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Literary capers Probably the most unlikely place to unwind with a book and a cup of coffee, Goa is not restricted only to its pristine beaches and party atmosphere...so get set to discover Goa's unknown literary treasure. As uncanny as chalk and cheese, Goa and books sounds like a divorced idea. My last trip to the place, however, revealed the literary culture of a place I had previously equated not with books but with the greater known b’s- beer and beaches. Lazing at Candolem beach, I decided to walk around the vicinity before starting with the daily beach bumming. As I noisily crunched the gravel in the lanes of the sleepy neighbourhood and the afternoon sun beat on my hat, I saw painted black letters of the word ‘Literati’ on a white board, with the neat symbol of a steaming cup of brew. There seemed to be no sign of a café, so I knocked, then swung the bell at the quaint wooden door. I waited endlessly till it dawned on me that everyone likes to take a siesta in this part of the country. Curious to explore the café, I barged in noiselessly and saw stacks of paperback editions, yellowing pages lying on small coffee tables in the garden that surrounded the Goan house. A lean, tanned hippie pushed her dreadlocks aside and adjusted her glasses more firmly as she turned the leaf of her book. Furrowed lines of concentration appeared on the forehead of the man swinging on the hammock nearby, as he seeped deeper into Gregory Robert’s Shantaram. Literati, as I discovered in the next two hours, is the unique concept of a bookshop café which offers a wide selection of books that is updated every week. It has new and used books alike, which can either be borrowed or bought. From Mark Tully’s India’s unending Journey to Khalid Hosseini’s A Thousand Splendid Suns, the place houses books on the country as well as writings by different nationalities. Rows of fiction are juxtaposed with books on Indian artists, and all of this can be enjoyed with the finest varieties of tea and coffee, be it Monsoon Malabar coffee or ginger, mint and vanilla tea. Straight from the heart of the coffee kingdoms of Coorg and Chikmanglur, Literati serves hot and cold coffee alongside coolers and hot bakes, not to mention the hugely popular Chocolatti brownies that accompanied my incessant browsing. Book discussions, evenings with authors and other literary gatherings are regular happenings. I had just missed one on Kiran Desai’s Man Booker winning The Inheritance of Loss by a week. The idea of cosying up to a book in a laidback setting held immense appeal for the book aficionado in me that I had left behind in the city. Having had the taste of Literati, I decided to try OIBS or the Other India Book Store, the Lonely Planet’s recommendation as the best book store in Goa. Sure enough, OIBS did not disappoint me. Largely an amalgamation of writers of Asian, African and South American origin, the bookstore draws a sizeable amount of European travellers who are mostly fascinated and sometimes curious to know more about the East. Started with the objective of promoting alternative writing, the store has some excellent books on the politics, culture and ideology of the nations. Skipping the OIBS bestseller One Straw Revolution by Masanobu Fukuoka, I settled for a more anonymous book on Mexican literature before leaving the store. Almost as if the cosmos conspired in adding to my discovery of a delightful world, I met Daniel, an English chap who gifted me William Sutcliff’s Are You Experienced, a hilarious book of the protagonist Dave’s experiences in India that officially made him a traveller. I bartered my copy of Karma Cola with him for a day with a copy of Holy Cow for some light reading at Brittos. He told me of the spots I could find small-time book stalls, which I promptly trotted off to. Soon, I was standing in the midst of grease-stained romance, a plethora of gods staring back from books on Hindu mythology, and a peaceful Rajneesh contemplating on the cover of Osho Times. Having brought together two of my personal favourite worlds, books and beaches, haggling over an armful of books felt no different than bargaining for beads and a sarong at the Wednesday flea market. Walking in the locality, especially that of Calangute, I saw numerous doors that displayed ‘Books for rent’. Gabriel, whose house I always rent a room at, had also added it to the additional two signs of ‘rooms’ and ‘wine shop’. Renting rare books given by foreigners at not very cheap rates, households make an extra buck quick. It’s great in a way since you don’t really mind how soiled the paperback is as long as it’s legible and something you probably won’t find in a regular bookshop in the area. Savouring a mouthful of squid in cheese and watching the sun go down was only enhanced by Sarah McDonald’s escapades in India chronicled in Holy Cow. Slowly getting comfortable as I sunk into the shoes of a self-confessed bookworm, I decided that sometimes only getting a deep tan or going parasailing shouldn’t be the sole objective of coming to Goa. Next time round, take a break from yet another bout of Club Cubana. Kick your flip-flops and settle down for an evening with words.