The heartbreak that changed someone’s life, forever.
By Tanya Malik
This morning, unlike others, I wake up to a dream. I have been living in this dream-like reality for past eight years, and no, the road to this dream wasn’t an easy one. The best thing about this dream is the feeling of self-sustainment that I got from these serene mornings, here, at Goa. Shifting here wasn’t a dream, which many people do have, in fact, it was quite torturous, to uproot myself from where I belonged and just fly off to this place, but Goa accepted me. This place worked as an aid for me. I, slowly and steadily, with every broken piece, swore to survive and live again.
Goa is happening and unruffled at the same time. You can go for a beautiful morning walk at a Vagator beach and attend a happening party at Baga the same day. It is 6 am in the morning and am here yet again for my daily morning ride through the streets of Goa. As I pass through the lush greens and golden beaches, I feel fresher than ever. Coconut water is the best refreshment one, can ever have. I stopped my scooter near the nariyal paani wala and as the cool morning wind caressed my face, I sipped in the sweet water. But this day was different.
“Arjun,” a call from some lady to her distant playing child was enough to drag me back from the nightmare I had, or thought had successfully escaped. But just a name was enough to bring back the flashback of what destroyed me eight years ago.