What a dirty beach this is. I told MRP. So muddy. Kashid was better I guess. Why does anyone come all the way to Murud? For this? I kept annoying her. Sometimes I love annoying her. There are various ways of exhibiting love. This is one – annoying your partner. A little annoying way though. 😛
Because Bakrid fell on a Monday, the weekend became long and so she asked me if we wanted to go somewhere outside Mumbai and have a good peaceful time together. I said ok, please make a plan. She said, no, you make a plan. I said, baby, I am feeling very low and energyless this week. I will make plans some other time. This time, I can only join. In whatever you plan. After a little longer sequence of no, you make the plan, no no, you make it, she relented. She made a plan.
The plan was to take an auto to Bandra station, catch a local to Church-gate, join a shared taxi to Gateway, hop on a ferry to Mandwa, adjust inside a ‘free’ shared auto-rickswaw to Alibaug and then ride on a ‘paid’ auto to a resort in Murud. The entire exercise took us between five to six hours. And then, only when we reached Murud, and saw the beach, we realized what a fucked up beach it was. The way to Murud was nice though. At least some of it. Even when the road was pathetic. So pathetic, that we (and more so she) could not fathom the bumpy auto-ride again (for the return leg of the journey) and so, when we returned the next day, we booked an Innova that picked us up from our resort and dropped us off directly at the ferry station in Mandwa.
Because the beach didn’t look worth swimming, we ran. For the first time after our mountaineering fun in Darjeeling, I ran with her. And it felt good. The same evening I got to know something. Which did not feel good at all. A calf had jumped over papa when he was returning home from office on his motorcycle. The calf died. Papa fell down and inured his left shin. Multiple fractures.