When they walked little over half-a-mile they found a nude western couple totally unmindful of their presence. At first, they were embarrassed at the sight. They looked at each other but remained silent. But as they walked further north, they saw more nude males and females in clusters. It was obvious that they were not necessarily couples. From their appearances it occurred to Rana that they were hippies. Then it became apparent that behind those tall grasses and wooded areas there were hundreds of shacks built primarily for local visitors frequenting the beach with their families. But at the time of their visit those shacks were occupied by the hippies. Keka did not realize that. So she said in disgust, “Shameless people. How can they remain naked like that in presence of the civilized world?”
Rana said, “From their looks it appears they are hippies. You have read and heard about them. Now you are seeing them with your own eyes. They do not have shame. That is why they have made themselves social outcasts even in their own countries. We all knew that in India and Nepal they were in some far-off Himalayan towns. Unfortunately, I had no idea that they invaded Goa also.”
Keka said, still visibly upset, “They are disgusting. Why can’t the police arrest them?”
Rana answered, “I am just guessing that there might be two reasons why they could get away with their wrong doing. One, they bribe the meager police force when they come. Consequently, the police look the other way. And two, there are no local laws about arresting nude people because before the hippies arrived no one here knew about nudity in public.”
Keka said, “I think you are right. But the pity is that they have spoiled such a pristine beach. Good people with family and children will not be able to come here.”
Rana said, “There is no doubt about that. We have not seen any children in our hotel. There are only couples like us and they are mostly foreigners. They are used to see hippies in Europe and America and seem to ignore them. I think we should ignore them also. We cannot disturb our peace for them in our honeymoon.”
By that time, Keka calmed down a little. She quietly said, “Yes, you are right. We should also ignore them.”
After walking about two miles they decided to return to the hotel. Sunset was about thirty minutes away. Sun looked much paler. Temperature dropped substantially. They felt little chill in the air. That was not unexpected in the second week of February. Officially, they were still in winter. Approaching close to the hotel they stopped to see the sunset from the beach. Most of the people left the beach, even those who were playing beach soccer just below the hotel complex. As the sun came down slightly above the water, calm prevailed in the atmosphere. A formation of birds was returning to their nest for another night of deserving rest. The earth was preparing to say good-bye to another day.
They held their hands together to mark another sunset and looked at each other with smiles of happiness written all over their faces. Together they had seen many sunsets sitting on the banks of the River Ganges, but nothing like this. They had never seen the orange glow of the sun that big. Suddenly, out of nowhere they saw a boat in the middle of that orange glow. That was an absolutely spectacular sight. A fisherman must have been returning home from another day of fishing on the high seas. Obviously, somewhere in close proximity there was a fisherman’s village.
Rana put his right arm around her shoulder and said, “We will see many more sunsets probably from our balcony in Bombay, probably from Marine Drive or may be standing on one of the beaches in the suburbs or elsewhere. But this sunset will never be repeated in our lives. So, this one will forever remain frozen in my mind.”
Keka said, “This indeed is indescribable. But why are you saying it will never be repeated in our lives?”
Rana looked at her eyes and said with a smile, “Because everything on this earth keeps changing every moment. Even if we come here tomorrow precisely at the same time, sun’s position will change; its brightness will change; the speed and direction of the wind will change; the atmosphere will change; the visibility will change; the sea will be more or less turbulent; the beach will be wider or leaner; physically we may be better or worse and the state of mind will be different. Today we are on the first day of our honeymoon, tomorrow we will move one day away from it.”
While they were talking, the last tip of the sun went down under the ocean. Rana asked, “Then what should we do?”
Keka responded, “What do you think?”
Rana again smiled enigmatically and said, “We should com memorate the moment.”
Saying this, he took out of his pocket a beautiful brooch made of 24 carat gold, inscribed “First Moon,” to signify the first day of honeymoon and pinned it on her dress. There was no one around them and he kissed her.
Keka said, “I already named you ‘Mr. Surprises.’” Both of them laughed.
Then they briskly went back to their cottage to freshen up. Since morning they were on the road and the beach. They needed to take some rest also before going for the dinner. While changing her dress Keka took out the brooch and looked at it very appreciatively. When Rana pinned it up on her dress she could not really see it. Now reading the inscription on the brooch, she asked, “Why ‘First Moon’ is inscribed on it?”
Rana answered, “These are the code words meant for us only, signifying the First Day of Honeymoon.”
Then Keka said, “It was so thoughtful of you to choose this gift. Though we will have all the photos of the visit I don’t have to look at them always. Just a glance at the brooch will bring back the memories of our honeymoon in a second.”
Rana said, “I am glad that you realize the purpose behind this gift. That is why God has chosen you as my companion for life.” She smiled appreciatively.
Be that as it may, next morning after the breakfast the tourist van came to pick them up for a tour of the capital city Panjim and Old Goa about 9 kilometer east of the capital. Panjim, often known as Panaji, was the new capital since the time the capital moved from Old Goa a couple of centuries ago. However, due to the fact that the distance between Old Goa and Panjim was just 9 kilometers, the old capital appeared to be an extension of the new capital. The main attractions of the new and old capitals combined were the Governor’s Palace and more than half-a-dozen splendid cathedrals which were older than the advent of British Colonialism on Indian soil. The Adil Shahi Palace of the sixteenth century which was converted to Viceroy’s Palace during the colonial days, has been reconverted to Governor’s Palace.
Having visited the Mughal and Rajput palaces, the old Adil Shahi Palace did not create a big impression on Keka. Yet a palace has a different connotation about the bygone eras and they were happy to see it anyway. However, any other object of touristic attraction in the extended capital is dwarfed by the spectacular churches of varied Portuguese-European architecture. They were more like cathedrals because they were either the only church or the principal church of the diocese and the Bishop’s throne was in the church building itself. The sheer number of cathedrals in such a small place gave the capital of Goa an aura of divinity, a place of pilgrimage even for the people of different faiths and there were more tourists of different faiths than Christians. The Portuguese dominance over the seas during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries and their wealth at that time was evident from the huge amount of money spent on these cathedrals.
Both Keka and Rana were educated in the missionary schools and colleges associated with the global denominations. But they had never seen such massive cathedrals of grandeur and opulence anywhere in India before. It appeared to them that the architects and craftsmen who were brought from Portugal and other places of Europe to design and build these structures, simply put their heart and soul into them, showing a high degree of creativity by mixing and merging Gothic, Baroque, Tuscan, Corinthian and other styles of European architecture.
Having satisfied their visual, mental and spiritual quest, the evening was the time to satisfy the palate and the appetite. Dinner was arranged at a homestead restaurant near Murmagao about twenty
miles away. It was just after dusk. There was a nip in the air. The drive appeared longer primarily because traffic was slower on a single lane two way road.
Sitting in the tourist bus they looked at each other and smiled, being still under the spell of those mediaeval churches.
Rana said, “Keka, looks like you are a little tired.”
Keka asked, “Why are you saying so?”
Rana responded, “When I see you quiet, I get nervous. Perhaps you are very hungry.”
She said, “No, don’t worry about that. I am still thinking about those churches. Who would believe that in a small town like that with a population of less than five thousand, there are seven-eight extra-ordinary churches, which were originally founded during the early sixteenth and seventeenth centuries? I have written down the names of the churches with their original founding dates. For me it was also a day of learning. You don’t get to read these in any history book; you learn by seeing them in real life as a tourist.”
He replied, “Yes, you are right. It was very fulfilling. I believe the invisible hand of God guided us to this honeymoon. I did not have any idea there were so many spectacular churches here. I knew of only two, that of St. Xavier and St. Francis.”
Changing the subject Keka asked, “You said that we are going to the home of a family to have our dinner. Why would they invite us? Are they known to someone in your Bombay office?”
Rana laughed and said, “This would be another new experience for us. Some upper middle class families converted a part of their houses into restaurants, serving Goan sea food and drinks. All the family members help in running the restaurants. They cook, they serve and the profit remains in the family. This is the first time for me also. Let’s go and see what novelty is awaiting us.”
Keka smiled an encouraging smile. Rana knew she was looking forward to it. In a short while, the driver and guide said that they were close to the house. That part of the town was secluded. Perhaps that was the sign of being well-to-do. The driver drove to the front iron gate but it was locked from inside. He went round to the rear gate which was wide open. That was a nice-looking, colonial type large house fenced all around with concrete and iron fence. Usually, the reservations had to be made in advance for a group of people. For reasons of security and credit risk the reservations were generally made through the hotels. There were no waiters or waitresses, only the family members. In that particular case, the husband and wife and their two daughters were cooking, bartending and serving at the same time. Understandably, for that homestyle care, prices were also double the restaurant prices. As in the hotel, so also in that restaurant, some specialty was waiting for Keka and Rana, the honeymoon couple. Besides, Rana had earlier arranged through his hotel a box of Portuguese chocolate and a bouquet of red roses for Keka at the end of the dinner. When those were given to her in presence of other guests, she was overwhelmed. To his pleasant surprise, the newly emancipated Keka said, “Rana, I cannot thank you enough for these beautiful roses and delicious chocolates.”
Rana said, “Thank you for calling by my actual name. This was long overdue.”
Next day the minibus took them to Candolim, Calangute and Baga beaches north of Sinquerim beach, which was the site of Fort Aguada. They took that opportunity to ascertain if there was any other resort in those beaches better than Fort Aguada. They did not see any. As a result, they had to shelve Rana’s original idea to move to Calangute beach for the last four days of their stay because it appeared to be too congested by virtue of being popular. As a beach Calangute was wider, whiter and prettier. It was a shallow beach and less dangerous. Even five hundred yards into the sea the water was just thigh high. However, it was too crowded to be of comfort. Nevertheless, Rana gave the choice to Keka. He asked her, “Keka, what do you want to do? Do you prefer this place or you are happy where you are?”
Keka was always reasonable and somewhat old fashioned. She would put his liking ahead of hers. She answered, “Whatever you decide is good for me.”
Rana smiled at her and said, “That is an everyday type answer. You have your choice too. This is your honeymoon too. I chose the first hotel. Fortunately, you liked it. Now I would rather go by your choice.”
Then Keka became a family person. She began comparing the cost and benefit, saying, “Fort Aguada is a classy hotel. Naturally, the price is classy too. Perhaps even a big hotel on this beach may be cheaper.”
Rana said, “Keka, I appreciate your concern for expenses. However, honeymoon usually comes but once in a lifetime. The entire life will be in front of us to look for ways to save money. Honeymoon is the time to enjoy. I have brought you here to be happy and carefree. Price is secondary. I take it you love our cottage on top of the hill at Fort Aguada and want us to spend rest of our honeymoon there. If I am wrong tell me I am wrong.”
Keka looked at him and smiled a happy smile, but did not say anything. Silence is golden. Rana took her silence as assumed consent and said, “I love you more because you are so considerate.”
Keka said, “I cannot express adequately how much I am enjoying the honeymoon because you are so caring and accommodating.”
The unpremeditated choice of Goa as the place of their honeymoon was providential. Most importantly, Keka loved it without reservation. From the seashore to the villages on top of the hill, from people to service, from churches to palaces everything was great for her. That was a very special quality to find, but was one of the many traits of her character. Touching her heart was easy. Every gift that Rana bought for her, every restaurant that they had had their meal in, every sight-seeing spot they visited, brought undiluted smile on her face and joy to her soul. Even a stone would love a woman like that.
Seven day’s time in the River of Life is a drop in the ocean. They passed like the twinkle of a star, but left an indelible mark in Rana’s mind. He saw a new Keka. Her extra-ordinary qualities of understanding and calmness under any circumstances; her ability to resist the impulse of doing or buying anything just because money was available was something that he appreciated dearly. He felt like pouring in all the abundance of the earth for a wife like that. Through the five years of courtship Rana learnt that daily little gestures like a surprise gift, a small greetings card tucked under a bottle of perfume or a lovely powder puff, or a small bouquet of roses after dinner keep the glow of love kindled forever. Those lessons came handy during the honeymoon. On the last night of their celebration, while she was fast asleep on his shoulder, Rana saw in the serenity of her unsuspecting face a sign of blind trust and supreme confidence in him. He heaved a sigh of relief and happiness and said to himself if the chord strung was of harmony let the tune play through the rest of the life; if the candle lit was of faith let it shine all the way to the end of togetherness.
CARING LIFE TOGETHER
Mysterious are the ways of the River of Life how it puts people together with meticulous planning to establish the groundwork for their assigned roleplay far into the future, keeping the players completely in the dark. What appears simple and innocuous today becomes a matter of paramount importance at a future date. Thus the River of Life, infinitely ancient yet forever young and agile, dances its way to its nimble destiny, the ever enigmatic Eternity.
Rana’s new job at the corporate office required him to coordinate the activities of the branches of the bank in greater Bombay. That was a new position created to bring greater control over the new branches in the suburbs and to oversee the continued training need of the staff. As such, Rana became extremely busy right from the start of his tenure of office in the new place. He was the first one to come to the office and the last to go. So he had a little apprehension that Keka might be feeling lonely.
Keka’s aunt Dipa was a member of the YWCA since her college days in Calcutta. At the time Keka and Rana arrived in Bombay, she was an empty nester. Her two daughters were married and living with their husbands far away from Bombay. If Dipa had any problem, it was navigating her time. She encouraged Keka to join he
r to do some volunteer work at YWCA during the day time when Rana would be at work. So between her own household chores, her Aunt Dipa and the volunteer work at YWCA Keka kept herself busy during the week days. On weekends and holidays, enjoying the beaches and holiday spots of greater Bombay with Rana became the core of Keka’s new life. And she had no complaints about anything.
However, no reference to her venture into YWCA would be complete unless one queer incident involving one of her friends in the association is told for the benefit of the readers. Her friend’s name was Iris Gonsalves. Like many Goanese women Iris was very pretty, congenial and outgoing. As a career woman, she was the Executive Assistant to the Public Relations Director of one of the British multinationals sharing the same building complex with Rana’s bank. Her family was from Vasco da Gama about twenty miles from Panjim, the capital of Goa. Her father was an officer of the Western Railways, a division of Indian Railways, headquartered in Bombay. Only recently her parents went back to Vasco da Gama to enjoy their retirement in the quiet of Goa. Iris had a boyfriend named Vish.
At Keka’s invitation Iris and Vish had dinner with them couple of times at their residence. One evening, out of nowhere, Keka and Rana got involved in an unusual emotional debacle of Iris with far-reaching implications. Early that evening, Iris got back from work to her lodge at YWCA and found a young lady waiting for her at the lobby. Iris introduced herself with her characteristic congenial manner and asked the lady how she could be of help to her. She thought the young lady was a new comer to the city and dropped by to seek her help to obtain a temporary accommodation at YWCA. On the contrary, the young lady almost pounced on her saying she was the wife of Vish. She said Iris should be ashamed of her conduct and accused her of leading a scandalous life with a married man. She went as far as calling Iris a vampire, destroying her family life. She threatened Iris with dire consequences unless she left her husband alone. She added that she would not leave that place without resolving the matter. The management of the YWCA called in the police quietly. The police officer persuaded the young lady to leave the place for that evening. By that time Iris became an emotional wreck. In the first place, she was shocked to learn that Vish was married and in the second, she was devastated at that very public embarrassment. She called Keka when they were taking dinner at home.
A Bend in the River of Life Page 15