Goa gone triped

‘Very sad to know about that’ my friend said gloomily.

I scratched my near past in my mind, puzzled as none had died lately and no casualties had occurred to be sad about.

I gave him a questioning glance, “what? What is it all about?” I inquired.

Beachy Life-everything which is beyond reach is beautiful

‘Oh! Your Goan trip on Christmas gone sour’ he explained with a confused voice.

‘Oh, THAT! I felt relieved. Thank God! No causalities to be sorry about.

Don’t worry. It’s okay. I don’t give so much importance to spoiled plans, anyway.

On the first place itself it was not my idea of vacationing. My husband imposed that on me to vacation in Goa in busy Christmas season and he was in a hurry to book the tickets prior to Diwali in October to get the best place booked but I kept postponing as I had no interest in holidaying with him especially when he was not at all well and doctor advised him treatment and no exertion for his crohn’s.

But he was adamant. His official leave travel allowance was getting lapsed this year and for the first time in his fourteen years’ service he was suddenly willing to avail that. I was amazed.

Anyway he booked the tickets but our seats were in waiting list.

Generally, he books tickets in waiting list but his colleague friend gets the tickets confirmed before the departure date so he was not that bothered about the waiting thing anyway.

My brother’s wedding had just been wrapped up last week and we had already spent a neat sum on all those preparations, but vacationing without shopping before it, is no use and that also in these ‘on your face, on the DP and all over the internet selfies’ times. I had to do mall hopping again after that wedding shopping to buy the best on premium rates for this Goan holiday and again I had a HIGH spending my man’s moolah and nothing can beat that feeling, believe me.

All the bags were packed to the full. No matter how much you pack still there are so much left to be packed and no matter how many dresses and accessories you have packed, they still seem to be less; though most of my stuff comes back unused after my holidays every time but you can’t beat this temptation of ‘just one more.’

Even if I have the Biggest bags to pack my -oh so few items – I still run out of place and certain things keep lying staring at me on my bed and on the floor pleading me to pack them in any tiny corner of any bag and I helplessly pack five bags instead of two and feeling guilty but still explaining myself that everything is damn important and cannot be done without.

End of discussion and explanations.

I am tired. Something is ordered and we just gobbled something up and lied down fixing our alarms to get up on time to pack and repack again in the morning.

Kids are given whole lot of instructions, which I am myself not convinced about but as a ritual may be it is customary and necessary to instruct kids off and on as we are so used to receiving these instructions ourselves since our childhood and there seems to be no harm in passing them on to our next generation. But I am somehow more confident that the way we hardly heeded any ear to these uselessly required instructions, the same way our kids are also not interested in them. But why take risk of sparing them the ordeal?

Again the same story started.

Whenever I and my husband have to go anywhere, perhaps we get so tensed up that we end up fighting on trivial things and both resent and comment and moan and groan and finally pick the bags to the cab.

Well, all packed up and stuffed but our journey tickets still not confirmed but we were hardly bothered because this was not the first time we booked tickets on waiting and always we had the experience of getting our travel confirmed on the railway station itself.

It was chilling…no…it was killing cold.

Two days prior to Christmas and people looking like Santas on a black and while platform oozing fire and smoke from their mouths and ears and what not.

The railway station was so jam packed as if the whole Delhi is going on vacationing.

We ran frantically to check our ticket confirmation. It was insane.

For the first time in my life I realized what it was to leave home without a confirmed ticket and hoping to reach somewhere.

So many of us live life like this – with no confirmed plan of action to check and we just move on hoping to get somewhere. Some are lucky but we all are not destiny’s child, my dear.

Anyway, after waiting about one hour in the station, train arrived. We moved hither and thither in hope of confirmed ticket to check with ticket checker but in vain.

I spotted a penguin like fellow gathered around with not so shiny and impressive faces and I guessed with the sheets in his hand that he ought to be a TC.

Immediately with my bag and baggage I ran towards him. Panting and fainting, I told him our ticket story, which he genuinely seemed to be interested in. I got hopeful but suspicious, too.

It’s not every day that some stranger will get interested in your story if he has no interest of his own.

With sugar-laden words, he told me to call my hubby dear, which I obliged. I was irritated with my husband for running so slow lest the tickets will be off and train will go too.

You know, I was right.

This official was more interested in his interest than mine.

Out rightly, he asked a whopping sum of Rs.28,000/- for four to make us SOMEHOW reach Goa. I was stunned.

How confident can anybody get! WOW!

Everything has a price. Everything sells at a price. Even if it is a jam packed train and its seats. SOMEHOW.

My husband looked at me. Shall we pay the price? I felt nauseating.

We shout around complaining corruption but do we take the right step when our turn comes.

Are we ready to sacrifice a little comfort and luxuries when it’s our turn to fight the corruption head on?

We had the money. We could buy. But it was not about the money and buying power. It’s about the value and moral ethics.

Shall we be ready to pay the price when it’s not right?

Yes, price as well as the ethics, both were high at stack.

We didn’t pay the price.

We took a cab home. On our way home we got some most sumptuous meals packed near Nizamuddin Dargah which everyone relished back home.

My husband googled every destination possible to lift the damp spirit up to find a place to vacation around.

My kids were cooking up excuses to give to their buddies about their cancelled Goa trip.

I was panicky because this morning itself we had bid our househelp adieu for one whole week with some extra money to see her in the New Year. Now I was dreading the all grinding up in the household chores.

I started having headache even thinking that the maid is not going to turn up the whole week.

The most beautiful thing about time is that we have newer hopes and explorations with each passing moment.

No GOAN vacation feeling finally sank in and we tuned into our routine, our office, school and everything as usual with a new lesson of life or may be somewhat more than we could achieve by catching that train which was GONE.