Goa in ‘season’

Iam just back from yet another trip to Goa. And once again, I was wondering why one of the prettiest corners of the country has to put up with some of the strangest holidaymakers around.

To begin with, the three letters G-O-A could be substituted with S-E-X and no one will notice. Certainly not the young couples who indulge in PDA with such fierceness as though their lives depended on it. It is almost as if for those few days they play out characters from their kinkiest fantasies. Fish net stockings in the sweltering heat, baby frocks on size 42 bodies, hot pants over thunder thighs and mehndi and churas to go with it, micro shorts and itsy jumpsuit wearing chickitas zipping around in scooties, showing off their temporary tattoos. And finally, the spunky Delhi girls who walk into a shack and make it their own with a swag drenched in beer and smoked in hookah. Gosh, this is every Indian male’s wet dream come true!

At the airport itself you will pick up the chatter: “Let’s go to Baga yaar!” For the rest of the country, it is the poor man’s Ibiza. And that’s is where you are likely to meet the assorted set: The horny bhabhi who has worn a pair of shorts and spaghetti to please her ‘suniye-ji’; the men from the North, with a certain desperation to get laid like yesterday with their colleagues who are booked into the same hotel; the girls from Bandra who will tell you about about secret parties, hideaways, and chilled out food and live music places (‘the real scene, man’); and the groups from the East and The South, who have spent their LTA money on some ‘family’ fun that includes eating fish fry by the truckloads and shopping for ‘I Love My Wife’ t-shirts and leather jackets.

And oh, and there are the semi-residents. Those who have a seasonal homes in Goa, hang out with expats and know how to pronounce ‘Benaulim’ (the ‘M’ is silent, silly). They are likely to be in dreadlocks and hipster beards, hanging out at secret live music places, nodding hysterically to below average music belted out by visiting firangs. They can spend an entire evening discussing quinoa and kale salads, the virtues of tropical modernism, art retreats in France, a hot new Vipassana center, and make it sound oh-so sexy!

The ‘season’ is just opening up in Goa. Go with an ‘open mind’.

(Scribbler, scribe, traveller Chandrima Pal takes you through the sexuallandscape of today)

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