Women have magnificent perceptual systems finely tuned to a wide variety of sensory input. They’re simply faster, more effective, and more efficient than men at processing somatic signals related to the machinery of sensation and perception. This is not just me being poetic, there’s plenty of scientific information showing this to be the case. The reasons behind this advantage by females over males is lost in the evolutionary mists of time, but we can speculate that it served some survival need in the ancient past, and perhaps it resulted from differential evolutionary pressures, including division of labor and sexual selection. In modern times, we no longer use these systems merely for survival. Entire industries have been developed centered around the idea of accurately selecting somato-kinesthetic patterns that enhance our sensory realities for fun and pleasure (e.g., saunas, aromatic oils, massages, body creams, flotation chambers, sun-tanning, and warm baths). Men rarely allow ourselves to enjoy the delights of the senses. Once in a while, we turn them on, such as when we shave or shampoo our hair. Generally, enjoyment of the senses is considered feminine behavior. Not manly. So, I felt a little sheepish that afternoon in Goa, when I took off my sandals and let the warm waves lap over my toes.
After a restful siesta, we decided to walk the length of Agonda beach and explore some rocks in the distance.
We strolled along like wet noodles, splashing water with our feet. As we did so, a few beach entrepreneurs approached us with offers of dolphin tours and nighttime events. We took their pamphlets and promised to contact them if we decided to do it. Some of them were more persistent than others.
“We leave in the morning to another beach,” said one of them. “You will see the dolphins. Very nice”
“Sounds wonderful! We’ll think about it,” Bianca said to one of them.
“My number is in the card. You call me. We leave in the morning.”
He wanted our personal hotel info, but we simply waved at him and carried on.
While I was aware that India had different commerce systems, I had never experienced them directly. So, being approached with wild offers of dolphin excitement by beach salesmen was not in my repertoire of shopping parameters. I did not have a mental schema to gracefully interact with and extricate myself from a stranger promising fun in the waves. So, when it became obvious that our leisurely walk was making us targets for marketing opportunities, we just stared ahead and pretended not to notice the bliss merchants that tried to approach us with their offers of sensory delight.
As I walked along, I got the distinct impression that we were being followed. Turning my head, I saw a pack of stray dogs heading our way.
“Am I being paranoid or are those dogs following us?” I said to Bianca.
We stopped and watched them go by. They kept going, except for one who stopped a few meters ahead of us.
“That’s the dog from the restaurant today,” Bianca said, looking at the lean pooch, the fearless leader of the feisty pack we had encountered earlier that morning.
Canine intelligence is quite astonishing. Sometimes dogs behave in ways that remind you that there is a rational thinking being in there. A being with hopes and aspirations, plans and schemes, even if their logic is somewhat primitive when compared to ours, there is still a sense of mammalian kinship that we rarely establish with other species.
“What are you up to, doggy?” Bianca said eyeing him suspiciously.
When we began walking, so did he. We stopped, and so did he. He looked back and waited for us until we started walking again, and so did he.
“Woah! That’s amazing!” I said. “This dog is following us, or rather leading us. What would make him do that? Why us? All of a sudden he’s our companion for some unfathomable reason.”
I was flabbergasted and tried to think of the neural and cognitive mechanisms for this behavior. It’s evolutionary utility. I had seen dogs following other tourists on their beach walks. Apparently, the creatures just randomly attached themselves to humans and became companions on their walks. Is this how humans and dogs began their timeless friendship? One day, a dog just began following a human for no discernible reason, and the rest was history.
On this side of the beach, there were more Indian vacationers. Mainly families, and more young men than women. Unlike their western counterparts, most of the Indian women I saw there did not wear bathing suits but entered the water fully clothed. I imagined that India being a more conservative culture, its women were less likely to show off their bodies in an openly suggestive manner the way women do in western societies. Though to be fully honest, even I was surprised by some of the outrageous displays of creamy flesh put on by the western ladies on the other side of the beach. Perhaps this could account for the predominance of young Indian men making the rounds up and down the strip.
I saw a guy walking around with an old karaoke machine on his arm and a mic in the other. It emitted a garbled sound, but he more than made up for it with his enthusiasm. In his language, he sang a strange and haunting melody. Its soundscape was ethereal. Other worldly. It reminded me that I was a stranger in a strange land.
The dog led us on to the end of the beach, where the path was blocked by rocks and boulders spilling onto the sea. Jutting out of the ground, in the seesawing waves, water, erect like magnificent Shiva lingams.
Our companion had stopped near the rocks on the beach where the waves lapped against them. Unfamiliar with the terrain and the tides, we decided to climb over the boulders instead. As I began to climb, I lost sight of the dog down on the beach.
From on top of the large rock formation, we had a clear view of the beach and the sea.
“Check this out,” I said to Bianca. “If you look at this rock from this angle, what does it look like?”
She gave me a sly look. “Are you twelve?”
“This could be a sacred place,” I said in a detached scientific tone. “It looks like a Shiva lingam. It could very well be a sacred place of worship.”
"Uh-ha."
On a slab of rock nearby, I saw a young amorous couple laughing softly side by side. The girl’s long legs were bare as her dress had casually slid over both of them. The boy held her hand and seemed very agitated as he playfully reached to touch her hair and land soft kisses on her hand.
To my left, I could see the lush fertile mountainside, and to my right, the wide open sea.
We finally climbed down the other side and the dog met us there, seeming quite satisfied with his cleverness.
“He knew the way all along,” I said. “We should’ve trusted our guide.”
On this isolated strip of beach, a pungent odor was carried in the breeze- dead sea things. I spotted several fishing boats moored inland in a nest of tangled nets.
A group of Indian fishermen worked on their gear while others appeared to be resting. As I came up to the sand, I realized that they were enjoying the show being put on by a very fit blond girl who was wearing a short tank top and tightly engineered yoga pants. Her male companion had a professional-looking camera that he used to photograph her sublime poses and Nordic contortions.
Bianca and I smiled at the naughty hijinks and carried on with our canine bodyguard following close behind us.
Like intrepid explorers, we climbed over more scraggly rocks to see where they would lead. The stony sentinels rose above us. The mystery drawing us ever on. As we maneuvered through the narrow crevices we came upon another couple who had been hidden by the boulders around us. The man was shirtless and wearing shorts. The girl wore a slinky bikini. They seemed surprised to see us. They passed by us in the narrow path, and the girl flashed us a pink-cheeked smile as she went by.
As we rounded the corner and reached the spot where the couple had been, we saw that there was nowhere else to go, and the view was blocked by the cathedral of rocks.
“There isn’t much space here,” Bianca observed.
“They must’ve been really cozy,” I said catching her drift. “Maybe we interrupted some aquatic liaison.”
Isn’t that romantic? I thought. At the end of the road, there is love.
What was it about this land that made you want to… snuggle? Seriously, without being too crude, I was feeling a bit frisky already. Later in the journey, I would learn that in India it’s not just the food that is spicy.
On our way back, I noticed that the amorous young couple was still there and had gotten more touchy touchy with legs entwined and showering each other with kisses in exchange for glances.
The karaoke tunes blared in garbled cacophony, ethereal against the setting sun.
We spotted what looked like a lagoon at the edge of the tree-line and explored the surrounding environment with our binoculars. Mountains, palms, and lush vegetation rising up the mountain.
I sighted a large bird propped on a branch near the edge of the water.
“I think it’s a kingfisher,” I said.
“Oh yea, like the beer.”
“That’s right!”
Bianca peered through the binoculars.
“Oh, he’s beautiful!”
At the precise moment when I sighted it through the binoculars, the bird hopped off the branch and dove into the water with graceful precision. It disappeared beneath the surface in a quick splash then resurfaced with a squiggling fish in its beak. Flapping its wings, it flew off into the forest with the fish flailing in its beak.
“That was amazing!” said Bianca.
“A Discovery-channel moment,” I said.
Our dog guardian, who had been patiently waiting for us nearby, yawned.
“This pooch is hard to impress,” I said.
Seeing as we were taking our sweet time by the lagoon, the dog finally got tired of waiting and simply wandered off on his own.
The sun had already turned orange as it glided towards the horizon.
“Can you smell that?” I said.
“The smoke?”
I nodded. “I think that’s why the sun is so pale. Look at that purple haze over the ocean.”
Out there, on the hazy horizon, boats circled in the waves while the silhouetted crewmen dropped nets into the shimmering water.
“Imagine being a fisherman,” I said looking out at the intrepid crew. "What a life!"
There was a commotion further down the beach where a crowd of onlookers had gathered.
“Now what’s going on?” said Bianca.
Guards raced by in a jeep. Contrary to my expectation, they ignored the commotion and just kept driving towards some unknown destination.
As I got closer to the source of the raucous, I saw a boy from one of the nearby restaurants hauling buckets of food that he emptied on the sand. This caused a stampede of cows, calves, and riled up dogs. Tourists crowded around them snapping selfies, reaching out to feed the cows, pet them, and the whole thing was pure bovine mayhem.
Then, out of a mystic vision, the horse materialized on the beach. Stoic, he made his way down the beach, stopping only long enough to let a human pet him.
This land was pure blissful madness.
We sat on the sand and watched the last rays of the red sun fade to dark below the horizon. The fishermen in the distance hauled their nets up the boat while a flock of seabirds circled above them with eyes on their harvest. Beyond the shadows of this scene, the sun dimmed on the horizon, and the stars began to glitter in the sky.
Mood Music
Punjab by Karunesh
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1.1, 1.2, 1.3, 1.4, 2.1, 2.2, 2.3, 2.4
Images and video by @litguru
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