Weekender Girls

Once you start working, you have no choice but to find delights in weekend trips to a place reasonably close to your city. I wonder why in spite of having lived in Bombay for more than three years, I had not discovered Maharashtra's true potential. Especially in the magic that lies down the Konkan coast.

I learnt from my mistake and found myself planning the forth trip within Maharashtra this month. It was actually a matter of chance. Ms. Kiki Bakshi and I were looking for a mid point between our cities. Hence we arrived at Ganpatiphule, a religious place, about 25km by a ST bus ride from Ratnagiri. (Trivia: Ratnagiri is the home town of Madhuri Dixit, Sachin Tendulkar and Dawood Ibrahim - as shared by a rather sweet, sweet shop owner). Known for a big ass Ganpati Temple by the white sand beach, this place is easy to effortlessly fall in love with.

We fell in love.

The delights of having nothing to do!

So what does one do when there is nothing to do?

You sing. You sing to the sea, sprint a 100m race, chase tiny crabs, try cart wheels, bury things, bury each other, talk, laugh, feel silly, scream, stare at the dome like sky, yodel and scold the moon.

The science of silliness!

You feel silly. You tell yourself, honestly, that you are feeling silly. And then go a little crazy. Like nuts. Like two nutty nuts. (Two girls I know are experts at this. I am trying to get there!)

Beaching it 

So Bakshi and I found ourselves at the beach getting lost in the blurring horizon. For hours. To have an entire white sand beach with see-through waters entirely to yourself? How does it feel? How does it fee-eee-eeee-eeel? (Susheela Raman cover Like a rolling stone) No, we didn't feel like we ruled the world. We didn't rule the sea, the sand, the birds or the crabs in their little hole-homes. We felt like we were friends. Katti-Abba friends. Abba at the moment. We felt welcomed. We felt the warmth. We felt the cold in the breeze. We felt like we were their guests. We felt like we were let loose. We felt unrestricted. Full of fresh air, fresh thoughts, full of smiles and full of silliness. We felt so full!

A harmonica, a camera, a sun and a sunset! What were we missing? (though we did miss our dear little Bubbles) 

A swim. A swim with all our clothes on. A swim without any. 

So we swam. Jumped the waves, heard the water, watched the birds above us go home, we tasted salt. We floated like dead bodies which rose with the swelling sea belly. We swam in the oceanic blue, the glistening sun dipped blue, the metallic blue, the far away blue, the blue which smudged the skyline, the blue which made way for white soldier like waves. The white washed blue, the blue green blue, the aquatic blue, the purple blue. The blue of the ocean that refuses to just be itself. And we jumped the waves, chased the waves, waved at the waves  and danced like sea ballerinas, we fell, we swam, we sang and spluttered and splattered and laughtered! We laughtered our silliness!

And we did all this while watching the sky change on us, the sea change on us and grow on us. We did this while the night took over, while the stars twinkled one by one and the moon calmly took over the glamour.We got lost in the pitch of darkness, in the quite of the air, in the noise of the sea, in a place where the far away lamp lights tried in vain to reach us.

We talked. At times. 

Sometimes the over celebrated sunset is too pretty for any words, any lens or any song.
You just have to see it.
You have to sea it!

But we didn't see the famous Ganpathi temple after all. 

Among other things:

A fort, a jetty, a self proclaimed miraculous village museum, spasticated birds, a cinnamon tree, an exquisite auto ride, an all purpose kirana shop selling drum sticks, a perfect conqueror's picture, filter kapi, an exiled burmese king's palace, coconut water, some fish, some amul ice cream and some peace.