Monday, January 04, 2010

Welcome 2010

2010 is going to be a big year for me, because this is the year when my life will undergo some radical changes.
Since I started working as a software engineer in Bangalore in 2004, life had become rather routine. But on the 1st of January 2010, I would be unemployed for the first time ever. By noon of the 31st of December 2009, I had completed all my last formalities at work, sent all the farewell emails, met most of the people that I’d wanted to meet before leaving, backed up all my personal data from the office PC and cleared almost everything from my cubicle. Doing all this had taken time, and now it was almost 1 pm.
Most of my friends were going to Gokarna to usher in the new year, and I had made a last minute plan to join them there. I had booked an afternoon flight to Goa, and arranged for my brother to keep my motorcycle at a place from where I could pick it up without having to go home (my parents were never too keen on my long motorcycling trips, so I didn’t want to tell them about my grand plans). My flight to Goa was to depart at 3.15 pm, and I got to the bus-station at 1.30 pm. On the best of days, the bus takes at least one and a half hours to get to the airport, by which time the boarding gates would be closed. There was no way I would make it to the airport if I took the bus.
So I got into a waiting cab and asked him to take me to the airport on the double. It was the cab driver’s lucky day because he could charge me any outrageous amount and I would be willing to shell it out. To my disappointment, he decided to make hay while the Sun was shining. But I was thankful that at least we were on our way. The driver seemed to have a lot of confidence in himself. So much so, that he stopped for fuel, and then again to buy bananas and cigarettes.
Vinay called me midway, and wasn’t surprised to hear that unlike a normal human being, I wasn’t all checked in and waiting for the boarding announcement. Trust me, for those who know how talented I am at missing buses, trains, planes and all other public transport systems, it wouldn’t be shocking at all.
Once at the airport, I ran all the way to get my boarding pass. The guy behind the counter urged me to hurry as boarding for my flight had already begun. After a quick security clearance, I reached my terminal just as the last person went through the door. I was going to get my flight, yay!! This round went to me, but I just know that there is going to be another duel with nature very soon.

After landing in Goa, I got out of the airport and immediately on a bus heading to Margao. Once there, I hopped onto a pilot motorcycle, that would take me to my brother’s friend’s place where my motorbike was parked. Once the bike was tanked up, I began the long 5 hour journey towards Gokarna. Regular updates from Meena, Shaarad & Thomas kept me up-to-date with the scene there. I took just one short tea break near the Karwar port, and it was close to 10.30 pm by the time I reached Om beach, where the others were.
I was quite tired by my long journey, and just one REALLY stiff drink of vodka that Lawrence poured was enough to get me in high spirits. I was just getting through my second drink, which by the way, was rum, when everyone around me was counting down. A quick glance at my watch confirmed that it was indeed midnight already. We hugged each other and wished everyone a Happy New Year and all that.
Since we hadn’t been too successful in finding a room in the already over stuffed place, we decided that we would just spend the night by the beach. We were not alone in this noble pursuit, as we saw revelers all over the place collapsing under the stars beside the sea. This peaceful, romantic setting was a pleasure to everyone except for, you guessed it, the damn cops. They were there in a flash shining their bright flashlights on our faces. Runu, who had promised to keep watch, told them that we were all Germans. But the cop was not convinced, so he asked loudly, “How many Indians are there in this group?” Somebody answered two, at which he bellows, “All the Indians get out of here.” Nobody moved an inch. I’m not very sure what happened next, but I vaguely remember some cop asking his mates to leave us alone as there are ladies in our group.
Once the cops had left, and the effects of the alcohol were wearing out, I began to realize how cold it was. I did not have any thick clothing to protect me from the chilly sea breeze. But Karla shared her shawl with me, thanks to which I made it through that first night of 2010.