”THE REAL VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY CONSISTS NOT IN SEEKING NEW LANDSCAPES, BUT IN HAVING NEW EYES.” ~ MARCEL PROUST
In January 2019 I had decided to limit the operations of my band in Delhi. The plan was to hit the road from Delhi to Goa in a Hyundai Santro car and live there for two months. The plan was to get an apartment, do some gigs and spend as much time on the beach as possible. The plan worked.
Chapter 1: The Bandwagon
I had met Nishant Singh only a couple of weeks ago while on the lookout for a permanent lead guitarist for Woody Accouche.
Nishant seemed inclined to join the trip to Goa, having begun pursuing music in recent years and considering my suggestion of a baptism, amongst many, as only Goa can deliver to musicians and artists; while being perched together at a hippie capital of the world during the winter season.
Chapter 2: Delhi To Goa
Day One. Udaipur. The cheap hotel seems like a cultural heritage site in itself.
Day Two. Lonavla. OYO on the outskirts.
Day Three. Goa. An approach through quiet forest plateaus as the sun set into darkness.
After a short stint checking out rented accommodation at a village in the outskirts of Arambol we found a nice spot next to a temple overlooking the plateau from its balcony.
Chapter 3: The Beach Life
We spent most of our days gigging. The pay was not much. But, like I said, a baptism is not about piggy banks. From past experience, my anticipation was to breakeven on the expenses of this journey and our stay at Goa, which we just about managed, eventually.
Artists turn up in Goa with dreams of writing new songs, doing production of all sorts and maybe making money or getting laid. But that’s never how it ends up.
Goa offers you what the world cannot and will send you home with just enough money to touch rock bottom in style. And you will be better off or worse; but never the same as when it welcomes you.
Chapter 4: Retrospect
I’ve seen all sorts of freaks in my life and they continue to surprise me, to the extent that they can. Some of them gave me gems; some gave me a nickel and some took all I had which wasn’t much to start with.
But I find my way back on the road eventually with music by my side. It once told me, you will never go hungry in the world as long as you have a guitar on your back. For me that would suffice, both then and now.
Each month I would catch a flight to Delhi and back, having clubbed the monthly roster and freelance gigs, from various clients into a week to ten days of the month. Never happened before nor likely in the foreseeable future.
Chapter 5: The Muse
In every great escape I found a muse. In this case both Nishant and I did. Her name was Rohita and she opened our minds, our hearts and our spirits with her words, her laughter and her tears alike.
I am sure we will always think of her fondly and hope to see her once again amongst the audience with a bright smile, dancing to gentle tears.
Chapter 6: Daily Life
I shall restrict these lines to the commendation of firstly, the daily devouring of lovely local bananas and secondly, the pristine waves of Keri beach where we found ourselves when we were not gigging; working out while looking at the sunset and running back into the waves to get lost at sea every now and then.
The whole routine left us exhausted for the most part and unable to hang out and get drunk with the groupies and the band aids, even as we made sure to sample every delicacy of the inexpensive local and international cuisine on offer.
Chapter 7: Tantric Monkeys
For the most part, bands are meant to serve the people, even though they must serve themselves. And even though I missed out on a lot of international acts that had been making appearances throughout the winter season that starts in October, I fondly recollect the last gig of the season by Tantrik Monkeys, towards the onset of March.
I found myself at the staircase beside the stage with a perfect angle of the band, and its audience, in a state of elation, yet control, making the most of an evening.
Chapter 8: Goa To Delhi
As the season ends travellers thin out, the sun plays foul and the gigs become scarce.
Day One. We decided to detour from our earlier route via pristine interstate highways and instead chose the coastal village roads not knowing that at some point it would involve taking a ferry, eventually making it to our first stop; the most pristine white sand beach I have come across on the western coast of India; still non commercialised; an authentic and serene haven of country living.
Day Two. We made it past Mumbai towards the Union Territory of Daman. It is only a slight detour on the highway to Delhi, along the western coast of India. The beach here seemed more like black sand beaches. Either that or remnants of tar from oil tankers, washed ashore during their annual cleaning.
Day Three. We did not enter Udaipur this time, but found a humourless oasis on the highway for a pit stop.
Day Four. May I also add that the roads were immaculate all throughout the length of this journey until we reached the shit storm that is the outskirts of Delhi, through Haryana.
Chapter 9: Looking Back
My initiation as a professional musician on my very first voyage to Goa was in 2012 over four months straight. Since then I had never returned to it as a resident musician barring short stints to feel the waters.
Goa is an institution not a mill. There is so much more to explore and learn in life. Much music to be made. For those who learn the chaotic lessons of Goa life goes on. For those who don’t, the rabbit hole is a dead end.
Love
Wumbaya
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