This break is me sticking to my mid-year resolution of experiencing susegad, Konkani for the Goan way of slow living. The word traces its origins to the Portuguese sossagado, which means “quiet”. I embrace susegad as I spend my time in a villa at Beleza By The Beach. I loll by the pool reading Ali Smith’s Autumn. The first instalment in Smith’s seasonal quartet, the novel, which was published in 2016 and examines post-Brexit Britain, effortlessly merges the personal and the political aspects of a country living through a transformative time. I am especially taken in by the friendship between young Elisabeth Demand and her elderly neighbour Daniel Gluck. They bond over conversations around art, literature, and life. Their relationship make no sense to Elisabeth’s mother, and to the world. As a reader, I am, however, fascinated by their innate understanding of each other. It is a relationship that surpasses the acceptability of age and time, even consciousness (In the novel, Daniel is in a care home, unconscious), indicating that finding meaning in connections is relative.

After two days of incessant reading, I begin to start feeling like Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City 2 (the movie) after she has emerged from her New York apartment, ravenously hungry after two straight days of uninterrupted writing. It’s the same situation really; just replace writing with reading.

On day three, I head out for lunch at Juju, a fine dining space in Colva that specialises in reimagined Indian cuisine. I recall what Govind, the F&B manager at Beleza By The Beach, had mentioned something about the crustaceans on this side of town: “Their meat gets better under the full moon,” he said. I waste no time in polishing off stuffed crabs with a side of mini appams. A long lunch and many swigs of Juju’s in-house banana-infused whiskey and tamarind-infused tequila cocktails later, I head to The Dogears Bookshop in Madgaon. Since it is a truth universally acknowledged that a serious reader must traverse through multiple books at a time (I don’t make the rules), I find myself a slim copy of Jon Fosse’s A Shining.

A solitary book for solitary times. A man drives deep into a Norwegian forest only to get stuck in the snow. As night falls, he encounters a luminous presence, enlightening and warm, embodying a hope.

Published by Fitzcarraldo Editions, which has brought out works by three other winners of the Nobel Prize in Literature, Svetlana Alexievich (2015), Olga Tokarczuk (2018), and Annie Ernaux (2022), there aren’t enough words that can do justice to this stunning English version of the book made accessible to us plebeians by Damion Searls, translator also of Proust, Nietzsche and Rilke. I joyfully devoured the 48-page work as I washed down a plate of delicious prawn rissois with a pint of Poder Pilsner at a local dive in Benaulim.

As I head back to the comforts of the resort, I notice how quiet the south of Goa is and how starkly different from the lanes of the north that are teeming with tourists. The only sound that makes its presence felt is the whisper of the sea.

I’m not done eating yet and at Nazare, a beachfront restaurant, I order a Goan sweet platter that includes bebinca, dodol and jaggery pancake – something sweet to end the day with. The sound of the sea waves has merged with the playful barks of the local mutts who own the beach after sunset. Aren’t they worried about being pinched by the crabs? I wonder. Maybe they’re friends; maybe they’re not. Well, as long as they’re carefree and happy, it’s all good. I can’t claim to ever feel that joyously unencumbered but books do provide happiness. I took refuge in them during my reading holiday in lovely Goa and I feel infinitely rejuvenated as a result.

Arunima Mazumdar is an independent writer. She is @sermoninstone on Twitter and @sermonsinstone on Instagram.