Solo Trips, Serial Killers and Goa

And just like that, once again we are under the power of Covid-19, the virus that has been screwing up our lives for the past couple of years. Can someone tell me why China has no cases of coronavirus? Or are people dropping dead but nobody is allowed to tell?

So here I am, once again spending most of my time indoors. Thankfully last year I finally went ahead and indulged in some home improvements, so at least my apartment is a nicer place to hang out in. The plan is to make some additional improvements but I no longer have faith in plans.

This morning I was going through some old pictures and came across a bunch from my solo trip to Goa in August 2015. On an impulse, I had booked myself an Airbnb in South Goa, not completely remote but still very serene. It’s a part of South Goa that has mostly 5 star hotels and I was most definitely not in one of them. Instead I had an entire apartment to myself. A fairly large, almost spooky place on a quiet residential street, surrounded by trees and about a 5 minute walk from the pristine beach. 

Landing into Goa late afternoon, by the time I reached my living quarters for the next few days, after an almost 2 hour scenic cab ride, the sun was starting to go down. I quickly changed into my shorts and rushed to make sure I wouldn’t have a single ‘beach-free’ day. The white sand and the golden sunset was a sight to behold. There were a few couples walking around and as always I ended up playing photographer at their request. 

The gold and ....

The silver of Goa

As it started to get dark, I began heading back to my apartment, took a quick shower and walked over to a little restaurant across the street. The plan was to drink a couple of beers, have a fish dinner and turn in early, after having had a long day. 

The restaurant turned out to be larger than it looked from the outside, was nicer than I expected with some al fresco seating. I picked a small table in the outside section for myself, the sea breeze feeling good on my face and ordered a chilled beer. Just a few minutes later, a man, probably in his mid 30s came and sat at the table in front of me. We nodded at each other and I began looking at the menu. 

“I recommend the calamari,” he said. 

I smiled, put the menu away and responded that I would take him up on his recommendation. 

“I quit my job a few minutes ago,” he said out of the blue. He put his hands behind his head and stretched out his back, like he was trying to relieve all the stress from his body. “Oh man it feels so good to say that. I almost can’t believe I finally quit!”

“Sounds like I should be saying congratulations,” I replied.

“You’re the first person I’ve said this to,” he laughed. 

Now I was even more intrigued, invited him to my table and offered to buy him a beer to celebrate his recent state of being unemployed. 

So apparently he had been working at one of the big hotels close by as a sous chef, absolutely hated the management and had been thinking about leaving for a while. After exchanging some unpleasant words with the Executive Chef, he just wrote out his resignation and walked out of the place.

“Sounds very dramatic,” I said.

He laughed, harder and longer than I would have expected. “It totally was!”

The laughter continued for a bit and he was wiping tears and nodding his head. I figured it was the relief, the finality of something he had been wanting to do for a while, but didn’t have the courage to, until now. 

After about an hour of discussing life, food (especially sea food), travel and being free spirits, he asked if I would be interested in getting out of the place we were at and visiting some of his favourite restaurants. Clearly, I didn’t need to be asked a second time. 

So instead of having dinner by myself and going to bed early, I now had a chef guide who was introducing me to places I would never know about. We went to 3 different restaurants, all charming, small, local hideouts, places that were big on taste and small on hype. The delicious tiger prawns, the king fish and even some lobster that I would never have tried if I hadn’t made a solo trip to Goa, run into someone who became a friend and took a leap of faith that this friend in actuality wasn’t a serial killer.

Photographs aren’t just about sceneries and people. They’re also reminders of stories that are behind them. Stories that make our lives a little more special and interesting. 

I’ve always believed that friendships can be lifelong or just for a day. That was the only time I met Rajat. Although we did exchange numbers and a few texts the next couple of days, neither one of us made any effort to meet again. Six years later, I can barely even remember what he looked like. I had almost forgotten about that evening until I came across the photos from the trip. 

This third viral wave has made me extremely restless. I want to be out there, adding more stories to my life, without having to worry about infectious diseases and social distancing. While I probably have a repository of stories to tell from my life, I am greedy for more. 

This is a poem I wrote that some of you may have seen already. It's about the serial killer that has been hovering around our lives the past couple of years and seems appropriate to end the piece with. 

Live in joy or live in fear

Omicron why did you come here?

The choice to stay at home

Should be made by us alone

Not by an annoying bug

Who disapproves when people hug

Twenty twenty two please set us free

Covid nineteen go climb a tree

The Girl with the Auburn Hair

Her hair looked like a brush hadn’t been through it in a while. But the auburn brown tresses fell perfectly against her soap washed face.  She looked like springtime, the dirty snow washed away with warmer temperatures, bringing with it snatches of grass and little yellow flowers. Yes it was spring sunshine that she reminded me of - the soft rays of the sun, gently falling on the ground, turning the browns to greens. 

If it was a movie, I would imagine her dancing in the fields, her skirt flowing with the breeze, a song on her lips with the sun shining not too brightly over her. She had a beautiful, wide mouth with full lips, that made her look like she was smiling even when she wasn’t. I’m not sure if it was just the way my mind worked or if she was really as beautiful as I had made her up to be. 

Sara sat in a corner of a large room full of people. Rarely did I see anyone around her in the two weeks that I had been working at the same office. Strangely, hers was the only name that I remembered when my manager had walked me through the room, introducing me to my new colleagues. So far there had been no reason for the two of us to have communicated. In fact I didn’t even know what she did but I hoped that I’d have an opportunity to collaborate with her sometime. 

One Wednesday I noticed a man, who I had never seen at the office, walk over to her cubicle. It obviously wasn’t her lunch date since it was 3 o clock in the afternoon. From the corner of my eye, I could see that they were not just having some casual conversation. A few minutes later, she took her purse and they both walked out of the room. 

Sara didn’t show up at work the rest of the week. I kept wondering who that man could have been. What was it that had obviously got her flustered and made her leave before the end of the work day? I wished I could ask someone but Sara and I had never exchanged a word, which meant that I really didn’t know her at all. I didn’t want to seem creepy and anyway it was none of my business.

Monday morning came by and her cubicle was still empty. Then at about 11 o clock, I walked by the reception area and saw the same man sitting there. He looked different for some reason. Smaller than what I remembered. I'm not sure what came over me but I went up to him.

“Is Sara doing okay?” I asked. “Haven’t seen her around.”

He seemed nervous as he looked up at me.

“I saw her leave with you last week, so just thought I’d ask.”

He stood up from the chair, almost as if he wanted to feel like we were on equal ground. 

“Yeah she’s doing fine,” he said, his words coming with short pauses. “She’ll be back in a couple of days.”

I had nothing else to say or ask. I knew nothing. I didn’t even know the person in subject. So I nodded and began walking away. 

He tried to get my attention, to find out who I was. But I pretended not to hear.

Just like he had said, Sara was back at work two days later. Her hair was tied up and she had glasses on. The reflection on her lenses prevented me from seeing the hazel in her eyes. We had both reached work earlier than usual and there was almost nobody around. I figured that it had to be now, so I walked over to her cubicle and said hi. 

She looked at me with a slight glimmer of recognition. I pointed towards my cubicle and said I was the new guy.

“We were introduced a couple of weeks ago” I said. 

“Yes I remember” she replied, but she quite obviously didn’t. 

“Hadn’t seen you around the past few days, so thought I’d ....”

Thought I’d what? 

“Anyway, you have yourself a nice day,” I said after an awkward pause, as I started to walk away. 

“Wait!” she said as she stood up. “It was you, wasn’t it? That asked my brother about me?”

Brother.

“He said that there was a man that was inquiring about me. He described you but I’m sorry ... I just made the connection.”

I told her that I was concerned. And I didn't know who to ask. 

“Yes, there was a crisis in the family,” she started to tell me hesitantly, but I stopped her there. I could see how awkward it was for her to open up to me, a stranger. 

“I need to get back to work,” I said. “Would you have lunch with me today?”

It was a gorgeous afternoon and as we were walking towards the corner sandwich place, I  noticed that the rays of the sun had turned her auburn brown hair into a shade of gold. 

The Meeting

This story is a sequel to the previous post 'The Stranger'. In case you haven't already, do read it first. 

It was a little after 4 am when Dinesh decided to get out of bed. Sleep had evaded him all night. He had tried to meditate but there was no rest for either mind or body. 

Sitting by the window, a large cup of tea in his hand, Dinesh knew that today was going to be a very difficult day. He hadn’t seen his son in about 26 years, had no idea what he looked like. The image he had in his mind was still of a 3 month old boy who he had left without saying goodbye to. That and the voice he had heard over the phone yesterday.

Dinesh was a year younger than his son was today when he got married to Naina. ‘Naina’ which literally means ‘eyes’. Would she be the one who would, along with him, see life in a way that nobody else around him did? Dinesh and Naina had just had a few formal meetings after the families had arranged their marriage. He wondered how he was letting himself commit to someone he barely knew anything about. Yes, she was pretty, educated, well mannered and belonged to a cultured family. Was that enough to get into a relationship that was meant to last a lifetime?

One time when they were out for lunch, he wanted to probe into her mind and ask her all these questions. 

‘If you could live your life without worrying about society or family, what would you be doing?’  ‘What is true freedom?’ 

‘What actions in our lives have the longest reaching consequences?’

‘What single event has had the biggest impact in your life?’ 

‘Have you ever thought about the meaning of life and how we can find it?’

’Do you ever stay up at night worrying about where humanity is headed?’

‘Why is there so much suffering in the world?’

There were so many questions he wanted to ask but didn’t. Instead they talked about movies, friends, college etc. Conversations that most people in their mid 20’s usually had. Superficial chit chat that did not delve into either mind. 

Turned out that while Naina checked all the boxes that an Indian man would look for in a wife, her way of looking at life was completely different than his. She was just like the other people he knew, wanting the same things, happy to be the stereotypical wife, daughter, daughter-in-law. He wished that he too was like them. It would make his life so much easier. 

Three months into the marriage when they found out that she was pregnant, all he felt was distress. He hadn’t been ready to be a husband and he was by no means ready to be a father. Everyone was celebrating the arrival of the new baby, but that strange feeling in his stomach would not leave him. His friends, who were still all single, joked about him being a father before his 26th birthday. 

His heart pounded every time someone said it. A father? How could he be responsible for another human being when he was still struggling for answers about his own life?

Nothing changed with the birth of Shiv. He thought that seeing the little one would bring in all these paternal feelings and he would become ‘normal’. As normal as wanting to go to work everyday, being a great dad, wanting nothing but the best for his son, being a good husband and genuinely loving his wife, being the son his parents expected him to be etc etc. Without pretending and without having to make an effort. But none of that happened. All he wanted was to run away from it all.

Which is exactly what he did. 

Tossing and turning, he got out of bed in the middle of one night, feeling like he was about to suffocate. Was he about to have a heart attack because it certainly felt like his heart would explode at any moment? Pouring himself some water, he was barely able to drink any. He began pacing up and down the bedroom, Naina and Shiv at her parents home, oblivious to what was going on. Dinesh waited for his heart to give way but instead tears began flowing down his eyes. Loudly sobbing, he continued to pace, feeling claustrophobic in a way that he had never thought was possible. 

Once the tears stopped, he sat down and just let himself breathe for a while. It felt like he hadn’t inhaled any oxygen in a really long time. It took about an hour for him to calm himself down. An hour when he did a lot of thinking. An hour after which he packed a small bag, took all the cash he had and left his home. He knew that financially his wife and son would be taken care of by both families and that was all that his young mind was ready to be concerned about.

Twenty six years had passed and today he was about to meet a young man who shared his genes. The restaurant they were to meet at, opened at 11 am and he was waiting outside when they did. After consuming endless cups of tea, at 12:50 pm he left and stood out on the street, turning himself invisible in the crowd. Exactly at 1 pm he saw Shiv enter the restaurant, looking nervous. He observed him for a few minutes and suddenly realized that the anxiety he had been experiencing all this time, was no longer there. 

Taking a deep breath, Dinesh walked into the restaurant.