Journey 1

Someday I will write about my spiritual journey that started in Goa. Goa has transformed me and its reminisces are still reshaping me. I often recall, while I'm on my way to office   in an auto-rickshaw or a cab, a thousand miles away from Goa, as the sun sets behind me, at least twice a day, how I lived those five days in Goa. And more often I question the person I am. I make mistakes more often than I don't and love to defend those.  Anyone who carries similar traits, I end up not liking him/her. I question my stand and doubt the rationale of my arguments on after-thoughts and as I mirror myself more and more objectively, I don't really like the way and the person I am. I believe that's the road to transformation. 

Panjim in the heat and love

Goa made me look at life the way it is. Simple but all bare. Every call from home scares me that it would carry a sad news. An awful truth is people value their pride more than relationships and I'm probably one of them, although sometimes I consciously make an effort to act mature and responsibly.  There were a few things that I did when I was in Goa and interestingly, I enjoyed doing all of them. They are:

The travels in and around Goa were hectic,but immensely satisfying. Every night when I fell off to sleep, I was happy of the new things that I saw and experienced throughout the day. I travelled, I ate good food, I explored places, I met new people, I spoke my mind, I wrote extensively and I delved deeper into myself. 

There was more to it than sunset

And there are more. I jumped onto my feet on the streets in happiness; I demonstrated how to start flying with your arms horizontally spread out on both sides and there you go up, up, and away; I wore whatever I wished to without pondering if others would stare at me; I changed into a bermuda and T-shirt in a car  in full daylight with DJ guarding me at the front and Hari on the side (I was pretty careless about who was watching me from behind); throughout the travels, I didn't give a hoot to anyone who stared or ogled at me or what he thought (may be he thought I was beautiful, at least I concluded so); I drank my favourite Jamaican Breezer while I strolled at Dona Paula; I bathed alone in the sea for the first time (the previous times my father was with me) and enjoyed very much indeed; I sang songs that had no rhythm while I walked on the streets of Panjim; and eventually those five days I unknowingly became the person I wished I could have been.  

I am a person who normally doesn't choose to hobnob with people except close friends or family. I am not a great talker and lack the magical faculty to make people  my own. For such a person who always retreats to her favourite self, Goa was a respite from all the repressions. Goa is a reification of a philosophy that instructs how to live life the way you wish to. There's no one to judge you and there's absolutely no pretension of being what you are not. 

Goa is my God.