It used to be so effortless returning to Goa. One almost never felt the blues. And yet, there’s a first time for everything I suppose. While I took solace in the fact that I was going home and that was always awesome, I was completely unprepared for what happened. It’s hard enough returning from a place that’s hyper efficient and works almost like clockwork. But it’s harder still returning to surprise gridlocked traffic, an area-wide power cut and an internet outage.
For the very first time ever, I felt waves of sadness to be back. Mildly tinged with regret. I spent large parts of last week crawling back to normalcy, fighting the cynicism and the urge to complain. But every time Im feeling like this, Goa woos me again. Like it did on Sunday night, with a stunning sky, spectacular sunset and an opportunity to get a drink by myself as I watched the drama unfold.
Of late, it has felt like my life here falls short on many fronts. But that’s not so much about what the place has to offer, as it is about my changing expectations and needs for myself, Ive realised.