Day
1: 23 July, 2015
As the Indigo 6E-something hovered over the Dabolim
airport in Goa shortly after noon, we all (twelve, at that time), looked ready
and raring to go. It was going to be the 30 year reunion of the SAS 1985 batch,
after all! The short flight from Mumbai was largely incident free, unless you
count the seven-minute long leak that Dr. Rajesh took even as the plane took
off. And that somehow, he managed to fit in his entire frame into that tiny
lavatory box. Amazing!
Down at the airport, everyone looked in the groove.
The glares were out, so were the glaring male knees and calves. Twelve middle
aged men with variously shaped and sized midriffs, out to take Goa by storm.
Outside, an AC tempo traveller was waiting to take us to our base camp at Baga.
An hour later, we were at our destination, the Acron Waterfront Resort. The
‘water in front’ turned out to be a steady stream ending at the rear of the
Baga beach just about 200 metres out on the right of the resort. The resort
itself looked neat and beautiful with independent apartments and an inviting
blue pool. The twelve of us paired off into six rooms. Yins and Yangstogether.
Or were they? Abhay chose me as his room partner (had he pre-decided that?). Anyway,
the double room was huge and had everything to host us in total comfort.
Equally big and pleasing was the bathroom, which always assumes great
importance whenever you check-in into a hotel.
Soon, ten of us filed out to walk to the nearby Baga
beach for having lunch. Vazir and Haresh wanted to have a small bite at the
resort first, before joining us. At St. Anthony’s (beach shack at Baga), we
ordered a huge pitcher beer (it’s called ‘tower’ we came to know soon), along
with an impartial spread of fleshy accompaniments. Soon, Vazir and Haresh
joined us, and the afternoon rolled on merrily. Towers came and went, as did
visiting faculties of eye candies. After many clicks, and a few hics, we were
back at the resort. Some hit the pool and some hit the bed.
Sometime later, Nitin, who came on a later flight,
joined us. After a round of drinks at the resort early in the evening, we were
on the dirt trail again. Our destination this time, Brittos.The karaoke night
was on full swing at the popular beach hub when we walked in. English and Hindi
retro songs played out loud, as people waited patiently for their turn on the
mike. Between ‘towers’ and other poison, Abhay and Haresh decided to entertain
all present with their crooning. They sang a few lovely old Hindi film numbers
to lusty cheers. A magical night was unfolding on the mellow sands under a
starry night. Not done for the night, some among our group decided to taste the
thrills of a midnight massage. As they proceeded towards the famous ‘Sukho
Thai’ spa, the rest of us trudged back merrily to the resort. We sat at the
waterfront table in the early morning hours, chatting some more. Before long,
the ‘massaged’ gentlemen were back too, glowing in the still, dark night. All
in all, a happy ending to the first day, as we hit the bed. Gilroy wouldn’t
agree though (!)
Day
2: 24 July, 2015
We woke up to near torrential rains this morning. As
I stepped out on to the attached sit-out to our room, I saw heavy rains beating
down on the well-manicured lawns, on the pool and everything around. It looked
downcast, but beautiful. It’s been like this since early morning, my roomie
Abhay informed me, sipping on a beer. He had already had his breakfast, as had
some others. I hurried to the restaurant for breakfast and joined the others.
We were to go meet an old school mate and one of our school teachers today.
But, would we step out in the heavy rains? Finally, it was decided that we
would leave by about one pm, and the bus was arranged.
We left on time for a place near Thivim, all except
Abhay, who wanted to stay back. About an hour later, and after some guided
searching, we approached William’s house, our old friend from school. Away from
the bustle of Goan streets, a solid ancient house loomed in the woods. It was
still raining as we jumped off the bus and ran into the safe confines of the
house. After some catching up on the old times with William, and group photo
sessions, we went on an exploration of his huge house. And what a glorious
expedition it turned out to be. The living room was a treasure house, replete
with beautifully chiseled old ornamented furniture, ancient precious wall
hangings, a collection of weapons possessed by the ancestors (guns and knives),
and last, but not the least, some of William’s paintings, done by his own
artistic hand. And so it went on, each of the never-ending rooms revealing some
of the astonishing glories lost in today’s uber modern world. It was truly a
cherished heritage trip all in a matter of twenty minutes.
Next, we reached our history teacher, Ms. Prescila’s
home in uptown Goa. She welcomed us all with open arms, literally, and even
recognised some of us. After seeking her blessings and a heartwarming photo
session, we set off for lunch. Mohit had arranged for us a place famous for
serving tasty local fares. It continued to rain even as we reached this simple,
nondescript restaurant. Over chilled beers, we savoured some delicious and
authentic Goan rice and fish curry. As we ate, Naresh arrived in our midst, who
had flown in from Bangalore for two days. We had arranged for him to meet us
straight for lunch on his way from the airport. His arrival only added to the
wonderful time we were all having together.
We were back at the resort by early evening and most
of us decided to rest for a while. Abhay was nowhere to be seen and his phone
was switched off too. I dozed off for a while. At about eight that evening,
thirteen of us gathered on one of the sit-outs for a session to listen to
everyone’s journey after SAS. It was a moment we all had eagerly looked forward
to. Scotch and beers were laid out to gently flame the memories, as each one of
us went back in time to resurrect the past thirty years. It was exhilarating to
hear about the travails of each one of us, amazing stories that can’t be
justifiably documented here. Suffice it to say that it was evident that
everyone had had a struggle of his own, a demon or two to fight, social /
economic or even with self; ultimately overcoming the challenges to taste
success, and more importantly, happiness. However, a special mention must be
made of the scary gun-laden tales of Naresh from his engineering days in Bihar,
which shocked us all and became the story of the evening!
Then came the highlight of the evening, if not of
the entire 30-year reunion. Mohit had lovingly, and thoughtfully, prepared
neatly framed personalised certificates for all of us in attendance, a
priceless memento to commemorate the special occasion; which he personally
handed over to us one by one. An emotional moment for us upon receiving such a
prized possession!
Sometime during the session, Abhay also returned,
much to our relief. He had spent most of the day exploring the hospitality of
the north Goan beaches, enjoying a couple of massages on the way, as he informed
us. Meanwhile, a late night casino escapade had been arranged, as was the bus
for taking us to the shores of the Mandoviriver. At nearly midnight, we reached
the jetty and took the ferry for going to ‘Pride 2’, the floating casino on the
river. The ship was brightly lit and looked imposing even from far. Soon we
were inside the casino and we headed straight for the dinner hall. We selected
our choices from the available buffet spread and sat down to eat. A few dancing
girls gyrated to some Bollywood numbers in the background, which nobody paid
attention to. Having filled our hungry tummies well, we proceeded to the upper
level where the games were on. The room was filled with tables manned by young
males and females, mostly from north east India (or maybe from the casino dens
of Kathmandu). People jostled to try their luck everywhere. Drinks were being
served to those who cared for one. Our group had spread out and most were
trying their hand out on some table. I tried out roulette and lost my chips early.
Denzil had won a few, I and Vazir then played a few rounds on his chips. After
losing a couple, we finally won back the chips, which Denzil promptly proceeded
to encash. On a nearby table, Ronnie and a few others also won some, which they
too encashed. Abhay had done his bit on the slot machines. Not before long, we
had had enough of the place and filed out to return to the resort. The ‘house’
might have won, but it didn’t exactly win us over! Back at the resort, we said
our goodnights and headed for our respective rooms in the early morning
hours.
Day
3: 25 July, 2015
This is the day we had decided to chill at the
resort. Accordingly, a late, lazy breakfast was in order. No running against
time, no client reminders, no deadlines to meet. A moment of happy aberration
in the ceaseless recesses of time. After the thoroughly enjoyable laidback
morning bite, most of us decided to hit the pool. Nitin and Abhay opted to take
a walk to the Baga beach. We ordered some rum and beer by the pool and dipped
ourselves in the liquids, both in and out. It was a refreshing experience, as
if time purposely stood still, while we soaked in the leisure in utmost bliss.
Golden moments stolen in the water world of Eden, or so it seemed. Sometime
later, Denzil’s nephew from Goa, Saby arrived with a bottle of Uraak, a popular
Goan concoction. Moreover, he told us where we should hang out on that Saturday
night – a happening pub called Cohiba. He assured us it would be absolutely
worth our time.
Later that afternoon, we decided to have lunch on
the Baga-Calangute beach stretch. After some searching for a suitable place to
eat, we settled for St. Anthony’s once again, more due to lack of choices.
Nitin and Abhay also joined us here. Yet
again, the ‘towers’ arrived on our table, as did the beers, accompanied by fish
and prawns and meat of all kinds. Food, froth and friends intertwined to create
a magical afternoon by the breezy seaside, and left us asking for more. It was
well past five pm when we returned to the resort. A short nap was in order to
recharge us for the impending night out at Cohiba.
At eight pm sharp, everyone gathered near the resort
main gate, each wearing his best party attire, specially brought for this
nightlife adventure. An air of sweet anticipation hung in the air (anticipation
for what?). All fourteen of us were in attendance, though Nitin would be
getting off midway, as he was flying back later that night. We proceeded
towards Cohiba by the hired bus for a blast on our last night in Goa. After
dropping off Nitin on the way, we reached our destination in about an hour. At
the pub, an eerie silence and empty tables greeted us, as we took the huge centre
table duly reserved by Saby. A band played retro music to an empty floor. I
wondered if this was going to be a quiet, candlelight kind of dinner for us
that night, all by ourselves. Nevertheless, we ordered our drinks, and the
Scotch and beers arrived, along with the usual fleshy starters.
As the night wore on, the party animals arrived.
First in a trickle, then they swamped in like nocturnal moths, as if attracted
by the shining Cohiban lights. Before we knew it, the whole place was swarming
with the most happening ‘crowd’. Young couples, ‘only girls’ groups, families,
even stags, they were everywhere, having taken siege of the fort Cohiba. The dance floor now brimmed with guys and girls with
hardly any space left to move about. The band was rocking, and cheered on by
the crowd, kept belting out one retro hit after another. The charged up
atmosphere soared our spirits too. Most of us took to the dance floor to shake
a leg or two. Denzil, Gilroy, Paul and Mohit looked to be at their dancing
best. Haresh, myself and Naresh danced intermittently. Vazir decided not to
shake anything other than mojito (or whatever he was having). Rajesh mostly sat
glued to his seat, feasting with his eyes, as he gulped on his Scotch. A few of
Mohit’s friends from Goa arrived and joined us. A big, fat Havana cigar
appeared in our midst, and we coughed up a bit more than just money. The night
was just getting better and better.
Suddenly, Gilroy was on top of our table with his
dancing shoes on, literally bending over backwards to please the crowd. Some of
the girls loved this ‘standup act’ and showed their appreciation by clapping
and whistling wildly. By now, most of us had finished our drinks and getting
ready to leave. But Gilroy wasn’t done yet! He was all over the shop, asking
ladies to have a dance with him. And they seemed in the mood to oblige, as
Gilroy happily jived with a couple of them, enjoying the close encounters of
the ‘T’ kind! It all ended abruptly though, as we were hurriedly waved on
towards our bus by some (I honestly don’t remember who). We were to visit yet
another club where Russian girls showed their dancing skills and some more.
This bus ride will always remain etched in our
memories, as Gilroy vented his ire on a chosen few, whom he blamed for snatching
his moments of glory by leaving suddenly. The speech he gave, well punctuated
by the choicest ‘gaalis’, made it a diatribe worth experiencing. It was all in
good humour though and made for continuous laughs during that ride. In any
case, our last escapade turned out to be a damp squib, and we returned to our
bus. By now, we were very hungry and stopped at a small roadside eatery (the
only one open) to gorge on egg rolls. At that place and at that hour, they
seemed heavenly. It was nearly four in the morning when we returned to the
resort. We retired to our rooms quickly, but not before saying goodbye to
Ronnie, who was taking the early morning flight back home.
Day
4: 26 July, 2015
What does one say about the day it all comes to an
end? The last few hours of a glorious 30-year reunion? Most of us got up late
and ate what was our last breakfast at the resort. Some decided to take a swim
in the pool. A few stayed indoors doing last minute packing. Denzil paid a
quick visit to Calangute for some work. I and Abhay went out shopping for some
liquor and cashew nuts. Soon, it was time for Mohit to leave (he was to catch
an earlier flight than us). Naresh left with him too to catch his Bangalore
flight. That left about ten of us there, scheduled to leave at about two pm.
Haresh decided to take headshots of each one of us on his SLR. We whiled away
the remaining time aimlessly, in no particular way.
After saying our goodbyes to the resort staff, and a
couple of clicks with the beautiful ladies at the reception, we were finally on
our way to the airport in the afternoon. Everyone was sad to leave and hardly
anyone spoke on the hour long bus ride. The airport counters were crowded with
passengers and it took a while to check-in ourselves and our baggage. Our
flight was a bit delayed too, but nobody really cared. A short flight later,
the skyline of Mumbai loomed below us, signaling the end of our cherished
reunion. The pilot landed the plane on the Santacruz tarmac smoothly, in spite
of the heavy hearts it carried. We were home. It was time to say goodbye to
everyone.
This
blog would remain incomplete without saying a heartfelt ‘Thank You’ to Mohit, but
for whose tireless organisingendeavour, this Goa reunion would never have seen
the light of day. And also to Denzil, who, for months on end, kept the spirits
soaring high, and made everyone look forward to the trip eagerly. And, last but
not the least, to all the friends who were on this unforgettable sojourn… thank
you for making it happen!
Till
another time…
