200 words! Yay!
The Zuari is one of the bigger rivers that pass through Goa. Two bridges arch over it, one for trains, the other for motor vehicles. Cross them, and you are officially in the south of the state (or the north, depending on which direction you are heading in). The motor vehicular bridge, which curves in seeming imitation of a gentle bay, is in need of repairs, and has been in need of them for close to a decade.
The river itself could do with some maintenance, as could all the waterways in the littlest state in India. And yet, in spite of the flowers, bottles, thermocol pieces, and other natural and unnatural debris floating in it, the murky water still contributes to a fairly picturesque setting. For now there are still trees and islands and splendid sunsets and brushstroke clouds. Right about now, the gulmohar trees are bursting into brilliant red, the laburnums are dripping yellow, and the river is just starting to feel the call of the changing seasons. Soon, with the onset of the monsoons, its waves will be a muddy red. For now they are a a dark enough blue to obscure the depths of the Mosquito.
For the sake of clarity- in Konkani, Zuari= mosquito.
Day 56: Natural remedies from my culture