'What is the name for those who collect the beautiful?' is a sentence from Salman Rushdie’s new novel, Knife, that appeared to slice through the sand belly of Agonda beach, in South Goa, after three days of incessant rain.
“This is not the best time to visit the place, but after COVID, the number of domestic tourists addicted to Instagram, visiting the beach has increased manifold and that explains the few souls on the beach,” says Davina, as she awaits customers for the gelato she sells.
Agonda, during the season or when it is at its peak – normally from November to February – is picture-postcard perfect. Pristine beauty. The beach is serene, the sand a mixture of softness peppered with the coarse feeling of the earth, and it leaves many with beautiful memories entirely worth storing.
As the monsoon starts, the village resembles a stage with its curtains down and the beach, a barren ground littered with waste.
“This beach has been accustomed to receiving the waste from the sea for long, though it keeps getting worse every year,” laments Sharon, as she waits for her daughter to finish her tuition classes.
About 70 per cent of Agonda is closed during the rains with some locals giving a facelift to their establishments, and others designing new landscapes – to lure more customers in the coming season.
“The place is not as dead as it seems. There are quite a few Indian tourists staying at some places, and we have customers opting for our South Indian cuisine,” admits Justin, who manages one of the coffee shops that has remained open during the monsoons.
"Many bars and restaurants are closed, but the wine shops are doing well,” says Justin.
At this time of the year, Agonda has four restaurants that serve vegetarian and non-vegetarian meals, but most establishments facing the sea are shut for the season, with many being refurbished for the upcoming season.
“The sea is too bad these days. It is even dangerous to walk barefoot as there are broken bottles, rusty nails and other material strewn all over the beach. Cleaning will start once the roar of the water silences,” explains fisherman Adolfo.
“I have Indian tourists and locals coming for tea, bhajia (onion pakora), chillies, samosa and bhaji. Except for parents taking their children to and from school, traffic is minimal on this stretch of the beach,” says Vasu as he joins his customers in conversation.
There are just three rickshaws at the rickshaw stand and a couple of motorcycle taxis. Once in a while, the daze that the village is engulfed in gets disturbed by the sound of a taxi whizzing towards a corner of the beach.
“We have come because of what we have heard about this beach. It is dirty unlike the beach in front of the hotel where we stay. It is going to take a while to clean this beach. There is hardly any clean place to relax on the beach,” drool a group of tourists as they get immersed in selfie acts.
As the rain starts pounding and the wind turns into gusts, dirt begins flying on the beach, forbearance seems to be the name that fits those who are out to see and record the beauty at Agonda beach.