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Of Goa chases

“Great to see you,” she waves at him.

He smiles and rolls downhill.

She curses him and follows. The chase begins.

Goa — 6pm-ish
In R’s car, rolling downhill after watching a scenic sunset. It’s surreal hue painted the sights with a slow sigh.


“I know that guy,” R, our program mentor, said after seeing a boy on the scooter pass us.

The two of us in the car with her — me riding shot-gun and P in the back seat — stared at the boy ambling down the slope on his rickety scooter. We kept watching till it turned a corner and disappeared out of sight.

From this, we got to know two things:
a) The boy had spangled hair.
b) R wanted to get his attention.

And the one thing you should know is this — if R wants to get something, god help those who un/knowingly get in her way.

“Peep-peep-da-peep-da peeepppp!!!”

R’s car horn honked like a mad cat on a hot Goan roof. She cursed, swerved and braked, only to accelerate again sending cars, humans and cats scurrying for cover. Fellow drivers gave angry, startled and surprised glares. Gone were the sunset’s hues and sighs.

Now the road had become a Grand Prix circuit for everyone involved.

For representational purposes only.
Picture from Geulgram

Everyone except the spangled-hair boy who, oblivious of the ruckus, continued ambling downhill.

“How do you know him?” P, the smarter one, asked, trying to engage R in conversation.

“Mai cha gho!!” R cursed in response.

So much for conversation.

“He’s slowing down,” P shouted in relief.

Spangled-hair slowed down at a turn by some telepathic miracle.

“Great to see you,” she smiled, hiding the rage from moments ago.

He smiled, calmly started his scooter and rolled downhill.

She lifted her hands in the air and cursed. The chase began again.

As my blood pressure rose and dipped like the waves, my mouth decided this wasn’t the best time to tell her that spangled-hair might not have heard her because her windows were rolled up.

Is he? Does she? Do they? Revenge? Payback? What? Thoughts and emotions zipped through my head as the question took shape.

“What is this chase all about?”

“He’s stopping.” This time R said it. We exhaled together.

“Hey,” he said, surprised.
“What man?.You didn’t hear my horn?”
“Just finding a better spot to park.”

“Oh,” we in the car went. And to think of all that had crossed our mind. Sheesh!

“So this is yours,” spangled-hair complemented R on her car.
“Yeah I told you i drive,” she smiled. “Now do you believe me?”
“I know,” R glowed. “Now we can go out for a drive.”
He laughed. “A drive, haha.” So much in that laugh.

He kickstarted the scooter and left. R’s smile remained.

“How do you know him?” I asked.

“Oh, I met him when I was on a date with a guy wearing really short shorts,” she roared with laughter.

“Wait! What’s the story of the guy with short shorts?” I asked.

She told me. We laughed. Short shorts will be a good second part to Goa chases.

Picture from Geulgram.


Published by appamprawns

soni writes about children and people in controlled spaces, in his quest for appam stew. homi writes in the hope of being able to buy prawns to make patiyo.

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