By Koumudi C.
This piece was written a few years back. It was a submission for a book about people in Goa. It tells you a little about Goa and bit about Georgie, through his eyes.
On a Monday afternoon, Georgie Thomas sits in a shack at Miramar Beach with a mug of chilled beer.
“You see, most of our friends in other parts of the country are sitting today in a dull office painted by Monday blues” he says. “But here we are, sipping on beer with this majestic view of the ocean in front of us. Can you think of anything better than this?”
When asked to introduce himself, Georgie straightens up and says:
“Imagine, an intelligent and funny boy with a winning attitude. He wants to make it really big someday. One day, the right opportunity comes along, offering him a dream job, far from home. So he packs his bag immediately and leaves to pursue his dreams.”
Georgie pauses to sip on the mug.
“All of what I just said is not entirely true, but if you are writing a story, please do introduce me like this,” he smirks.
Truth be told, the protagonist of this story is not too different from the introduction except that his winning attitude is only reserved for scoring some extra hours on his favourite couch, doing absolutely nothing. In fact, making it the proverbial ‘big’ was never on his agenda, he confesses. At a time when young adults rush to immerse themselves in a rat race, eager to earn money, to buy a car, own a house etc., our lazy and peace-loving protagonist left his home in Kolkata, to start afresh in Goa. However, it was a dream job indeed, egging this movement from Kolkata to Panaji. “My primary goal was to chill and enjoy life” he says. “What better way to begin my journey than to land in Goa?”
“Let me tell you from the start.” He refills his mug to accompany him in the conversation that follows.
Georgie’s story begins from a decade back, when he was in his third year of college. “I had casually started playing poker with a bunch of guys on an online portal that time. I was good at it because I quickly realized that winning needed some simple mathematical calculations and nothing else.” Soon enough, one of the guys he was playing poker with, offered him a job in one of the casinos of Panaji. “The offer was accompanied by a one-way ticket to Goa. I simply grabbed the ticket and landed here without a second thought. It was completely on impulse.”
Just like his quick decision to move to Goa, it took Georgie little time to settle down and belong. “I felt at home immediately. It was love at first sight with Goa.”
To explain this, he narrates a small incident which took place soon after he moved to Goa. “It was a Sunday and I wanted to have a nice brunch.” He came walking to a small restaurant near the accommodation he was given by the employer during his training period. The restaurant was hardly a busy one with only a few tables occupied by locals and tourists alike. “I came and sat down on one of the empty tables. There was light music being played on the jukebox. The roads were quiet as it is on a usual Sunday. The manager of the restaurant was seated on a table near the entrance and he was blankly staring outside, possibly admiring the view of the swaying coconut trees across the skyline. Despite the summer heat, the restaurant was uncannily tranquil inside. Suddenly, a man from one of the tourist groups walked up to the manager and started shouting at him. ‘WE HAD PLACED OUR ORDER HALF AN HOUR BACK AND WE STILL HAVE NOT GOT A SINGLE ITEM ON THE TABLE!’ The entire restaurant was brimming with his screams. He kept yelling and complaining to the manager at the top of his voice. The manager, however, was absolutely unnerved. He kept smiling at him throughout the monologue and simply waited for him to finish yelling. Once done, he replied with three golden words: Five more minutes. As the man went back to his table, the manager went back to enjoying the view of the road.”
“The relaxed demeanour of the manager completely blew my mind! It simply did not bother whether somebody was angry at him or not. He was just a man enjoying his Sunday!” And it was not just the manager; it was true for all Goans he had met by then. That day, there was an old man seated opposite to him in the restaurant with a glass of whiskey. “He was gently sipping on his glass after long intervals. There was a small bowl of peanuts beside the glass, which he was munching on occasionally. As soon as the level of liquid in the glass reduced, he would add some water onto it and fill it again.” And this, he says, would just go on in a cycle, with the old man enjoying a slow Sunday with himself. “I knew just then that that old man was how I pictured myself many years down the line,” he quips.
Needless to say, the laid back lifestyle of the Goans instantly won over Georgie. It reverberated with his philosophy of ‘chilling’ in life. “I find the pace of Goa to be very similar to that of my hometown, Kolkata. They both have a beautiful leisurely tempo. It gives you time to absorb, unwind and reflect. Hence, I connected with Goa easily.” One will rarely find a Goan in a hurry, he says. “In most other places in India, for example, there is no concept of ‘five more minutes’. Five more minutes and you will miss your train forever!” he laughs. But give a Goan five more minutes, and he will spend it by relishing the rice and prawn curry on his plate, lazing on the balcony with his dog, or simply sitting on the beach and watching the waves of the ocean crash on the shores. He was moved by the zeal of the Goans to enjoy simple pleasures.
“One of my earliest memories of Goa is that of an invitation at one of my senior colleague’s place. He lives alone, and had asked me to accompany him for dinner on one of our off days. “He has a beautiful house in Candolim. It is one of those old beach houses.” Georgie entered the dimly lit house that evening, to be greeted by a sweet smell emanating from the kitchen. “He said he was making pork sorpotel, which I was told is a Goan delicacy. As we waited for the food to be cooked, he took out a bottle of Feni and offered to make me one of his signature drinks. I agreed of course!” As they drowned themselves in various stories, Georgie says, they lost track of time, forgetting that there was a dish cooking on the gas in the kitchen. By the time they realised, the pork sorportel had almost become burnt. “I remember myself rushing to the kitchen and turning off the gas quickly. A glum look had immediately spread on my face. But my colleague was not flustered one bit. He looked at me and said - don’t worry son, we will make it again from scratch”. And he did, enjoying every bit of the cooking, drinking and sharing of stories along the way. It was as if the length of time did not matter – only the quality of the time spent did. “We had dinner at 12 am that night. But it was easily the best sorpotel I had in my life.”
“I hate the rush in big cities. People are always running to make as much money they can in the shortest possible time. The Goans are a clear departure from this.” Here, for instance, one will never find any shop open for business between 2 pm to 5 pm. “That’s because the Goans rank their afternoon siestas above making money, just like I do” he says. Even if you offer a million dollars, they will never compromise on their siestas. A good meal must always be followed by a deep snooze, he says. Perhaps that is why he calls Goa his ‘soul twin’.
“The natural beauty of Goa is a bonus,” says Georgie. A walk through the lanes of Old Goa, or a day trip to the nearby beach, cures a bad day like no other. “I love exploring the narrow lanes and by-lanes connecting the small villages.” The array of coconut trees, the white and yellow Portuguese style houses, the sight of kids playing on small football fields in each neighbourhood, to name a few, invariably cheers him up. “These are like a splash of colour on a gloomy day, just like graffiti on old brick walls that can be spotted across Goa.” He goes on to mention that a lot of Goa, including the casino he works for, thrives on tourists. “But it is the off seasons when Goa breathes her best.” The rainy season for instance, sees a slowdown. The beach activities are on halt, many shacks stay closed, and the flea markets remain shut until the dry season sets back in. “You should see the greenery around in the rains,” he says. “It is like Old Monk for the weary soul. It will recharge you in no time.”
It has been almost a decade since Georgie made Goa his home. Every day, he says, is still a new discovery, deepening his love for the place. “It is true that I came to Goa by chance. But I doubt I will ever leave!” he says with a smile.
As he steps out of the shack to bid goodbye and hits the main road, a bike zooms past in full speed.
“Must be a tourist,” he smirks.
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