Every time I think of Goa, the tourism ad that featured in the 90s plays in my mind. It’s a catchy tune ‘Go Goa! I’m crazy about you!’. Check it out here.
The very first time I’d been to Goa was in 2008. According to my friends, that was weird for two reasons:
1. Who goes to Goa for the first time when they’re 18?
2. Who goes to Goa with their family?
Nonetheless, it was a fabulous trip. A trip I’d never forget – seafood lunches, beautiful sunset walks with my parents, beer with my dad and just chilling in the pool with my brother.
Dad and I in Goa
For the past few years, I’ve been going to Goa once a year. Not planned, it just happens and I’m glad it does.
This year, during my Goa trip, while I was sitting at Britto’s (all you ‘south Goa is the best’ snobs, yes, I like Britto’s), I looked around and just observed people.
A woman awkward in a strappy dress, seemed like it was her first time out of her salwar kameez. Her husband wearing his floral shorts, holding her hand and asking her to share his beer.
A bunch of overexcited girls, trying out cigarettes in between taking pouty selfies.
A guy with his friends, trying out food that he technically shouldn’t be eating.
A young couple overwhelmed with being able to show their affection for each other, without a care in the world.
Then it struck me, beyond the land of beautiful beaches, rich culture, great food, and cheap alcohol, Goa is also probably the only place in India that really lets you live.
For many of us – including me – who live freely in their respective cities (as a woman, I’d say ALMOST) – this may not be a big deal.
We’d probably judge all of the above people. But this is might just be one of those times for them when they can be whoever they want to be.
I sat there eating my favourite seafood and not-so-favourite beer, thinking about how precious this state is.