Goa in the monsoons is an experience completely different from the high season. The dark, undulating Arabian Sea wells up all of a sudden in response to the sea breeze, bursting out in a flash to gobble up abandoned beach-shacks. The light brown beaches sleep in peace—the onslaught of the tourist season is still a few months away, for the moment they are content with their current playmate—the foam blobs brought in by the waves. Huge bolsters of black and silver clouds cover every bit of the sky but patches of marine blue peep out in between. The sea is rough so the authorities have forbidden swimming, even waist-deep can get dangerous. Just a few days back, a young techie on a holiday with friends had drowned at the Calangute beach. The warnings fail to hold me from the temptation to soak in the salty water. I go ankle-deep and lie flat on my back letting the waves slap my body, sometimes gently and at times hard.