Raking the Embers of YesterYears.

““Dude, Is that all what you got for the trip, fucker,” Joshu exclaimed, looking at Brad's tiffin carrier, mentally comparing the teeny parcel with his V.I.P suitcase and an extra baggage, lunging at his shoulder.

“Yeah, man. I told you, I am an expert packer,” Brad flaunted, taking a drag on his second cigarette, as they were waiting on Platform No. 2 at Mulund, the railway station closest to the suburban area where their entire group was located. “ 'And I doubt if I have forgotten anything behind. Where the fuck's the train!'”

It had been a year since those words were exchanged on their trip to Ganapati Phule sands, a local beach near Ratnagiri, on the Konkan coast lining the western shores of India. This time, the guys were off to their dreamland, 200 kilometres (125 miles) further down the previous coast.

The guys were gathered on the same platform, late at night, to travel to V.T., Bombay's major rail centre, to board the Goa bound out-station train. Lalit was making a mental note of all the bags that were gathered around on the platform, around him and everybody. Lij was with the group this time, unlike the spot entry that was seen on the last trip; he was consistent in running away from home though, without gaining any parental consent. That Lij had informed his mom and dad about his whereabouts was a consolation to everybody; abating the fear of being reported to the police.

Pushing his weight onto one leg, resting his right hand on his hip, lurching it forward a bit, Avi was toying with his short growth of beard, pondering over a residential matter with the bespectacled Ralph. Nick was hyper-excited as usual, and was beginning to mutter curses about the tardiness of the Bombay local trains, a minute after their arrival onto the platform.

An hour later, comfortably seated in the unreserved compartment of the out-station train, the feeling of ecstasy was slowly and steadily, sinking in to everybody. It was their first real getaway to another state, not just the physical state of residence, but an escape to a state of freedom and euphoria. It was their first escape to the land of parties, naked women, miles of clear sand, bugging tourists, U.V. parties, and nocturnal escapades. The boys were unaware of the roller-coaster ride that lay ahead of them, but they were sure, that they weren't going to sleep and waste the best part of the travel through the night. The horn blared, and the train heaved a bit, to move itself out of inertia, amongst the continuous chatter, their exciting 7-day trip was just about to begin.

“Who's got the Old Monk?” chirpped Brad, eager to whet his appetite for alcohol as were the others. The train had barely been moving for 2 hours now. The train snaked through the newly dug tunnels in and out, the hollow sound inside the tunnel, that is distinctly different than what the train makes when it is not inside one, was very soothing to the ears. The mood inside the compartment was beginning to mellow down, as the hours advanced, and the train sped past the smaller stations.

The group from Bombay, however, had not intentions of grabbing any sleep, and letting anybody around to catch 40 winks either. Smoking inside trains is not allowed, but is not strictly prohibited either, and the guys had started their chain-smoking, and merry-making. The 'chakanaas' (snacks) and the quarter (180ml bottle) of Old Monk rum was changing hands, cupped in a brown paper sac. The old man huddled in a blanket had begun to say his last prayers, when he found himself among the 6 Bombaites, with smoke billowing out of his blankets, and he found himself being offered the sacred alcohol and the spicy snacks. Nick had decided to hit the bunk, for an early awakening the next day.

Unfortunately for the passengers who were traveling with the group, everybody got into high spirits, and not just idiomatically; the group with their 'mellifluous' vocal-cords had begun singing enthusiastically. For those of you who know how ridiculous the song 'Banno teri ankiiyaan...' and for those of you who know Joshu as well, can very well understand the plight of the befuddled old man, when that song was being boomed into his tympanic membranes by Joshu, cupping his hands around the old chap, as if he were leaking out a gross secret. The song was not a secret, but gross nevertheless. It shall always remain a secret, whether the old man ever led a normal life after that night.

The songs were intermingled with talks ranging from murderous plots to sport discussions, and all the commotion ended up disturbing a person who had managed to snooze, up in his bunker until then. Mr. Seriously Disturbed, climbed down from his sleeping berth, and addressed Joshu very seriously, “Gentlemen, do you realize that you are disturbing everybody and that people are trying to sleep.”

At this, instead of quietening up, and apologizing for the ruckus, somebody quipped, “Sssh! Don't you see our friend, Nick is sleeping and that 'you' are disturbing him NOW.” This called for everybody around to snicker, chuckle and giggle and roll over. Mr. Seriously Disturbed climbed back onto his bunker, solemnly resolving never to travel in an unreserved compartment ever, and if forced to, he would carry a glock with him at all times, just to shoot and put himself out of misery.

It was Lij's turn to keep a watch for the station, and Avi and Brad were giving him company at the compartment door. With his legs dangling out of the train, sitting at the door ledge, alongside Avi, Lij was keeping a sleepy-eyed watch for the Margao station that we had to disembark to proceed to reach our final destination. Anjuna Beach, Goa. Nick had gotten up by then, and was washing his face at the 'sarvajanik' faucet that was spewing out metallic tasting water. Fiddling with the last cigarette in his first pack to be finished, Josh quipped, “Do you want to light another one, man!” Without watching Brad nod his drowsy head, Joshu struck a match and cupped the flame with his left hand, lit his cigarette. Margao was not even an hour away.

“Is anybody interested in 'chai'?” Lalit enquiringly looked at all the faces, finally meeting Ralph's eyes, who agreed to get down onto the platform where the train had halted. It was early in the morning, the normal chirping of the birds was drowned in the 'tring-tring' sounds made by the cold-drinks vendors. The sweet aroma of tea was awakening everybody in the train. It was a long halt, as the train had reached a spot on the tracks where just one train could pass by. It was a scheduled stop, so nobody grumbled, instead everybody decided to get off the platform and have a good stretch.

Ralph was returning with a pack of vada-pavs (fried and breaded potatoes) devoring one himself.
“Where did you lose Lalit?”, Avi inquired, mildly scanning the platform behing Ralph.
“He's coming. He's gone to make some inquiries about the train timings,” Ralph stammered with crumbs of bread falling onto the platform.

The minutes passed by, with everybody sipping their second cup of chai, breathing in the morning fresh air, and everybody was eager to get going again. The train blared its horn and made a soft chugging sound, indicating that it was about time to get going.

The sun had come out from behind the mountains, as the train slowly and hestitantly pulled into Margao station, albeit 2 hours after the intended time of arrival. This did not dampen the spirit of the group, as they trudged their way out to figure out how to proceed.

The place was crawling over with buses, cabs, trucks and jeeps of varying sizes, and with varying fares to take their passengers to their destinations. After much haggling, Avi and Lalit found a seemingly sturdy vehicle for our journey to Anjuna beach; the price was Rs. 20 ( 50 US cents) per head, and rounded off to Rs. 100 for everybody.

The house locator was Ralph who had the address to the bungalow, where the guys would be camping throughout the trip. However, it was difficult to find out where the gang was dropped at by the driver. Those palm trees in almost every direction did not aid their sense of direction. The calm ocean waves were inviting, beckoning the guys to jump in and the azure sky was lulling everybody to sleep. Nick decided to move their baggage and shove everybody into the shade before proceeding any further, in the scorching sun. The smokers decided to take a small break before starting to walk. The first group consisting of Nick, Lalit, Lij and Ralph moved on with their bags.

After much contemplation and about 30 minutes, Avi succeeded in dragging the remaining two to walk to their house instead of camping right there, as Joshu had removed his shoes and was wearing his hat right over his eyes, all set to take a small nap. About half a kilometre ahead, they found the other group trudging along slowly.
“Hey look, our guys haven't got really far. I guess, walking in the hot sun on this beach with those heavy baggages is really difficult,” Further thoughts about their difficulties were arrested by the sighting of the first naked breasts on the beach. Those breasts were just lying right there atop a naked woman, who face was shaded beneath a straw hat. Within 5 minutes of beginning to walk, Avi, Joshu and Brad realized how tired they were to proceed any further, and decided to park for 20 minutes right besides their hot and brand new resting partner.
“Aah...Now you know why those guys didn't get any further than that...he heh” Avi chuckled, and Joshu and Brad joined in, almost waking those tits up.

After having an eyeful of utopia that lay in front of them, they started walking reluctantly in the general direction of their compatriots who were not in sight presently. Walking like a troll, Joshu was reminding bystanders of the dying sheikh in the Arabian deserts, dragging his suitcase behind him.

At the same time, Ralph was talking with his aunt from Bombay, who was there much before they arrived. She had made all the arrangements for her nephew and his friends to rest and have a wonderful stay, right from the free coconuts to the made up beds. By this time, Joshu and Avi were crawling into the bungalow; closely following at their heels was Brad, with a cigarette dangling from his lips. Within moments of arrival, Lalit, Lij and Nick changed into their swimsuits and strolled towards the warm sea for a dip. Avi's hunger had kicked in and needed some good food and water, really exigent, as he was convalescing from a relapse of hepatitis. Joshu unpacked the food, spread out the spicy Indian pickles, and chappati (kneaded and rolled wheat bread) onto a leaf of newspaper that was lying around.

Brad was lying on the cot, observing the dried white paint that hung loosely from the ceiling, shifting his gaze to the swaying palm leaves outside the mud hut, pulling at his cigarette softly. Picking up the offered cigarette, Joshu visually caressed the bare backs of the women that were seated on the verandah.

“I think we should offer them some of this stuff. Foreigners usually love spicy pickles. What say?”, Avi suggested, mocking Joshu's stare.

“Sure, why not? Go ahead, my man,” Joshu winked at Brad, as Avi got up and dusted his back, packing the stuff with one hand.

Brad got up from his resting position to follow the situation, and Joshu had already started chuckling with anticipation. Avi walked up to the girls, and offered the eats, which was politely declined and the bearded man walked back into the room.

“Well, that was a good show of feeding the dogs some shit, 2 minutes after getting to be neighbours,” said Brad, in an attempt to irritate Avi.

Avi did not respond and walked to the back of the room, showing his middle finger to Joshu and Brad. Brad got his cigarette back from Joshu, and the two of them laughed harmoniously.

On the beach, Lalit was swimming vigorously, against the waves, as it was high tide then. Lalit stood up in 4 feet of water, and yelled to Lij, "Come on further in, man. The water's pretty darn good."

Lij hestitated for a moment, before moving in. Nick was further away from the 2 of them, trying to compete with Ralph who was practising his underwater strokes. After a long haul from Bombay, it took not more than 35 minutes for the four of them to move out of the water and bask in the afternoon sun. 10 minutes later, they were carrying their sand-covered bodies towards the house that was sheltered amongst a thousand palm trees.

Dusting the sand off his chest, and flicking his head to one side to get the hair out of his eyes, Lalit was enjoying the warmth of the rays on his bare neck, savoring every movement of the trees ahead. It seemed like Mother nature was orchestrating a panaromic dance just for his benefit. Lapping every bit of it, he raced the others to the bungalow.

Certain facts about the bungalow were hidden from its presents occupants though.

(To be continued...)