasant company. Just that they don’t like gin. Lets see why. Imagine that you stitch a perfect suit and try to make an ape wear it. What do you think would happen? The ape in the question out here is AC. Now imagine that you take an aborgini and make him listen to a Pink Floyd song. What would happen? The aborgini in the question here is Nagu. We made our drinks an sat down in the balcony, AC with his Old Monk and Me and Nagu with our Alcazer. There was a nice table and couple of can chairs. We banged our glasses together, cheered and had our first sip. While Nagu took his first sip, kept looking at him in anticipation of superlatives about what he had just tasted. His reaction was similar to that of dog who has just sniffed your poo. He first twitched his nose (just the nose, no other part of his face). Then he looked up in the air as if searching for something very far. He looked down as if trying to pull out something from deep within himself. A few more puzzling looks that can only be seen, not put in words followed. All this, while AC kept looking at his glass. I thought he was trying to see if merely staring at the drink would give him a high. Imagine how much money that would save him. He just needs to stare at the glass with a drink everyday evening. And when he felt good enough, he can keep it back in the fridge. Simple. Anyways, Nagu now took another sip. Gave a few other vague expressions and then said "Iss mein se AGARBATTI ka smell aa raha hai". Can you imagine how it feels when someone does that? No? It feels as if a girl whom you have been secretly admiring for last 2 years comes and tells you that you smell like tandoori chicken. Now you know how I felt? Are you with me? I mean, you don’t know whether she thinks that smelling like tandoori chicken is good because she just loves it. or is this something bad because you are supposed to smell like the bark of some tree or some flower. I had similar thoughts in my mind. Does he mean that it is good? I mean, I like the smell of incense. Don’t we all light incense in our homes during poojas and special occasions? Or is it something bad? I like the smell but that doesn’t mean I want to consume it. So I did what was the best possible thing to do. I asked him what that meant. By now you know Nagu well enough, so you know that the answer would not be an easy one. He thought for sometime with an expression that would have been on John Nash's face when he was inventing the Game Theory. Then he said " I don’t know, but it definitely smells like Agarbatti". I realised that I was heading for a difficult time. So I decided to use as many lifelines as I could.

Me: Good to hear that you are enjoying it

Nagu: Nahin re, kuchch gadbad hai

Me: Peene se pehli hee chadhh gayi hai

Nagu: Nahin re. Iss mein kuchch gadbad hai

Me: abey lavde, tu pehli bar pee raha hai isliye lag raha hai.

Nagu: Nahin re, Arre AC dekh na ismein Agarbatti ka khooshboo aa raha hai!

AC: (looking at his glass, in bengali accent) heeeiiiinnnnnnnnnnn?

Me: Abey pee re

Nagu: Main nahin pee paunga

Me: Tu chutiya ho gaya hai

Nagu: Ismein mera kya galti hai

Me: Tere ko peene se pehle hi chadhh gayi hai. Chup chap pee

Nagu: Saty, tu samajh nahin raha hai yaar. AC, isko samjha na

AC: (looking at his glass, in bengali accent) heeeiiiinnnnnnnnnnn?

Me: Kya samjhoon?

Nagu: Ismein Agarbatti ki khushboo aa rahi hai

Me: Abey woh Alcazer hai, cycle brand agarbatti nahin hai

Nagu: Woh pata nahin lekin ismein se ajeeb sa smell aa raha hai

Me: Abey AC, isko samjha na

AC: (looking at his glass, in bengali accent) heeeiiiinnnnnnnnnnn?

Nagu: Nahin yaar, main yeh nahin pee paunga

Me: Yaar, tu natak mat kar abhi. Trust me, yeh achcha hai

Nagu: Yaar, sach mein iss mein se Agarbatti ka khushboo aa raha hai...

Me:………………

Me:Nagu………..

Me:……………………...

Me:Nagu………

Me:…

Me:Nagu………………….

Me:…………

AC: (looking at his glass, in bengali accent) heeeiiiinnnnnnnnnnn?

Me:Nagu………..

Me:………………

Me:Nagu……………………..

Me:……………….

Me:Nagu………………………………..

Me:………………………………………….

Me:Nagu………………………………………...

Nagu managed to finish just half of his drink. I finished just 1. AC had finished his drink and gone to sleep long back. Me and Nagu then thought of attacking the food. We had ordered for some chinese rice, noodles and gravy. Sounds delicious, doesn’t it? Well, was nowhere close to delicious. In fact, it tasted like it had been fried in paraffin. Or maybe we were too drunk . Or too tired. I think both. Anyways, the two of us managed to eat half of what was there on the platter and then slipped into bed, already half asleep before our heads hit the pillow.

Do you work?

Yes? For what? For money? For fun? So that you can stay away from your family for at least some part of the day? There can be a variety of reasons. But do these reasons justify your spending of at least 1/3 of your life doing something that you wouldn't do with the first opportunity you may get?

I think that only those who would continue doing what they do even if they don't get paid for it are really living well. I know it sounds impractical but then that's me! Would you go to your job tomorrow if they stop paying you? I know that money is very important. But what if you had enough to ensure that all your's and your family's material needs are taken care of? Would you go back to that job that doesn't pay? I don't think your answer is positive. Even I might not. But then, I might. I try to enjoy what I do. I try to introduce real quality in it. I get sleepless nights if I don't work well, if I don't give it my hundred percent. Do you? I cannot switch off as soon as I am out of office. Can you? Its like saying that you stop thinking of God as soon as you are out of the temple. Or that you stop thinking about your wife and kids as soon as you are out of the house. Do you approach your work with the same sincerity that you would show to the most important thing in your life? After all, if you spend at least 1/3 of your life working, isn't it the most important thing in your life?

There is no other book that makes me think all this than Robert Pirsig's "Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance". And in that, what impresses me most is this extract from a speech by none other that Albert Einstein. Here's what he says...

In the temple of science are many mansions -- and various indeed are they that dwell therein and the motives that have led them there. Many take to science out of a joyful sense of superior intellectual power; science is their own special sport to which they look for vivid experience and the satisfaction of ambition; many others are to be found in the temple who have offered the products of their brains on this altar for purely utilitarian purposes.

Were an angel of the Lord to come and drive all the people belonging to these two categories out of the temple, it would be noticeably emptier but there would still be some men of both present and past times left inside -- . If the types we have just expelled were the only types there were, the temple would never have existed any more than one can have a wood consisting of nothing but creepers -- those who have found favor with the angel -- are somewhat odd, uncommunicative, solitary fellows, really less like each other than the hosts of the rejected.What has brought them to the temple -- no single answer will cover -- escape from everyday life, with its painful crudity and hopeless dreariness, from the fetters of one's own shifting desires. A finely tempered nature longs to escape from his noisy cramped surroundings into the silence of the high mountains where the eye ranges freely through the still pure air and fondly traces out the restful contours apparently built for eternity.


Do you feel like this when you are working? If yes, then you are not working, you are enjoying your life. If you don't, you are just working, for the sake of working.