With the first part of ‘Goa < 2075’, a live multimedia novel by Mayabhushan Nagvenkar nearing completion, NT BUZZ tracks its journey over a year and a half
ADITHI SHARMA | NT BUZZ
When veteran journalist and author Mayabhushan Nagvenkar began writing ‘Goa < 2075’ on October 1, 2023, he was not simply crafting a fictional tale set in the distant future. He was engaging in a creative exercise that straddled genres, technologies, and realities — bringing together dystopian fiction, multimedia expression, and an evolving socio-political critique. A year and a half later, it has over four chapters, in multiple parts, and a dedicated readership.
The novel is published in real-time in English and Marathi. Freshly written 500-550 word instalments are released twice a week across social media platforms and the official website. These fragments gradually build up a narrative of a futuristic Goa renamed “Go-aah” — a state now run by a “democratic” corporation instead of an elected government, plagued by environmental degradation, social stratification, and corporate authoritarianism.
Nagvenkar, whose journalistic career has often addressed Goa’s political and social fabric, explains his reasons for choosing this format. “Goa < 2075 is the first attempt in India at writing a live, bilingual novel and in the process, creating a new writing and publishing genre,” he says.
Over the past 572 days, the author has spent almost every day writing, researching or simply figuring out the next narrative turn. Despite the challenges, he is confident that once complete, this novel “will be the most definitive novel about contemporary Goa.”
“I won’t be too off the mark when I say that Goa has descended into a state of sickly decadence,” says Nagvenkar. “Its infrastructure is in chronic disrepair, institutions have failed, and scams are rampant. This hasn’t been a trend unique to any one political party but has perpetuated across dispensations.”
At its heart, ‘Goa < 2075’ imagines a future where Goa’s present excesses and imbalances have reached their logical conclusion. The state is now divided into two classes: the ‘Overlords’, a privileged few who live on the surface with expensive land licences; and the ‘Subterraneans’, the underprivileged masses herded into cavernous underground colonies. Climate change has ravaged beaches, forests are being replaced with genetically modified landscaping, and real estate is cannibalising culture.
The fictional Go-aah is headed by a chief director named Pramodvardhan Rane, embroiled in a political power tussle with his arch-rival, the corporation’s land resources director Vikramaditya Dessai— a character who harbours a fetish for hunting the last surviving tigress and bulldozing the forest for luxury villas.
The other sub-plot follows Vikramaditya’s machinations to take over the last surviving traditional house in Anjuna. “The inspiration for this subplot comes from my own home in Anjuna, which is the last surviving traditional house in the village,” shares Nagvenkar.
Amid this bleak landscape, the plot follows five friends who reunite to avenge the death of a slain friend and his wife, both of whom had resisted selling their ancestral home.
It is a tale of revenge, camaraderie and grassroots resistance — but more than that, it is a personal coping mechanism for the author. “While necessity is the mother of invention, frustration with the present plays the role of a midwife,” Nagvenkar remarks.
“Most of my non-journalistic writing focuses on Goa and on Anjuna, in particular. Over the last decade, I have seen my own neighbourhood plucked and ravaged. Sometimes it’s just too much to absorb,” he adds. “This novel is my own personal way of dealing with the unsavoury present.”
Despite its ambitious format, Nagvenkar notes that the readership remains modest. Around 250 to 300 readers follow the novel across platforms. “Perhaps the protracted nature of the format makes it difficult for readers to really sink their teeth into it,” he speculates.
But more than mass popularity, Nagvenkar values the integrity and longevity of the narrative. “I would argue that it makes good reading,” he says, “or perhaps discovering ‘hidden secrets’ of an overexposed and over-fatigued Goa through social media handles may seem far more interesting.”
While the story stands strong on its dystopian narrative and socio-political commentary, its form is equally compelling. As a live, multimedia novel, each chapter is accompanied by relevant visuals and experimental performances. “Q, an avant-garde filmmaker who moved to Goa, tried a radical new experiment: a book reading, set to music and live visuals,” says Nagvenkar.
The novel has also inspired solo enactments of select passages, and the author envisions future adaptations in audio, graphic novel, and even cinematic formats. Nagvenkar shares, “The initial plan was to style the novel as an interactive exercise as well as in a multimedia format.” However, that interactive component has since been dropped.
The Marathi translation of the novel runs parallel to the English edition, thanks to Kishor Naik Gaonkar, a former journalist and close associate. This bilingual approach allows a broader Goan readership to access the novel in their preferred language.
And ‘Goa < 2075’ is not a one-off venture. It is the first in a planned quartet of novels, each focusing on a core issue impacting Goa. “While land resource crunch and environmental degradation are addressed in the first novel, the second will tackle the impact of the casino industry,” shares Nagvenkar. “The third will delve into the mining ecosystem. The fourth, as I visualise it now, will be a confluence of all the chaos. Though, plans may alter in case contemporary realities change.”
The first part is expected to wrap up by mid-May 2025. While it’s episodic, pulp fiction-style storytelling makes for engaging reading; the novel also serves as a mirror and a warning. “It provides a diagnosis of Goa in the present along with a note of caution about the future,” the author says.
