Lost in Paradise

Lost in Paradise

This is one of the most interesting journeys I’ve ever made. The time was around mid winter 2006. It was my final year of graduation in Hotel Management from I.H.M. Goa. Having lived in one of the most beautiful parts of the country where people from around the world crave to holiday in, our entire duration of graduation seemed no less than a very long Holiday (except for the two weeks of exam per semester). However as the time for bidding farewell to this paradise was getting closer I somehow felt guilty of not doing justice to the so called holiday, I thought I did not explore the state at all. So I thought of having some Fun. I don’t booze neither do I smoke nor do I club so "What on earth could Goa offer a person like me ?" would have been a very apt question. The answer is lots, one just has to start looking out and Goa has something for everyone. I was very fond of historical places and I loved to explore the unexplored so I decided to visit Fort Terekhol, a small fort let along the Goa-Maharashtra border.

 Cyrus Thomas (Name Changed for obvious reasons), an outcast from our college, people found staring at a log of wood for days more interesting than being in his company. One day he asks me “Aabeer why don’t we go around, explore places some day, I don’t have any friends here, and hence I haven’t seen any place here since the last two years.” Well, I needed someone to share the expenses. I personally found nothing wrong with Cyrus, I always wondered “why are all my friends so terrified of Cyrus?” besides being an emotional fool, I tend to sympathise with such outcasts very easily, so we decided to explore Terekhol together. That day besides discovering the unexplored pristine locations of the hinterland I was also to discover why people were terrified of Cyrus.

We decided to rent a bike, against the license of my then roomie (who’s name I won’t mention). Cyrus had a driving licence but did not know how to ride a bike; I knew how to ride but did not possess a license. Anyway before setting off Cyrus delivered his first shocker --- “I will drive today.... I wanna learn how to drive a scooter!!” “You fool!” I thought, how can someone wanna learn how to drive anything on one of the most accident prone National Highways (NH – 17) of the country? He then said “I have also paid for it, we will drive it 50-50”. I paused for a second and then I asked him to try riding the bike on a colony road, He was terrible! He almost collided with the wall of his own house; we had a heated argument, after which he tried to sound sarcastic when he said “Ok, fine I understand that your life is more important than me learning something new. You drive”.

We drove up north till Pernem along the NH-17 and then turned west towards Fort Terekhol. The road runs almost parallel to the river Terekhol, which acts as a natural border between the states of Maharashtra and Goa. Fort Terekhol is the only ‘Goan’ Territory north of the river near its mouth. This entire road was much more surprising than I expected. The landscape around consisted of greens, barren lands, mountains, coastline all within a span of minutes. One of the most memorable experiences was that on a hot and sunny afternoon, we saw a densely forested mountain from a distance; but as soon as the road transformed into a ‘ghat’ and started cuddling the hill like an anaconda the temperature drastically dropped within seconds by at least an approximate 15 degrees, we could literally feel the chill. Soon we reached Querim, a little hamlet on the southern bank of the river near its mouth. We then embarked upon a ferry along with our bike (and ourselves) on a ferry (reminding us of Dil Chahta Hai) to the opposite bank of Terekhol, from where the fort was just a 5 minute drive. We finally reached the fort located on a hill top which is now converted into an upmarket hotel, Terekhol Fort Heritage and also has a tiny Chapel within the premises, the view from the fort is mind blasting. You get to see the serene Querim beach, the river, forests, countryside all from the same place. Being low on cash then we decided to return to a more reasonable place for lunch.

On the path of getting lost

While returning we found to our shock that the ferry service was closed due to low tide! We had two options, either we wait for hours for the service to restart, or we venture hinterland to find new routes. We choose the second, bad decision! We took the only road available which initially moved north, then turned east. Suddenly the quality of the road began to deteriorate, the dressing sense of people began to change, white kurta – Pyjama and white topis became more prominent. The MH tag on the vehicles outnumbered the GA ones. We were lost and we had no idea what to do, whom to ask for directions. Just as the thought “Are we in Maha....” crossed my mind, we spotted a Police check post which read 'Interstate Police something something... District Sindhudurg' and the only road that turned south (towards Goa was through this check post” we again had two choices. Either we don’t turn keep moving straight, in which case we could have even ended up in Karnataka! Or we turn south and ask the cops for directions. I choose the second. Worse Decision. “Pernem ya side la na ?? ( is this the way to Pernem ?) I asked the cops in Marathi. He replied with a smile “ Ho ikdech, Pan tu aadhi aat ye  !! ( yes this way, but first you come in” as fools we obliged, he asked for my licence, I asked Cyrus to show his.  The Cop said that wasn’t accepted since I was riding the bike. I faked “ it was he who was riding all the way, since the last 5 mins he had a stomach ache and hence I substituted” on hearing this Cyrus snatched the keys from my hand and went out to “Park the Bike properly”, now I will take you to a conversation between me and Cyrus before we began the trip

Cyrus : Pakde gaye toh kya Karege ??

Me : Yaar Tenssion na le, main sambhaal loonga

Cyrus : Yaar kuch bhi kar, Jhooth na boliyo Police ke saamne, mujhe haansi aati hai !!

Back to present tense. I was doomed. I somehow paid 150 bucks, convinced the cops to let us go, being rude would have made matters worse as this was a border check post to track smuggling of illegal stuff. I thanked all my Marathi friends, Teachers and textbooks since my childhood for equipping me with this language which saved me on that day. When the cop wanted to ‘shake hands’ with Cyrus, he just snatched his driver’s license and moved out !!.

After this we both had a huge fight, he wasn’t ready to share the expenses of the cop episode as this was entirely my fault. I had no choice. I had lunch at a tiny Tibetan outlet, he preferred to starve ! we returned to our rooms, my roomie had to discuss plans about a forthcoming Bangalore trip to find and win back his girlfriend whom he had lost touch since the last 5 years, but about that I shall write some other  day.

Mean while in the evening we decided to visit IFFI at Panji, on the way he wanted me  to withdraw some more cash to protect him from “GOING TO JAIL ??” I didn’t. Late in the dark, we walked along the Marina Beach, a small beach on the mouth of the Mandovi river near Panji. He said “Aabeer, Tu mera sabse accha dost hai. Please aaj jo kuch bhi hua, uske baarein mein kisiko mat batana” I sympathized yet again, the worst mistake, a few days later I get complaints from a few friends that I troubled Cyrus all the day !

Since then I have not spoken to him, I have no idea where he is right now. Whether  he is enjoying the comforts of his home which he craved to return to or if he is lost again, this time for good. Years later though I do wish to meet him, to tell his grandchildren about this adventure of ours. Hay wait a minute, What if his grandchildren are just like him ?? I’d rather be content with my grandchildren!