Monday, August 17, 2009

What I did in Goa*

1. Got tanned. No, not voluntarily. I never tan voluntarily and frankly, I completely fail to understand this new fascination for us pre-browned Injun types to get even browner. I don’t like being browner, hell it’s taken me a long time to get comfortable with being the colour I am. You can go blame it on the little Kashmiri girl I was friends with when I was five. Her name was Payal and she had light eyes and porcelain skin and when in she came in from the sun, her cheeks and nose would be this adorable bright pink that mine never, *ever* turned. Oh how I longed to have cheeks that turned pink! And then because I hated raw tomatoes and my mum is evil, she told me that if I ate one ripe, red tomato everyday for the next I-don’t-remember-how-many years, I’d have rosy cheeks too. Guess who has yet another grudge to hold against their mommies? Meeeeee!!

2. Bumped into friend from PG who is now officially out of the closet. Way to go G! On an aside, gay men are the best huggers. No seriously, there’s none of that awkward arms and legs and bumping-heads confusion. G just grabbed me in a big bear hug and did not let go until I did. Which was nice because I’m one of those horribly clumsy huggers who are so self-conscious about a) displays of affection and b) any sort of physical contact that is not make-out-related that I’m always worrying about how close, how long and get-out-of-the-way-damned-boobs. Yes I know. Shut up.

3. Was air-kissed by cute French guy and discovered that I’m a sucker for old-world chivalry. Not the pulling-chairs-out, the being paid-for or the hold-open-doors-for-me variety (though I think the last is rather sweet), but show me a guy who leans in to air-kiss you, thus giving you a whiff of sexy cologne and brushing a stubbly cheek against your soft one and I’ll show you a girl who’s fast melting into a puddle of mush. Oh and offer me your arm, or gently switch sides with me so that I’m away from the traffic and I will be your slave. Not sexually, but you know, I can get you coffee and stuff.

4. Consumed more than half of Goa's piscine population. I’m almost convinced I have fully developed gills behind my ears. And I’m sorry fishies, but it was you or my taste buds; I picked my taste buds. And shark xacuti? Mmmmmm!

5. Walked along the beach and watched the raindrops stipple the sand around me. Hypnotic, almost.

6. Had the wind in my hair and the sun in my shades as we rode through miles and miles of chlorophyll-sheltered lanes. Chlorophyll makes me haappyyyy!


Next up, What I did in Bangkok. (And no, S, not who, what. Smartypants)

*Goa is now officially the place where I bump into ghosts from my past. Last year it was A, the guitarist ex who I spotted at Thivim station. And then because I’m the queen of awkward and socially inept, I hid behind a pillar. I’m not proud of it, but not terribly ashamed either. Hey, some us are introverts okay?

5 comments:

FifthBeatle said...

Nice post. I like the way it's written.

How come you spared the porcine population while you were at it?

And French men are capable of facial hair growth? Wow! That's news to me!

??! said...

CS:
This is not a comment. This is just an acknowledgement that some of us still read this blog - however infrequently you may post.

Arnold:
Dude, two words - French beard.

FifthBeatle said...

@??1:
A term that is almost completely Indian in its origin and use?

Chronicus Skepticus said...

Arnold: Hello! You're new here.

And we didn't really spare them, just went relatively easier on them. And hey, when by the sea, eat seafood!

??!: Kim, If I haven't already told you this, you're a sweetie. Really.

And gentlemen, it was NOT a French beard; it was a beard (or more of an overgrown stubble actually)on a Frenchman. And it (or do I mean he?) was most adorable. *sigh*

??! said...

Arnold:
Agreed. But it would indicate that there is a general acceptance that French men have beards. Which they do. Very prissy ones, admittedly, but they do.

Ok this is too pedantic a discussion.

CS:
Maska kami maaro, post zyaada karo.