My Goa tales

What I found in Goa and what I found out about Goa:

1. Goa is completely an Indian state. No ifs and buts. Though my brain knew it earlier, but somehow my mind always put Goa in a different category among the rest of the states in India. I found common Indian people there working day in and day out. Yes, we get to see a lot of tourists from foreign countries because of the beaches and the tourism department.
2. Goa is best seen in a two-wheeler. We rented a Honda-Activa for a day and a half and traveled almost across the state. The narrow yet clean roads, the picturesque coastal roads, the daily life of the inhabitants, and the not-so-daily life of all the tourists --- all these can be best witnessed in a two-wheeler drive. That’s what even foreigners do.
3. Goa beaches embrace you. Really. You feel loved inside it. You can wade deep into the Arabian Sea if you are in Goa. Thanks to the shallow coasts Goa is proud of.
4. Goa has more than just beaches. Although every tourist place is related to a water body, Goa promises you different experiences too. Not just getting wet in the beaches.
5. You get confused between river and beaches. Goa has Mandovi river in the heart of Panajim city that meets the Arabian sea somewhere. It makes it really difficult to differentiate between the two.
6. Alcohol also flows like river in Goa. It is so damn cheap there. Another thing you get confused about.
7. Tidal forests. Believe me (how much ever stupid it may sound), I didn’t know what tidal forests are until I visited Goa. A forest submerged inside a river. Although it looks spooky at times, I loved the view. You find a lot of such tidal forests in Goa, like in every nook and corner.
8. The minimum charge in an auto-rickshaw is Rs. 60. Not officially though. We boarded an auto-rickshaw to a near-by place where the hotel guy said it would cost Rs. 30 or so. As a reply to that, the auto-rickshaw driver said, “I can also say you can get a hotel room in Rs. 500. Will the hotel guy agree?” We sat there silent and speechless.
9. Ferry. They do exist. Free of cost in Goa.

I want to poop….

May 18^th, 2014. It was my cousin’s wedding at Guruvayur. I had been excited about it from quite a while. All the cousins’ reunion, getting to see all the aunties and uncles. Just love it. But it was the first time that I was attending a cousin’s marriage as a toddler’s mother. With my Sid. That too, without my husband. Sigh. For all those who had been in Kerala during summer can imagine how hot it was. To top it, I wore a silk kasavu (zari) saree and some jewelry.

So, the marriage got over in Guruvayoor. I got one small glance of the bride in that crowd. We headed to Thrissur town for lunch and reception. My younger cousins took care of Sid for some time. (By the way, taking care means running behind him.) Then came the lunch. I finished my sadya (a Kerala lunch) in exactly 5 minutes. That’s way too fast for me. I caught my all-sweaty Sid, placed him on my lap before the lunch table, and tried to feed him. The first time, he refused. As usual. The second time, I scolded him and force-fed him, and he threw up. Yes. He vomited. There goes my silk saree. I rushed to the wash area, cleaned him. I then rushed to the wash room to change my dress to a simple and oh-so-comfortable kurta. We left the wedding hall and headed towards the Thrissur bus stand. There was no point trying to feed him again. So I bought an Amul milk shake since he was dehydrated and I knew he would be hungry soon.

We boarded a KSRTC bus to Calicut. And he drank the drink all yummily. Here starts the incident.

After an hour or so through the journey, Sid said, “Amma, I want to poop.”

I tried to postpone, “Is it ok if we reach home and poop? We will reach sooner.”

He usually says ok for such a request if it is really a bad situation. However, this time he was insisting, “No amma, I really want to poop.”

I said, “It’s ok. You can poop. I have worn you a diaper, so you can poop. We can clean it later.”

He said, “No. I want to poop.” (As in, in a conventional manner). Gradually, he became louder and started crying, “I want to poop. I want to poop.”

Before I could go to the driver asking him to stop, the people in the bus noticed us and as they all know Malayalam, they went to the driver and asked to stop the bus. The driver pulled over right away. I, holding him, hopped outside the bus (thank God it was a deserted place), undressed his diaper and trouser, and held him so that he can poop. Aahhh, such a relaxing expression he had. My mom helped me wash him as two boys from the bus supplied us some bottled water that they had carried in the bus. We all boarded the bus again and resumed the journey. Sid drifted off to sleep. Peacefully. However, what didn’t drift off was the co-passengers’ giggles and comments. Especially those two boys. The next time the bus stopped, they were asking who wants to poop next. I sat there silently with an embarrassing yet a motherly smile on my face. Did I over potty-train my baby? He was just not comfortable with the diaper. Therefore, I curse those boys (a sweet curse since they actually helped me with some water), “Their kids will also want to potty in a bus journey. And that the kid doesn’t tell his parents.”