Goa with Her

There are moments when words became mere obligation and silence deserves greetings like merry Christmas. There are sounds which can only felt which can be listened in a world of different moods. There are scenes which can only be seen when you see them from the very roots and with an aroma of soil.

Well this introduces my desire for something which I would share with you. Maybe it has been shared earlier maybe we both felt it in a different way but still there are strings which are unexposed ,threads which needed to be unfolded.
Thus I would begin my experiences.

An experience about a woman.

But where should I begin?

Well maybe..the point where I saw her steps dancing on the floor of Paradise river cruise and ‘Mauja hi Mauja’ was in the air.. the point where her flowing green long-skirt sways over the Mandavi river in winds..the point where her silky features creating likings of unforgettable pleasures.. the point when she looked at me and the last ray of the evening sun with all its glow sheltered in her eyes..the point when she jumped up in joy seeing the adjacent Goa Marriot in lights..the point when we both danced in springing steps over the cruise..the vocalness with which she brought cashew from Panjim..the night at the poolside when we just relaxed in the lush lawn beside the pool and smooth canopy lights..the night when she dressed like an angel and we tasted wine for the first time..
She was a poem of reality always opening before me mysteries which as if she herself was unconscious of..

I found her again in totally different colour in Calangute beach.

She was just maddening in the thatched hat short skinny tops and capris on the beach..the appeal with which she sat on the umbrella shade with stretched legs..her hair getting dispersed in air much to my delight..her wet legs when she dipped in the sea and that too in a mood of utter sexyness..the hugging of her arms through the grains of silky sands floating in the air.. the calmness with which she shopped cutting bargains..her slow walk through the pleasant evenings and foreign tourists in Goa..she made her way along the busy Calangute market with such ease comfort and personality a sign of a confident woman..



And the pictures of beautiful Goa grow along with her.

The local cab driver Sanjay a handsome hearty fellow who spoke everything from wife to family,the fishermen who are always eager to help the tourists from any trouble, the young guy who lended umbrellas for sun-bath, the local poor boy who sells plastic parachutes for children through the night at the beach, the always helping shopowners,the local Christian holding roadside cheap stalls where egg bread and fresh breakfast are available,the historic Portugese Fort Aquada, the fantastic Taj Aquada beach, the coconut-seller of the DonaPauala beach, the arch like road of Panjim on the banks of the estuary of Mandavi river,the beautiful sea bath of Calangute, the bikini-beauties of the beach, the swarms of Foreign tourists helping Goa to earn foreign revenue,the beautiful temple of Mangeshwari,the oldest churches of Goa,the extremely beautifully constructed colonized villagetype roads of Goa, the markets of Calangute..all offering the lusture of visiting Goa again and again.


But I would write here about one very special night .

It was the best of the night we spend in Goa.
She was dressed in a off-shoulder alter-neck long frock and really from that moment the evening start appearing purple..the colour of the frock. She was looking like a goddesses and her beauty was spreading in shades of senses. Her hair looking like a fantasy organized as well as offering a spirit of sublime treasure, her eyes holding the depth of the green sea, her lips appearing wet as if all the moonlight has decorted there with their best shine, her neck as if a bend of eternity,her figure..a poem in which lyics are in full swing and rythms spreading the tale of many unknown mysteries ..
We had the best dinner on the beach..lamps glowing in temporary bamboo posts..cushions kept on sand..scent of wine roaming in air..winds in strings blowing..people passing by..sky deep blue..the sea-water inviting us..the sea-gulls flying..the resorts and the hotels behind us glowing like garlands..

We came back to resort and sat in the wonderful big verandah from which sea is totally in proximity.Below the resort was the hubbing Calngute market which now quite silent, though still tourists coming in numbers,couples coming in bikes with bottles of wine and whiskey and running towards beach,young guys just for chill out may be after a hectic day-out coming for fun,tourists slowly getting scattered over the beach,the winds blowing with speed, December cold now slowly grasping Goa by night,moonlight pierced by fragmented clouds softly touching the beach,far across the sea the colour of the sky and sea is almost same but still the sea a bit more deep and the line of separation..the horizon can be seen as the ships in numbers with their lights floating in line just like a uncherished dream,

She came close to me.
I touched her hand.
Again a poem was born.
The lyrics are open now.
The tune of continuation depended on me now.
Far across, the light of the lighthouse signaling over the sea to guide the wandering ships..and also perhaps to bring two souls closer..much closer..
I hugged her.
No more spaces between the distances.
The winds inaugurated the moment.
The light of the lighthouse again focused.
A bunch of seagulls went in a flight.
Some locals burst out in raw jokes over the beach.
The sea looks nearer may be tide is coming.
The moon flashed.
Again winds touched us.
And at that moment I kissed her.
A deep kiss to my woman, whom I love!


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