Gain on a single day

Yesterday I set out to go to Panjim.

I walked to the bus stand in Margao. It was almost 11.15. Margao to Panjim in a shuttle takes about an hour. I did not want to reach Panjim at 12.00 noon, so I entered a cyber-cafe.

Then I wanted a shave. The barber I went to was a unhygienic little fellow. I did not want a shave.

As I was getting out of the complex I saw a booze shop. I wanted a drink. I bought myself a drink. Then I took the shuttle to Panjim.

I reached Panjim at 1.00 p.m. I called my friend who was expecting me. We arranged to meet & have lunch. The fish was good.

After lunch we went to his office where he is a programme director. I saw the set up: It is housed in an old Portuguese Goan heritage house. The colour is white and blue. Very attractive indeed.

He showed me around. There is a room where he displays reproductions of world art according to theme. The one that was on was women in art. There were paintings of Van Eyke, and miniatures and Picasso. There was Klimt, shiele (schiele?). "It is primarily for visual literacy ", he told me. We went to admin room.

I met two lovely women. The white board there listed the events for the week.

Next was the open courtyard in the making. Right now it is mason's mess! But I could visualise what it was going to be. Cafe where arty farty folk would discuss art and fart and blow money. Some would make more money, I could not help thinking.

Lastly we went to 'Lila', play, which is a very intimate space for anybody featured as the resource person to "play" S/he can draw, paint, sing, dance, sleep, read, listen to music and sing... No interference, no judgement. Just free play. Unwind. There was no remuneration, but material was provided. Some participants bring their own and leave it there as they love interacting in this space. It is once every week. On Wednesdays.

"I want to feature you", my friend said.

"I would love to be featured!" I said faithfully.

" You are being sarcastic!", said my friend.

"?" Thought I.

Sarcastic? Why? It was an intimate thing, this Lila. I loved the openness of the concept.

Then I told my Friend something that I thought was important to say. I said that he should not read between my lines. That would lead him to arrive at conclusions and further lead him to misinterpret me. "We have nothing to lose anymore", I told him, "since we are both middle aged failures!

_______________________________________

I then walked down the old rout, down the hill, down the steps and onto the winding downhill path that led me to 'boca de Vaca'- mouth of a cow. It is the name of a natural fountain in Panjim. It is so named because the fountain head resembles the mouth of a cow.

From there I entered the busy city streets, along the 18Th June to Clube Vasco da Gama. I went to the art shop there. I wanted to see material. I must start painting soon in order to keep my sanity. There were many impressive things in his shop. Impressive, but expensive. I bought a handmade pad for watercolours and some brushes. The shop owner also paints. I found him typical, a stuck-up Goan who has, perhaps done a bit of something in Mumbai and has retired to sell art material. He paints,boring little pictures.

______________________

I was waiting for it to strike six. Andre Pereira Gomes had an appointment with me. Andre is my lawyer.

He had just returned from Pernem in the North. He sounded exhausted. But he welcomed me. Andre is kind.

I did not know how to get to his place although I had been there once with Victor. Andre said that I ask any 'pilot', the yellow-black motorcycle cabbies and they will bring you here. Any of them?

I went to one pilot and told him Andre's name. "Dotor advogade", I said. The pilot knew him, and knew him well. "How is that everybody knows this lawyer?", I asked. "Oh!", said the pilot, he is Godinho bar's 'saddu'. Hm!

Saddu is wife's sister's husband. Bar's saddu? In Goa bars even have saddus!

When I entered Andre's flat he was sandwiched between two clients. Andre told me briefly what their problem was. And he told them what my problem was. We all felt connected. We had all been done injustice to. Andre would try to get justice for us all. I handed him the documents I was supposed to give him to study my case.

____________________________

Back on the street I searched for a phone booth. About ten minutes later I found one, so I called my brother.

He was waiting for me. He had some more documents xeroxed for me. I went to his house, a km away from the phone booth I called him from.

He was alone at home. Daughter had gone for tuitions and wife to work. We had not much time to chat so I suggested he give me the docs.

I had to rush because the last shuttle to Margao where I am living at the moment, leaves at 8.30. It was 7.15. I had some time for a drink and then to the bus stand and thence to Margao. I walked. I had a drink before catching the city bus to Bus station. There again I had a drink. I caught the 8 pm shuttle to Margao. By 9 I was in my regular bar In Benaulim.