Nearly murdered in Goa

Nearly murdered in Goa

“Enjoy Goa, best vacation destination in India.” I was leafing through the classifieds, and the travel section was full of such ads offering various package tours and hotel stays in Goa. As I read through them, I grinned at the memory of our last trip to Goa. We had got a free hotel stay at Goa through a credit card agent. He had first come to me and offered a credit card. “Only six hundred rupees saar.” “Get lost. I have four credit cards” “OK…I will give it to you for free saar.” “Get lost. What will I do with another card ?” “I will give gold card free saar.” “No.” “I will give free stay in Goa saar.” “Eh?” And that was it, he got me. He offered a free stay in Goa for three nights and four days at the Resorte De Goa, which seemed to be nice place with swimming pool, lawns, tennis courts etc. So the next weekend me, Vinod and Saurabh scooted off to Goa, with plans to bunk office for a couple of days. It was the first time I had driven down to Goa, and we had a great time on the Bombay- Goa highway – surely one of India’s most beautiful roads. The stay in Goa was great, the hotel was nice (only the tennis court was a hash, with grass growing in the cement court) but we never did get to have a swim as Saurabh was determined to see all of Goa’s sights, whether he could actually see them or not. It was nine in the night, and the road was dark as pitch, and Saurabh was determined to see the next beach. “You stupid bugger! Its dark as hell, what will you do at the beach?” “come on yaar…its just close by…” He seemed to be carrying a list of beaches and was ticking them off one by one. Visited Anjuna –tick…visited Baga – tick…visited Dona paula – tick… ‘What will you do there – goddamit?” “Come on yaar…please please…” And there was no help for it, we had to go and the only thing we saw was a vast expanse of black with the sound of waves coming from it. Old Goa, Panjim, Miramar, Mangeshi temple – we went through all of them in an orgy of driving. Saurabh didn’t know how to drive, so it was Vinod or me who used to end up totally exhausted at the end of the day. And one day, we were at Fort Aguada. We went up and down, admired the beach, sweet talked the lighthouse guy into letting us see the lighthouse, and then went back to the car to call it a day. “Come on guys – lets go to Chapora fort, its just close by.” The list-man was at it again. “What’s Chapora?” “Arre its another fort – quite close by.” It was still early in the day, and so off we went. It was a lovely drive to the fort, and soon we could see the ramparts of the tiny seaside fort. There was a nice black top road, and it seemed to lead straight into a pair of gates. There was no sign on the gates, so we assumed – after some hesitation – that this might lead to the parking area of the gates and drove right in. That was a mistake. As we entered, we saw a flame burning, and a group of men huddled around it. Like fools who rush in where angels fear to tread, we drove further in. As we came closer, we saw that the flame was in fact – a body being burnt! Shit! A body was being burnt and a group of ruffians was seated around it, ensuring that no trace remained. They looked terribly dangerous, with skins burnt black by the sun, and corded tough muscles moving like snakes underneath their skins. They were dressed in lungis and none-too-clean t shirts, and their mouths were stained red with paan (or blood?). they all had a mean and deadly look, and – more scary was that most were armed with koyta’s or short knives. Oh no! We seemed to have stumbled on a murder, and the gang disposing of their victim! One guy approached us, he seemed to be less drunk and less mean than the others. “What do you want?” “I…er…um…Ch..Chapora ff-fort?” Vinod quavered. “Chapora fort not here. Get out! Now!” he barked at us. But suddenly I seemed to be affected with rigor mortis. I just couldn’t move. The gang came at us. “You bloody $#$% $%#$ son of a $#%$%…” one of them growled at us. “What are you doing here you #$@#?” and without waiting for a reply he backhanded Vinod across the face. The shock of the slap splashed over me like a bucket of cold water. I finally got out of my stupor and revved the engine, but I had trouble engaging reverse gear. The sound of the engine revving seemed to enrage them further, and they rushed at us screaming abuses. Two or three guys tried to slap Vinod again, and he was desperately trying to fend them off. Saurabh had quickly decided that discretion was his policy, and it was the work of a second for him to take off his glasses and dive on to the floor of the backseat, well out of the way of any physical violence. They were all around us now, and one guy pounded on the bonnet of my car. I was lucky enough to escape the physical part, but the blow on my car was like a scar on my heart. “Start the car you fool, get us out of here.” Vinod screamed, and I finally put into reverse and screamed out of the gate. They followed us out, still banging on my car and shouting the filthiest of abuses and epithets after us. I nearly put the car into a ditch, and had to stop the car, and for a second I thought it was all over. Visions of being murdered, drawn and quartered, boiled in oil, burnt alive flashed before my eyes. But luckily they did not come after us, they went back inside and closed the gates after them. I somehow reversed the car and zoomed out of the vicinity. Chapora can go #$#@ itself, our lives were at stake here! We stopped the car at the next beach, and had a soft drink to fortify ourselves and calm out jangling nerves. Vinod wanted to complain to the police, but Saurabh was completely against it. “Arre yaar…you don’t know the political contacts of these gangsters, they will finish us off. If you register a complaint, they will come and kill us. They have our car number, it would be so simple to find us in Bombay. I tell you, lets just be happy over being alive.” But Vinod was still reliving the indignity of those slaps, and wanted revenge. “No! We must do our civic duty and inform the police! And anyway, it is Ketan’s car, so they will know only his address, not ours.” I was staring sadly at the dents those criminals had caused, but these words made me jump. “Er…no no…let it be…why get involved…my address…” Finally we managed to convince Vinod to give up his police complaint plans, but we couldn’t resist going to the police and asking him what was there beyond those gates. If it was an abode of criminals, then maybe we could take the matter further. “Sir, what is there behind those gates near Chapora fort?” “There? Arre baba, that’s a funeral ground. Don’t go there, OK. There was a death yesterday and they will be burning the body now. It would hurt their feelings if you interrupt them in their moment of grief. And these fisher folk can be so touchy…” “Goa – the most exciting holiday…” I saw the ad again and grinned. Oh yes, exciting is the word. My car still has those dents. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------