Finally my urge to go on a real break started getting better of me. All me and Shishir did under pretext of taking a break from work was nothing but finding a place which served booze and drink. When we were not drinking together we used to find each other and drink again together to discuss how previous drinking session went. It grew so much in frequency I came to know I even needed a break from these breaks. Another weekend was in sight and I dreaded a night and a day of serial drinking. I barged in in boss’ cabin and declare that I am going to my native place. Either it was my pathetic mood or eerie resolve, he nodded. I love you dude!
After I left office and before I reached home, I had to drink two beers to partly compensate for my absence over weekend. Resolve of drinking just a beer quickly and winding up dissolved at the end of 1st beer and one beer lead to another. Each beer brought memory of a long lost love. I hate beer for this reason only. Otherwise it’s a great drink. I need to practice drinking without triggering my memory points.
As feared I missed my first train early morning, barely managed to get into the second at Dadar with a ticket for Kudal in hand. Ticket was unreserved and general bogey would barely allow me to stand, was what I told. I was ready for a king of the road ride sitting at the bogey door. But to my amazement I got a window seat. Sometimes lady luck surprises you.
What I love about Konkan Railway is the stations. They are quiet; few people get off and walk out of platforms into dense woods. I won’t be surprised if a few leopards welcome me when I alight at Rajapur Station next time. And Rajapur is a Capital city of a district.
I was super excited when I started seeing names such as Vaibhavwadi, Kankavali and Oros. When Oros came I couldn’t stop the urge of calling one of my friends and tell her that I was in her native place and thinking of visiting her family. That freaked her out. My reputation needs a mend.
After Oros came Kudal, my destination. I got off and took an auto to ST bus stand. Now this is a phenomenon. The convenience of the Konkan railway for an individual is decided based upon how far or near the bus stand is from the railway station. Thankfully, Kudal bus stop was just a Rs 10 per head ride away from railway station. There I took a bus for Malwan. Invariably and inevitably one thing happened. And elderly lady sitting next to me puked and puked and puked. Finally I changed my place. Thankfully no one there puked.
Malwan instantly brought fond memories. I took an auto to reach my hosts place in the village Revandi. Memories started flooding. There used to be a small eatery called Saaiba on the outskirts of Malwan city. It has turned into a resort and garden restaurant and all. Finally I reached home. After a gap of sixteen long years. I took bath, changed into fresh clothes and slept.
Day I
Malwan used to a be long ride then in ST and on foot. My host has got a new Honda Aviator. So it just took us ten minutes to reach there. Ride is beautiful through the swirling roads in dense groves and when to take a sharp turn and come out of woods, open sea flanks on your right. Wow!
Malwan market is full of shops selling bhajjis, tea and people speaking in Malwani, the local dialect. Fish market is as expensive as Mumbai and if you are lucky you may see a baby shark kept on counter for sale, still alive. If you are unlucky he will bite off your fins-inspecting fingers. Difference between big sharks and baby sharks is later didn’t make it to Jaws, Jaws II, Jaws III and Jaws forever.
The miracle called island fort of Sindhudurga stands firm in the Arabian Sea. Which I plan to visit later. Today I just pick of crabs and prawns and head back home before devouring a plate of hot bhajjis with chai. Some things just don’t change.
When I came back I went to library. During my last visit I had read more books in a month than all the other members put together had read. i recognized librarian, she hadn’t changed a lot in 16 yrs except that her hair had grown even longer now reaching almost her knees. When I told her I had come in 1993 and could recognize her, she was flattered and blushed. she allowed me to read newspapers and magazines for free.;-)
In the evening I went to visit my host’s cousin who was away trying to catch some fish in the backwaters behind his house. Backwaters is the nice beautiful creek with clean and silvery water and golden sand on the shore. From there I rode out of Revandi and went to Sarjekot. Kot, pronounced exactly as coat, is a mini fort built to protect main fort, in this case main fort being Sindhudurga. I parked my bike on the harbor, hopped towards the Kot and came face to face with two girls sitting just outside their backyard watching the sunset. Once of them wore her symbol of marriage so I quickly ignored her and turned my attention on another, who was cute and fair and lovely. I asked directions for fort, but the my lady told me it would dark and there is nothing to see inside. She even said smugly that she hadn’t yet seen the fort yet, although it shared its fortifications with her house. However she asked me to visit the cliff, it would offer a nice view of sea, she said. I stretched conversation asking if it wouldn’t be dark over there. She mocked at my logic and said it would be still sunnier there as it is the top of the cliff. She spoke in fluent Malwani, my attempts of arguing with her backfired. Her words were like shower of arrows, tips of which were dipped in sarcasm and wit. I was lame and tranquilized. I thought I could sit there talking to her until boats in the harbor left for fishing and till they came back next morning. I could have surely taken a few more arrow-shots. But I had miles to go!
I drove in the directions given by my mermaid. I drove up a hill and came on a plateau. I there it was, the most beautiful landscape I had even seen. I was on a edge of plateau and right 100 ft below was sea. It was dusk and scary. I stood there for some time taking the fresh sea breeze air and getting hypnotized. It was incredible. There wasn’t a single person. A vast beach, but only 100 ft above the mean sea level. Amazing!
Day II
We visited Malwan again and came back. During my last visit I used to mingle with two sets of folks. One was children of my age with whom I played cricket every evening. Second set comprised of oldies who came to talk to my hosts. When I visited a few houses today, I came to know those oldies now only existed in the form of framed pictures in the wall. I am pretty sad.
I cannot remember a single face or name of my cricket buddy, strangely. Only one boy I could remember was one who had a minor polio limp in his right leg. When I dropped an enquiry I was told he was Samir and works in gram panchayat. I visited him there, gave my introduction but he couldn’t remember a damn thing. I came back. I was almost into tears, mainly because of my brains preference order of memorizing faces.
Evening was fun. I went to jetty on the creek from where small boats and small steamers leave for Talashil. Talashil is an island village across the creek beyond which its Arabian Sea. Creeks back in Bombay are nothing but big gutters and a perennial source of foul stench. This one had clear water and I could see lovely fish swimming in it. They were so lovely that if they weren’t small, I would have gathered them in a net and fried them.
I sat for some time on jetty before a thought came in my mind. I cracked a deal with a steamer guy and crossed the creek and reached Talashil. When I landed, I jumped off the steamer and rushed across the land. After 100 meters walk, I was again on a beach, facing the great sea. Beach had lovely yellow sand. It was vast and stranded, like the ones you see in tourism adverts. It was tranquility redefined. Sand was soft like silk. i sat there for some time gazing the waves and headed back. Steamer was waiting for me. I was marginally happier than Columbus was when he had discovered land of America.
I came home and started writing. This is what I wrote now. You have just read it. I cannot write what I will be doing tomorrow simply because I haven’t done it yet. I plan to visit Sindhudurga Fort and Tarkarli, buy souvenirs, drink beer and if any cash is left, do scuba diving.
Day III
Sindhudurga Fort is in ruins, comprises of a few temples and houses. It was difficult to tour it in glazing hot sun. A free guide gives a good dope of trivia about the fort and the attached history.
It was Sunday and all shops were closed. There are more Scuba diving and snorkeling offering shops than the fish in the Malwan sea. I chucked the idea for the beer and headed into the market, but all shops were closed. Sunday afternoon was wasted.
A really great thing about Malwan is it has a souvenir shop that sells Shirts and Mugs. Very much Yankee concept but smartly converted. Shop’s name is Killa, worth paying a visit.
Day IIII
I am coming back by afternoon bus and I am sad. I don’t know when I will be back. No one is talking to anybody. Finally I touched everybody’s feet and promised I will come back soon. All good thing come to an end, and sooner that you’d expect. I bid goodbye to the jeweled backwaters, coconut trees and deities in the temple. I hope I will return back here soon.
