Sitting on the ocean front in Goa (Rajbagh beach), behind the Lalit- as I write these lines. 11:00 am in the morning. A spotless blue sky, deep blue ocean- shimmering in the sun and the waves crashing away- noisy and relentless.
Spent an enjoyable session in the water in the morning- it was high tide and the waves got increasingly bigger and inched closer and closer to the orange flags fluttering in the sands. Children had a blast- standing like Tarzan and taking the wave head-on and at times, allowing the wave to exhaust itself and limply hug their ankles!
The sand is clean-spotlessly clean and quite unlike the Indian beaches we are used to. A group of ladies, all well dressed and equipped with baskets meticulously pick up scrap- bottle caps, twigs and other debris washed up by the ocean. There are as many foreign tourists as Indians on this beach. Everyone seems to be having a good time.
Devu is a masseur- keeping his client busy in the adjoining recliner in the sands. He strokes a foot here, vigorously rubs a thigh there and gently rotates an ankle till it finally clicks.. "Awaaz aaya? (did you hear that sound?)" he questions.
His hands are deft and swift. His client is evidently in the seventh heaven and one can't help but overhear interesting bits of conversation. "Ayurvedic oil hai," when his client questions what concoction he uses. "Massage ka solid item hai usme! Dard-bhird... sab kuch khalaas! (All pain will vanish)" he announces with an air of finality! "How old do you think I am?" he asks. Without waiting for an answer, he reveals- "45 years, but I don't look it! You know why? Exercise hai puraa mera! Life mein tension-vension kuch nahi!"
It is difficult to pin an age to Devu- a full head of hair, a cap and dark glasses now pulled over the head. His face registers age, but not his arms- they are rugged and muscular.
Moving his hand in circles over the tummy, he surmises that his client doesn't smoke or drink and has no gas problems! If it's so evident to Devu, why can't our doctors take a leaf from his book and spare us the tedium of answering these questions? It is clear that he makes good money and lives a good life.
He takes his time- 45 minutes to an hour and charges 500 rupees. "Discount hai maloom! Phoren log ke liye 1000 (1000 for foreign tourists)". Another interested client feels that it is pricy.
"If you don't like it, you don't have to pay!" he trails away and gets down to pinch the sole with one hand and tug each toe with the other, applying just the right pressure. "You have a lot of tension here!" he diagnoses and clicks his tongue in disapproval. Watching him in action is therapeutic, relaxing and totally entertaining.
Like Zakir on the tabla, he ends the session with a series of delicate strokes on the head- complete with sound effects!
He hands over a fresh tender-coconut juice to his client. Next, he whips out his business card with his mobile number and says with a flourish, "Call me tomorrow. I can do it for 400 this time. There was a big man staying at the Lalit. He left yesterday. He got this massage done four times," he beams and moves on to the next client.
I took the trouble to get Devu's number. Do let me know if you're interested!
Rajbagh Beach |
The sand is hot, scorching hot- for the sun is now high up in the sky; you scamper for the nearest shelter as you try to walk without footwear. But the kids don't feel the heat. They're busy building a sand-castle here, a moat there and a rather elaborate canal.
There is an animated conversation how the tide will bring in water which will be channeled through these makeshift canals to irrigate a totally different part of the beach. Probably, the Rajasthan Canal Project also had such humble beginnings!
A speed boat cuts across the seascape with a whirr which competes with the roar of the waves and leaves behind a trail of white foam.
The ocean is rimmed with a gentle roll of hills on three sides- hazy bluish-green in the distance and a bright splash of green coconut groves provides a distinct contrast in the foreground.
Spent an enjoyable session in the water in the morning- it was high tide and the waves got increasingly bigger and inched closer and closer to the orange flags fluttering in the sands. Children had a blast- standing like Tarzan and taking the wave head-on and at times, allowing the wave to exhaust itself and limply hug their ankles!
The sand is clean-spotlessly clean and quite unlike the Indian beaches we are used to. A group of ladies, all well dressed and equipped with baskets meticulously pick up scrap- bottle caps, twigs and other debris washed up by the ocean. There are as many foreign tourists as Indians on this beach. Everyone seems to be having a good time.
Devu is a masseur- keeping his client busy in the adjoining recliner in the sands. He strokes a foot here, vigorously rubs a thigh there and gently rotates an ankle till it finally clicks.. "Awaaz aaya? (did you hear that sound?)" he questions.
His hands are deft and swift. His client is evidently in the seventh heaven and one can't help but overhear interesting bits of conversation. "Ayurvedic oil hai," when his client questions what concoction he uses. "Massage ka solid item hai usme! Dard-bhird... sab kuch khalaas! (All pain will vanish)" he announces with an air of finality! "How old do you think I am?" he asks. Without waiting for an answer, he reveals- "45 years, but I don't look it! You know why? Exercise hai puraa mera! Life mein tension-vension kuch nahi!"
It is difficult to pin an age to Devu- a full head of hair, a cap and dark glasses now pulled over the head. His face registers age, but not his arms- they are rugged and muscular.
Moving his hand in circles over the tummy, he surmises that his client doesn't smoke or drink and has no gas problems! If it's so evident to Devu, why can't our doctors take a leaf from his book and spare us the tedium of answering these questions? It is clear that he makes good money and lives a good life.
He takes his time- 45 minutes to an hour and charges 500 rupees. "Discount hai maloom! Phoren log ke liye 1000 (1000 for foreign tourists)". Another interested client feels that it is pricy.
"If you don't like it, you don't have to pay!" he trails away and gets down to pinch the sole with one hand and tug each toe with the other, applying just the right pressure. "You have a lot of tension here!" he diagnoses and clicks his tongue in disapproval. Watching him in action is therapeutic, relaxing and totally entertaining.
Like Zakir on the tabla, he ends the session with a series of delicate strokes on the head- complete with sound effects!
He hands over a fresh tender-coconut juice to his client. Next, he whips out his business card with his mobile number and says with a flourish, "Call me tomorrow. I can do it for 400 this time. There was a big man staying at the Lalit. He left yesterday. He got this massage done four times," he beams and moves on to the next client.
I took the trouble to get Devu's number. Do let me know if you're interested!
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete