Beaches and Sunsets

I’ve stood by the fact that I’m somehow both a mountains and a beach person. To me, the mountains symbolize the boundless opportunities for us to chase our dreams, reaching for the sky. On the contrary, the beach grounds me, reminding me of our insignificance in the grand scheme of things.

For those of you that don’t know my family is from Goa. My mom was born and bought up in the city of Panaji and my maternal grandparents stay there. Growing up we’d spend about one month of summer vacation in Goa, so naturally the place has rubbed off on me. Even today I associate summer with Goa, with the freshly picked mangoes, the visits to the beach,and the susegad* life every Goan takes pride in living.

Growing up, people constantly reminded me how fortunate I was to get to visit such a place every summer, and I don’t get me wrong, I was grateful back then. However, my gratitude has only deepened over time. For me, Goa has always been beyond the parties and alcohol. It’s about the hardworking people in the markets, the sunsets embraced in silence, the subtle smell of the sea in the air, the handpicked mangoes, visits to ancestral temples,the Portuguese architecture and the lingering remnants of colonialism in cities, towns, and villages. It’s about the stories, both big and small, unfolding everywhere you look.

I think I’ll make this a series of posts covering mainly beaches and sunsets, architecture and well maybe something else I find interesting

Beaches and Sunsets:

I went to watch every sunset I could at the beach. I’ve attached some pictures that I thought were worthwhile herewith. Every sunset was different, every sunset came with its own unique colours and experiences for me. One day I was engrossed in taking pictures of the sun just as it set, while another day I just sat in silence, spilling all my thoughts into a diary. Sunsets are as they say a great reminder that everything good and bad does pass.The sun that set, bringing darkness today, will rise with all glory again tomorrow.

Beaches somewhere awaken the mini-philosopher in me. They serve as a reminder of how at the core of our existence we are united, and we all merge with nature, just like water drops eventually merge with the sea. Beaches humble me too, reminding me of how we are nothing but a grain of sand in the history of the universe. So many people have come and gone, so many stories and struggles, yet at that moment, everyone comes to enjoy a sunset, the sand, and the sea. Beaches make me feel small and tiny but simultaneously make me feel infinite. Infinite in the sense that since our existence boils down to something so small, what do we have to be scared of? Why do we have to limit ourselves by standards that people who came before us have set? Why do we have to take everything so seriously? Everything is fluid anyways, and none of us is going to be around forever, might as well live happily and in gratitude while we are.

Although I captured numerous pictures of the sunsets, the memories I remember the most aren’t the ones in these photographs. They are fleeting moments of human connection that I wouldn’t want any camera to capture. For instance, exchanging smiles with an elderly man as I lay in the sand, admiring the cotton candy pink sky or watching the sunset alongside a random stranger together,or marvelling at bubbles being blown and popping them like I was a child or the ice candy me and Richa shared on our way back from the beach. It’s witnessing people of all ages, faiths, and backgrounds coming together to play in the water and watch the sunset collectively. There was this sense of tranquillity I found in observing the sun’s descent—the way it dipped behind the hill, transforming into a perfect red sphere before disappearing, all within a matter of minutes. However, it was mostly about taking a moment to pause and observe life passing by in silence.

Overall all I’d say in the end is that Goa and its beaches bear a special place in my heart, and is a place where I feel at home. I hope I keep coming back, until next time.