Preface
Where days are stretched out.
Goa lies tranquil in a state where a day ushers in when the first rays of sunshine glisten the young leaves on the lofty palm trees swaying gently on the eastwards fringes of the yellow sandy beaches, and it culminates when those rays have done their destined onus and the catchment area rotates to shimmer patterns on the surface of the waters that had just turned languid from a frolic rhapsody in order to welcome the magnificent ball of fire which takes sweet time to heave last few breaths before the waiting sea engulfs it in its depths. The closing ritual of that breath-taking scene heralds the beginning of another day of the nocturnal kind that lingers on till well past midnight, and if luck is on your side and you have risen from the right side of the bed well before the early birds have ruffled their feathers, and if you are not afraid of the whodunits of the dark, then, only then, you might even be a part of that celestial experience of Kipling’s false dawn
Writer Rizwan 