Fashionable Monsoon Heaven
By Wendell Rodricks
Goans love the rains. It is a quiet respite from the tourists who cannot quite deal with the downpour. Mercifully for us, the absence of crowds means one can get into a vehicle and see Goa at it’s best. For a joy ride take the Mapuca-Panjim, Panjim-Margao express bus. From Margao I enjoyed a trip to Varca with a friend and sat down to a most enjoyable lunch at a quaint place called River Breeze. It was pouring.
Transparent sheets of glass; through which one could enjoy a clear view of a dappled river, lush green fields and a gaggle of geese and guinea fowl foraging through the farm. Lunch comprised a superb chonak, the head in the curry, the rest deliciously crumbfried in slices. On the side, a bowl of steaming rice and a plate of masala
prawns. Pure bliss!
There are many reasons to love the Goan monsoon. The best way to enjoy the rains is to set out on foot, with an umbrella for company. Walking permits one to enjoy what a car ride can never offer. Walk anywhere.
On the hills, in squishy cities, on damp river banks and deluged streets. I enjoy going up and down the Panjim hill, the glorious view behind the Colvale church (a short walk away), the island of Divar and heritage walks to remote sites. On walks one can marvel at rice growers knee deep in brilliant green clouds, children joyfully embracing the rains, people of all ages fishing, rivers swollen with café-au-lait hued fast flowing water, ancient monuments dripping with moss and moisture, warm tavernas robustly perfumed with feni, and the constant chatter of bird song. A walk in Panjim's Fontainhas area or Campal is delightful. At Campal, the charming Vishal Singh, General Manager of the new Taj Vivanta gave me a tour of the new hotel. Its cream, caramel and cappucino coloured interiors blend well with the glass and chrome. The view from the rooftop pool is breathtaking. One does not realise what an amazing green cover Campal has. From that height I saw that none of the houses are visible. The best part of Vivanta is that they have cleant the canal. I hope the CCP entrusts them with that job so that this rivulet/canal does not turn into a gutter like the sadly polluted Mithi river in Mumbai.
Soon-to-expire-if-not-used frequent flyer miles took me to Dubai for three nights at the swish Park Hyatt. Cool humid Goa gave way to hot humid Dubai. The golden desert city looks empty. Less cars. Half completed phantom buildings. Eerie malls with no bustling crowds. But Atlantis is fabulous. Rekha and Mahesh Tourani took us for Japanese to Nobu. After the gigantic fish tank in the lobby, we chomped on sushi, sashimi and crab legs casseroled in cream and caviar. Delish!
The next night I was back in Mumbai. At the Taj Palace and Towers. My first after the terror of 26/11. The French National Day party was in top spin at the Crystal Room. I danced with Preity Zinta and enjoyed meeting all my Mumbaikar buddies... till the early morning; when we zoomed from Colaba to Santacruz in 40 minutes flat. The Worli – Bandra sea link is a wonder.
For cultural discourse during the rains go to Sunapranta in Altinho, Panjim. I caught two brilliant presentations in one fortnight. Prajal Sakhardande’s historical talk was illuminating. This man must have a computer in his head for history dates and tongue twisting names. How I wish more people attended talks such as this.
Isabel Santa Rita Vaz’ theatre thesis went beyond expectations. If it wasn’t enough that the Mustard Seed put up a fascinating dance theatre performance based on Goa, Ms Vaz then went on to a splendid presentation on the history of theatre in Bengal, China and Sri Lanka.
One of my favourite monsoon indulgences is to enjoy hot bhojem from the village nakko, prawn patties from Perfect Pastry in Panjim or a snack at any roadside tea stall. Que up at Café Central in Panjim.
Ever since Aurora Couto introduced me to their mushroom samosas, I have become a fan. A Café Central mid morning or evening snack supported by a hot chai and a good book( from the stash of the astounding 25 kilos of books I purchased in London and Paris) make the best monsoon past time.
Monsoon is a season to catch up with friends over a meal. It is somehow more casual, more enjoyable, less formal than other times. A Thai meal at the Goa Marriott resort, a Morroccon meal expertly cooked by my partner and a simple fish curry rice or veg thali anywhere takes on a new flavour during the rains. Throw in a game of cards, carrom, board games or party games and the entire lunch or dinner turns into an extraordinary experience, cherished forever in memory.
Thanks to Inox in Panjim and DVDs at home, movies have become another monsoon favorite.
This year my monsoon schedule was rudely interrupted by the huge media circus around the judgement on Section 377. Many turbulent flights to Delhi and Bombay studios ensued. The day the news of the Delhi High Court judgement broke, my shop became a revolving set of TV crews.
While one set up in one room, another was packing up in another. In the whirlwind, the Indian Express newspaper twisted my arm to write an article with a treachours half hour deadline. It appeared as lead story on the front page the next morning. I am amazed how swiftly technology has taken over our lives. At both NDTV and CNBC I barely got off the studio floor and learnt that the shows were already put up
on Youtube.
Now that the dust has settled, I have gone back to the designing board. While there is a downpour outside, we are surrounded by brilliant Brazilian colour indoors at our studio in Colvale. Based on Bossa Nova music, the collection that unveils in September will be seen by the public in stores only in Spring/Summer 2010. That’s why I love fashion. It’s pouring buckets in reality. But in the studio Bossa Nova music is on full blast. Everyone is on an imaginary flight to Brazil. In my mind we are on Copacabana beach in Rio..... dancing the Samba ; with Giselle Bundchen no less. Its all very intoxicating, this fashion business. When I walk home each day, Colvalkars must wonder what I am whistling a tune for and being so happy in the rains. How can I explain that we are having a rocking time with this collection ?
They would not understand how a music style like Bossa Nova can send me to creative heaven.
At night I sit in my candle-lit balcao in Colvale surrounded by four monsoon-perfumed dogs, five monsoon-hating cats and a glass of crystal clear feni twinkling in the light. As each rain shower approaches like the rustling of leaves, the perfume of the fresh damp earth permeates the rooms every few hours. At the tolling of village bells and the Hungarian folk music cd I got from Budapest, hot monsoon sorak curry flavours the air and blends with the aroma of my neighbours wood fire.
I realise why a monsoon in Goa is truly a God given gift. May this season never end.
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The StyleSpeak column above appeared in the August 2009 issue of Goa Today magazine
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