MOTHER AND MADNESS

Em and The Big Hoom is the debut novel of the Bombay-based journalist and litterateur Jerry Pinto, who has his roots in the village of Moira. A well-known figure in the journalistic circles, it came as no surprise when the imminent publication of his novel was much talked about in the press and what is more, an excerpt from the book wasalso published by a very prominent publication. This novel has received rave reviews in the national press, with the Indian Express calling it “insanely good” and such celebrity writers like Amitav Ghosh and Kiran Desai giving a huge thumbs-up for it. Following the release of the novel Jerry Pinto was featured in major national dailies, giving many interviews and never once failing to charm us by his wit and depth of thought. So when so much good stuff has been in the air about a novel that everybody says is good, I opened Em and The Big Hoom with a lot of premeditated ideas.

            The title of the book is at once enigmatic. It gives nothing away: the fact that it deals with a mentally ill protagonist, Imelda or Em and her dutiful and devoted husband Augustine or The Big Hoom. The couple has two children, Susan and a son: the narrator of the novel who curiously remains unnamed. The Narrator (let’s call him that) is on a quest to learn about the genesis of his mother’s illness; what was it that triggered it in the first place and why was his father standing rock-solid besides his mother despite everything. He tries to understand his mother and at the same time come to terms with his mother’s mental illness. Telling this story then becomes an act of catharsis for the Narrator. The novel describes the family, with all its eccentricities, laughter and tragedy.

            Jerry Pinto in his novel has tried to see the humane side of a Goan Catholic working-class family battling with mental illness. The family is dysfunctional. They live in a crowded and chaotic city – Bombay; in a one-bedroom-hall-kitchen flat. The Narrator has to endure these pressures, all the while dealing with his own adolescence as he ekes out a living for himself. Along with the story of his parents, the Narrator also tells about his frustrations, hopes and fears.

            This novel is dark and brutally honest, yet it is told with lively humour and has a host of colourful characters. Em is a lady who smokes a lot of beedis, has frequent bouts of mania and depression, and who tries many times to kill herself. She doesn’t hesitate to talk about her sex life with her children, much to the discomfort of the Narrator! The Big Hoom on the other hand, is a reserved person who is the rock of the family while Susan, the daughter, appears to be playing a less significant role. The Narrator has to construct the story from scratch as the details that he seeks have to be patiently obtained from Em. He has the daunting task of sifting through the enormous amounts of notes and letters that Em wrote, for she had this habit of jotting her musings and thoughts down on paper.

Jerry Pinto has written a delightful novel and there is no doubt about it. For a topic as serious as this, one breezes through the pages with effortless ease. His lilting prose provides this space for empathizing with the Mendes’ of Mahim, who are battling with mental illness in their family. The portrayal of the Catholic family is unlike the stereotypical rubbish that the film industry has been churning out over the years, and one that the rest of this country believes to be true. And since we are on the topic, novels like Em and The Big Hoom and Savia Viegas’ Let me tell you about Quinta, which are published by ‘big’ publishers, could go a long way in changing this perception about the Goan Catholic.

The novel also raises a few issues about the idea of motherhood. Em loves her children but she seems to be against the idea of motherhood. For she says that she didn’t wanted to be a “mudh-dha” [her inflected version of mother] and that she would be stuck “being someone whose definition isn’t even herself.” The portrayal of Em is not the regular romanticized, ever-loving-ever-giving mother but a more nuanced and a complex one. The son on the other hand seems to be torn between his love and duty towards his mother and trying to find his own independence and space away from his mentally ill mother. He also fears that his mother’s mental illness might be transmitted to him through the “genes”. Perhaps this is why the Narrator tries so hard to understand his mother and take care of her.

Jerry Pinto also attempts to paint a picture of the grind that mentally ill patients and their families have to go through: how patients are treated in hospitals as well as the attitudes of the doctors and society. Although there was space for a damning indictment of how the system operated during the times the novel was set in, Jerry Pinto does not channel much of his attention in this direction. Caste is briefly discussed in the novel, but the references are fleeting. The attitudes towards mental illness and the protagonist from a caste-based perspective could have been elaborated, especially when there are moments, brief ones they may be, when Jerry tries to suggest caste inequalities, but stops short for some reason. Although Jerry describes emotions and the suicide attempts by Em in raw detail, the dearth of descriptions of those cramped places (the setting for the novel) in which the people – and particularly the working-class – of Bombay negotiate their lives on a daily basis could have enriched the reading experience.

Jerry Pinto went through a grueling process of 27 drafts over a period of 25 years and this novel is worth every minute of your time. How one understands this book would be one’s own way to appreciate it. This is a novel that one has to connect or understand on a very personal level. Em and The Big Hoom will stay with me for quite some time.

Em and The Big Hoom by Jerry Pinto (New Delhi: Aleph Book Company), 2012; pp. 235, Rs. 495/- [ISBN: 978-81-923280-2-7]

(A version of this article appeared on Gomantak Times, dt: June 30, 2012)

26 ONE-ACT SERMONS

Theater in Konknni is a form of art that is very popular in Goa. Of late, it is heartening to note that many manuscripts are being published and a decent corpus of tiatrs and plays are now available for the general reader. Of the many tiatrs and collections of short one-act plays, Arso: 26 Nattkuleancho Jhelo by Fr. Michael Fernandes is one such book. This collection under review, consist of twenty-six one-act plays and the novelty about this book is that the titles follow the sequence of the roman alphabets from A-Z.

            Fr. Michael Fernandes is a young priest hailing from Benaulim. He has published his writings in various Konknni newsmagazines like Jivit, Gulab, Goan Review, V.Ixtt and some periodicals published by the Church in Goa. An alumnus of the Saligão seminary, Fr. Michael had also contributed to the nagri Konknni daily Sunaparant in its Campus Reporter section. A versatile writer experimenting with such diverse forms of writing such as essays, stories, poems, lyrics and besides being a playwright Arso is Fr. Michael’s first book.

            If we take an overview of Fr. Michael’s collection, we would find that these plays are written to impart good moral values. The plots are simple and move in a direction that allows the author to end with a homily. Issues such as teenage love, respect for elders and parents, honesty, Christian values, concern for the environment etc are discussed in Arso. Fr. Michael also discusses issues like the Goan identity and heritage in the face of rampant changes due to external influences and the in-migration of people from other states. After reading the book, one gets this impression that the main purpose of the author is to impart a virtuous and moralistic message to the readers and the audience. A recurring feature of the book, that one notices, is the rapid change-of-heart to lead a good, moral life of the bad characters found in the book. The way these characters pledge to reform themselves sometimes appears to be too easily done and that the author has taken shelter in convenience. Given the time and space constraints of a one-act play, such brevity is however understandable.

            In Bãym or Well, Fr. Michael stresses the importance of our traditional wells and also the need to conserve water. The use of a particular Saxtti dialect in this play makes interesting reading. In fact there are a few other instances where Fr. Michael has also experimented with other dialects, which is quite a commendable task. In some of the plays, the dialogues for lay characters are written in a way a priest would preach a sermon (for instance in Advogad), which makes the scene being enacted seem unreal. Is there a need to use lofty examples from the Bible at every turn of the phrase?

            That we should care for our old parents is one message that runs throughout the book. The position that Fr. Michael takes on such an issue is not a new one and we have all heard such arguments at various platforms. Fr. Michael’s position will be clear from the following quote from Inam’ where Marcus, a character in the play says thus: “Dor eka putak ani dhuvek mhozo ulo – tumchim avoy-bapuy kitlim-i zanttim pasun zalear, tankam pois korum nakat, nhoi mhonn azilant-ui ghalum nakat. Kiteak, je tyag ani koxtt tumchim avoy-bapuy tumche khatir kaddtat te sonvsarantle her khuinchech monis kaddchenant.” [This is my call to every son and daughter. No matter how old and infirm your parents may be, do not turn away from them, nor admit them in an old-age home. For they have toiled for you like nobody else in this world]. Though in agreement that we should care for the people who love us, is it always practical and feasible to walk the path that Fr. Michael is suggesting?

            I would also like to single out another play that could have benefitted from some fresh thinking by a very young priest like Fr. Michael. In Maim (Mother), in return for a lakh of rupees which would secure Alroy a job, the idols of Mother Mary need to be destroyed and he has to proclaim that there is no use in believing in Mother Mary. Alroy does as he is required by “the group” and immediately he meets with an accident. Or in Tallnni or Temptation, which is a story about two brothers. Since their mother has to go out shopping, she tells her two boys to sincerely sit down and study for their exams which are fast approaching. One brother succumbs to temptation and goes out with his friends to play – only to drown in a river in an act of Devan khast layli (God has punished).

This idea of divine retribution should be abandoned by young priests like Fr. Michael. Rather than continuing with old and stale ideas, Fr. Michael could have infused his writings with a new spirit, one that celebrates life with all its faults and shortcomings. I shall stop here lest I begin to sound too preachy!

            Though many of the themes repeat and overlap in many of the plays, the collection does not seem to be a boring repetition. In other words, the plays are written in a way that sustains the interest of the reader. Arso is neatly printed and bound with almost zero typos. The cover illustration by Alvito D’Costa, though a bit clichéd, is artfully done. The only problem is that the name of the author deserved better visibility, for it seems to be lost in one corner of the cover. In summation, this book not only makes a good read but could come handy to schools looking for scripts of one-act plays to be staged during the annual gatherings. For it is only by encouraging young writers like Fr. Michael that more Konknni writings would blossom forth.

Arso: 26 Nattkuleancho Jhelo by Fr. Michael Fernandes (Benaulim/Bann’nnavle: Micferns Prokaxon), 2010; pp. IX+237, Rs. 100/-; Phone: 91-0832-2221688 (Available at Dalgado Konknni Akademi, Panjim)

(A version of this article appeared on Gomantak Times, dt: June 23, 2012)

For the Konkani translation of this article see here. 

‘ENFANT TERRIBLE’ OR GOA’S FOREMOST NATIONALIST

If there is one Goan, writing in Portuguese, who has enjoyed a decent literary corpus of translation into English and a steady stream of media and academic attention, it has to be José Inácio Candido de Loyola, more popularly known as Fanchu Loyola. In 2007, the journalist Alexandre Moniz Barbosa had translated and compiled a series of Fanchu Loyola’s essays titled Passionate and Unrestrained (See my review on GT: 21 July, 2010 ). Earlier, in 2000, another collection of his essays was also published. This collection, which is presently under review, is edited by the Jesuit Charles J. Borges and translated by Lino Leitão. This review will try to focus on the many introductory essays at the beginning of the book and also try to pose a few new questions vis-à-vis the writings of Fanchu Loyola.

          Besides the editor and the translator of the book, essays of Carmo D’Souza, Yona Loyola-Nazareth, Fanchu Loyola’s octogenarian daughter now based in Canada and Joseph Barros are also included. They familiarize us with the book as well as try to give an insight into the life and times of Fanchu Loyola. These introductory essays or notes are not critical of Loyola’s writings and his political ideologies; they do not go any deeper than providing a brief biographic sketch, thereby giving the impression that they are more like secular hagiographies. However, the short essay that the daughter of Fanchu Loyola wrote is remarkable.

Returning after an unsuccessful meeting with Nehru where Loyola tried to convince the Prime Minister to have a plebiscite in Goa, Yona Loyola-Nazareth recalls, “I never comprehended the depth of his love for Goa till he returned to Bombay in 1958. He returned from a visit to Jawaharlal Nehru in Delhi quite defeated and disconsolate. I could not fathom his distress. He paced restlessly up and down the hallway, sighing until I could not bear it any longer. I questioned him. His answer puzzled me at that time, ‘My child, we have lost Goa. You and I have lost Goa.’ Lost Goa? In 1958? He then proceeded to tell me that although he had done his utmost to persuade Nehru to conduct a plebiscite in Goa, he was convinced that with Krishna Menon at the helm, a ‘military take-over’ of Goa was imminent.”

Fanchu Loyola was a nationalist, but not like the ones who were fighting for the inclusion of Goa into the Indian Union. He was opposed more to the dictatorial reign of Salazar and, as this book makes it amply clear; he never challenged the sovereignty of the Portuguese over its colonies in India.

Krishna Menon

The idea of Fanchu Loyola – the man – that this collection of writings provides is markedly different from the ones that the newer collection Passionate and Unrestrained provides. In the latter Loyola appears to be cautious and civil, though a fiercely outspoken man but in this collection under review, Loyola comes off as an enfant terrible (to borrow the words of Joseph Barros). He spoke critically and directly of the policies of the government and could be very caustic towards his intellectual rivals. Fanchu Loyola replying to one Pereira Batalha concluded his letter thus, “…I view my enemies as tiny frogs and you, Sir, among them is the tinniest, a very tiny ant and despicable. Giants like me crush them under their feet.”

Loyola constantly uses terms like “public” or “people” in this collection to indicate popular support to his views and policies and that his views and policies are in conjunction with the larger public. At this point we cannot forget that most of Loyola’s writings were published in the journal of his own party (India Portuguesa) as well as other journals he established and edited. As of now all we can say is that Loyola’s views were at best claims that need to be rigorously interrogated or tested. The question as to which class of people Fanchu Loyola and his party men were trying to woo, can shed new light on the dynamics of politics of those times.

Though a lawyer himself, it is interesting to note that Loyola never used the law or his legal acumen to discuss remedial measures for the social problems he was discussing. He would stress that the people had degraded morally and had become cowards and it stopped at that. Rather he waxed eloquent on the economic questions and ills of the state, like an economist using tabular data and statistics to argue his case. However, it must be said that he was an avid supporter of enacting and amending legislation to increase the economic productivity of the land. A case in point can be his advocacy of legislative measures to increase agricultural productivity rather than fertilizers and improved irrigation!

Charles Borges

Loyola was a believer in agriculture bringing economic prosperity to the land, with small-scale and cottage industries supplementing agriculture. This is one area where his idea of modernity is of much interest. Fanchu Loyola’s idea of modernity was, in a way, like that of Gandhi, which centered on the village as well as agriculture. Fanchu Loyola was no fan of industrialization and factories, like Nehru was and whose vision of modernity contrasted with that of Gandhi.

In a telling quote, Fanchu Loyola expounds why he did not believe in big factories and industrialization, “I want to propose a question. Why do we not process our coconuts, and start an industry of that nature? Let us not dream big dreams. Big dreams mean big factories, large capital, high technology, expert directors and a skilled working force. Given our modest means, my dear Luis Maria, we cannot afford to lay the foundation of big undertakings. But we can establish small-scale industries, and set them up in our villages. They do not require machinery, nor graduate technicians, nor capital that runs into five figures.”

There is no point in commenting on whether Fanchu Loyola could have written his essays in a better way or could have produced better nuanced arguments. The fact is that his writings can only be put to greater and deeper scrutiny. Excluding the essay that Yona Loyola-Nazareth wrote, the editor, translator and other contributors could have done a much more researched and informed job in evaluating the life and writings of Fanchu Loyola.

Goa’s Foremost Nationalist José Inácio Candido de Loyola: The Man and his Writings edited by Charles Borges, Trans. By Lino Leitão (New Delhi: Concept Publishing), 2000; pp. xlv+218, Rs. 400/- [ISBN: 81-7022-868-9]

(A version of this article appeared on Gomantak Times (Weekender), dt: June 17, 2012)

IDEALIZED PASTS: AN INTRODUCTION TO SALIGÃO

Fr. Nascimento J. Mascarenhas is a very well known priest in Goa. Apart from being a priest for many decades, he has also authored several books on the clergy of Goa and is also intimately associated with the Archdiocesan bulletin Renovação. Fr. Nascimento was and is actively involved in various online forums about the village of Saligão in particular and online Goan forums in general. And through contributing village-related articles and trivia on such forums, The Land of the Sal Tree was born, a book entirely devoted to the myths, history and people of Saligão.

            Fr. Nascimento’s project promises to be a very novel one as all those quaint traditions, superstitions and trivia of a uniquely Goan village are included in the book. This book – as the author is humble enough to claim – is not an individual effort. Fr. Nascimento had the earnest backing of many Saliganvkars, chief among them being the Canada-based illustrator of the book Mel D’Souza and Frederick Noronha. Mel D’Souza (who is also a journalist and author) is a genius in drawing and sketching and his lines enliven the text and take the reader to an altogether different experience. In Acknowledgements, we do find Fr. Nascimento honestly considering Mel to be the co-author of the book, and Mel in his “trademark modesty” asking his role to be “played down”.

            The book introduces us to the village of Saligão: its various wards or vaddes, the prominent houses and monuments of the villages, the well-known as well as the not-so-well-known village personalities and the various stories that Fr. Nascimento as a young boy had heard and which stayed with him for the rest of his life. Fr. Nascimento also reminisces about his boyhood that was spent in Saligão and the various people who shaped his personality. The book is a remarkable introduction to a small village of Goa and a project that has the potential for emulation by other villages as well. Dr. Olivinho Gomes’ Village Goa, a book on the village of Chandor can be mentioned inthis context. Though academic, it can help in guiding such projects.

            Fr. Nascimento’s account of the construction of the Mae de Deus church is truly illuminating. He has dug out a lot of facts from the archives. But the lengthy list of the costs and materials incurred to build the church (pp. 104-112) could have been included as an annexure as it mars the flow of the book. The Land of the Sal Tree is not connected by a single large, unifying narrative. It is rather a collection of diverse stories written with and viewed from the eyes of passionate nostalgia (or should I say saudades?). It gives us an idealized picture of Sailigão; a picture the younger generation will be in awe of, but one that they may not be able to relate to. This book presents a rather fossilized picture of the past and it seems to yearn for a veritable museum where all that was cherished will be preserved as it is. 

            Amongst the many interesting stories that Fr. Nascimento narrates, is one of a boy called Galdinho (related to Mel D’Souza apparently) who climbed the steeple of the Saligão church in a bid to impress a girl! But by far the most surprising and awesome story in the book is of Anthony de Mello, one of the luminaries of Saligão. Anthony de Mello was a great cricketer who put Indian cricket on the world map and was also instrumental in establishing the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI). The words of Vijay Merchant, another doyen of Indian cricket are produced here, as appearing in the book: “For sheer cricket administration capability, confidence and enthusiasm, there was never anyone to equal de Mello. He was the man who organized the Board of Control for Cricket in India, was its first Honorary Secretary, India’s cricket representative in international cricket conferences, and, finally, its President…His trump card was his bowling and tremendous enthusiasm…Anthony will always be remembered as the builder of stadiums without having anything in the bank to his credit…there will never be another Anthony de Mello in Indian cricket.” Surely now, Anthony de Mello rightfully deserves one of the stadiums of the Goa Cricket Association to be named after him.

            The book is neatly written with the quality of the language standing as a salient feature. But the various articles that have been collected in this book could have been edited further to avoid repetition and to maintain the focus on the theme that is the village of Saligão. Many of the traditions, superstitions and habits that are found in Saligão are also found in rest of Goa, such as the traditional games that were played and the way certain festivals are celebrated. Such commonly-occurring traditions and customs should not have been singled out for elaborate treatment.

            In tracing the history of the village and its people, Fr. Nascimento has done a commendable job. But one can’t help but notice some very problematic statements being made in this process. While categorically acknowledging that the legend of Parasurama “is just a myth” Fr. Nascimento when speaking about the migration of non-indigenous people states, “…the attractions of this land subjected it to an influx of various races in the course of human migration, resulting in the establishment of certain social patterns that evolved into a distinct Hindu culture. This civilization prevailed for thousands of years until the late 15^th century when countries in Europe started seeking new lands to colonize or expand trade.” The term “race” is very problematic as the boundaries defining one “race” from another are vague and blurred due to miscegenation. Secondly, Fr. Nascimento sees such migration of people culminating into a distinct Hindu culture. This is not surprising as the colonial and the subsequent nationalist historiography, on which Fr. Nascimento draws quite substantially, has tried to conceptualize a pre-Portuguese past that is Hindu in its conception. But this is not so. Muslim or what is known as Islamicate and other identities have also shaped and influenced the culture of Goa and, sadly, they do not seem to have been included in Fr. Nascimento’s analysis.

            We all know how some Brahmin or “Indo-Aryan” settlers came to Goa in the dim and distant past from north India. Apparently many of them had settled in Saligão. Such families find mention in the book along with their genealogies after conversion to Christianity. These families had displaced the indigenous population. The way such a process is talked about is a matter of concern. Ages ago, the “upper-caste settlers” pushed the indigenous people to the fringes of Saligão and this is but a microcosmic reflection of how in our society today such indigenous or low-caste people are kept on the “fringes” and hence cannot be spoken in such idealized, conflict-free terms. Here’s what Fr. Nascimento says, “When the Indo-Aryan clans arrived in Goa, they took over the agricultural land and neighbourhoods from the indigenous people who were moved to the fringe of the villages. They divided the territory into malos (provinces), and sub-divided the malos into gãos (villages).”

           The Saligão project (if I may call this book) will hopefully inspire many such books focusing on Goan villages produced by the villagers themselves. But rather than the quaint and nostalgic account, we look forward to more critical engagement that would promise to go beyond our ideas of idealized pasts as well as saudades.

Land of the Sal Tree, Stories of the history, legends and traditions of Saligão, a typical Goan village by Fr. Nascimento J. Mascarenhas (Saligão, Goa: Goa 1556), 2012; pp. xix+290, Rs. 350/- [ISBN: 978-93-80739-35-9]

 
(A version of this article appeared on Gomantak Times, dt: June 11, 2012)

LOVE IN TIMES OF DECOLONIZATION

“Gõyank suttka mellunk thoddinch vorsam urlolim. Doxim vattamnim suttke zhuzari chollvolli choloytale. He chollvollintlo ek zhuzari aslo, Zuzart. To bhiyenastanam Purtugezam add zhogoddlo. Sogllo lok tachi toknnay kortale. Tachi toknnay aikonuch Catharina tachea mogant poddlem. Gõychi suttka korunk zhuztanam Zuzartan aplo jiv vompun dilo. Hech karonnank lagon ‘Catharina’ hem sobit nanv ‘Kotrin’ zalem,” [The Liberation of Goa was just round the corner. The Freedom Fighters were taking the movement forward. Amongst the many, Zuzart was one such Freedom Fighter who fought without any fear against the Portuguese. Everybody admired him and this public admiration made Catharina fall madly in love with him. Zuzart became a martyr while fighting for Goa’s freedom. It is due to this reason that a beautiful name like ‘Catharina’ became ‘Kotrin’] thus goes the intriguing and interesting in-flip cover blurb of Willy Goes’ latest Konknni novel in the Roman script. Smartly written, this blurb immediately sucked me right into the kadombori!

            ‘Kotrin’ is set against the background of the Liberation of Goa from the Portuguese and the language agitation to make Konknni the raj bhas of Goa. Kotrin actually is about two women. Though seemingly parallel, eventually they intersect: Catharina, the one who falls madly in love with a freedom fighter, of whom she has only heard about but has never set eyes upon and as a consequence loses her sanity and Venisha, an MA student of psychology who due to chance and academic interest starts investigating and probing the life of Catharina.

            The novel opens with Catharina/Kotrin being in a bad state of mental health where she thinks that she is pregnant with the child of her lover. Being a freedom fighter, Zuzart was being hounded by the Portuguese police and in particular by a tyrant called Agente Monteiro. As fate would have it, in the present times there is also another police inspector called Monteiro, whose daughter is Venisha. Since Kotrin knew that Agente Monteiro was the one who had killed Zuzart, she would curse this present-day ‘Monteiro’ on the streets in a loud voice. Once, during a public function Venisha hear Kotrin’s rants against ‘Monteiro’ and thinks that the woman is actually cursing her own father – Inspector Monteiro! This sets Venisha on a mission to find the truth about this insane lady. 

            Throughout the novel, Venisha is portrayed as comparing and contrasting her own life with that of Kotrin and sometimes their lives overlap. Venisha also comes in contact with Dr. Alvaro, a friend of Kotrin’s family and who also hails from the same village as Kotrin’s. Dr. Alvaro and his wife, whenever possible, try to take care of Kotrin, who by now is wandering the streets and sleeping in parks and bus stands. It is through Dr. Alvaro that Venisha learns about Kotrin: how she became what she became.

            We are told in the novel that Catharina’s infatuation and attraction towards Zuzart was only due to his bravery and dedication to the cause of the Liberation of Goa. Catharina had never seen Zuzart, but had only heard the villagers speak highly of him. Further in the novel we are told that such an obsession of Catharina is due to a childhood habit where she wanted anything that others praised and liked. In an otherwise well written and smoothly flowing novel, the characterization of Catharina should have been improved and elaborated. The reader would have liked an intense psychological portrait of Catharina as to why she behaves in a certain way. Certainly, here was the occasion to introduce a complex character, for it is the mental structure of Catharina that forms the keystone of the novel. That a childhood habit of obstinately wanting whatever others like/praised could lead to insanity is a notion weak in its conception.

            Since the novel is set against the background of such historically significant events like the Liberation of Goa and the language agitation, a few comments on such a genre of novels would not be out of place. It is heartening to see that writers in the Romi script of Konknni are experimenting with such models of narration. Hopefully, it would spawn more such novels. But using real historical events can be tricky. On one hand it gives one scope to comment on events like decolonization, contemporary politics (like in Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children) but on the other hand if the multiple voices of history are not recognized and understood properly, one runs into the risk of repeating anachronistic clichés in history.

            For instance, when Willy Goes talk about freedom fighters and the liberation movement, the idea is that everybody was against the Portuguese colonials. But this is not so. Many were just fighting against the dictatorship of Salazar and not against the Portuguese.

            The novel ends with the death of Kotrin. Venisha’s boyfriend is made to play the part of Zuzart since Kotrin, on her death bed, is longing to see Zuzart and everybody around her believes that she is hanging onto life for her last wish to be fulfilled. Though the death is somewhat dramatic, Willy however succeeds in touching our hearts. The ending of the novel – the way it is written – is expertly handled.

            Willy Goes is certainly a remarkable talent to the Romi Konknni world and doubtlessly, without his novels and other books, the corpus of Konknni literature would have been slightly deficient. An interesting aspect of this novel is the use of many Portuguese words when describing the time before the Liberation of Goa. These words were quite common in our speech a few decades ago and Willy Goes by using such words has produced a beautiful effect in the narration and dialogues.

Kotrin by Willy Goes (Panjim: Dalgado Konknni Akademi), 2012; pp. 135, Rs. 100/-; Phone: 91-0832-2221688

(A version of this article appeared on Gomantak Times, dt: May 22, 2012)

Read the Konkani translation here. 

SCRIPTING A NEW FUTURE: Towards an Inclusive Progress of Konkani

The two-day national seminar organized by Jagotik Konkani Songhotton (Global Konkani Organization) – JKS for short - at Kalaangann, Mangalore last week on ‘Scripts & Languages of Modern India, with Special Reference to Konkani’ brought into sharp focus the issue of nagri hegemony over other Konkani scripts (Roman, Kannada, Malayalam and Perso-Arabic) and the realization that positive political actions would only be forthcoming if the strategies were changed. Held on 10^th and 11^th March, 2012, the seminar was organized to gain from intellectuals and academics while trying to situate the unique problem of Konkani in a wider context of study areas such as linguistics, literature, linguistic politics, power, dominance and justice.

Led by dynamic JKS leaders such as Tomazinho Cardozo (also the president of the Tiatr Academy of Goa) and Eric Ozario (also the Gurukar of the Mangalore-based Mandd Sobhann)  the seminar had an impressive line-up of academics: Mangalore’s very own Dr. Valerian Rodrigues, professor at the Centre of Political Studies, Jawarharlal Nehru University (JNU) was the chairperson while other resource persons included Dr. Anvita Abbi, professor of linguistics, JNU, Dr. Alok Rai, professor of English, Delhi University, Dr. Asha Sarangi, also from JNU, Dr. Pratap Naik, the former director of Thomas Stephens Konknni Kendr and Dr. Madhavi Sardesai, professor of Konkani, Goa University.

            In his signature style of being brief, clear and to-the-point, Eric Ozario made five assertions at the beginning of the seminar. Some of the key elements of these assertions are: a) The issue of ‘dialect’ is directly linked with the issue of ‘script. b) Many a time, while attempting to impose a particular script, what is really sought to be imposed is a particular dialect. c) A firm belief that unity among any people (including Konkani) can be achieved only by respecting all varieties and not by imposing one and destroying other. d) The slogan – ‘ek bhas, ek lipi, ek sahitya, ek samaz…’ smacks of fascism and is very dangerous for the future of Konkani.

Dr. Valerian Rodrigues

             The well-organized and well-attended seminar did prove to give a lot of insights and food for thought. During the discussions, one got the impression that the issue of scripts had caused a lot of hurt and resentment among the Konkanivadis who were not of the nagri camp. Time and again the chicanery of the Official Language Act and the back-stabbing indulged in by the nagri lobby came to the fore. Ironically, nobody from the ‘nagri camp’ attended the seminar. We sent invitations, reminded Eric bab who went one step further and said that there was nothing ‘godly’ about devnagri and that ‘dev’ was only added to give a false sanctification and halo to this script.

            Delivering his keynote address, Dr. Rodrigues said, “Script issue or script controversy is not confined to Konkani alone. It’s a much larger issue. It bedevils several languages and script communities.” Trying to view the script issue through the lenses of power, dominance and policy formation, the political scientist from JNU stated, “The script controversy is deeply mired in political contentions. The Saraswats, Gaud Saraswats and a section of the Catholics have come to believe that their genealogical roots lie at the banks of the Saraswati river in the north. The Sangh Parivar is a major presence in the entire Konkani-speaking belt today, particularly in Goa and Karnataka coast. The devnagri script reinforces a specific kind of dominance…” The script issue should also force us to think about what kind of India we wanted, he stressed, in the sense of a nation-state.

            Dr. Anvita Abbi (Script and Language: Relationship and Contention), amongst others, raised the issue of rendering people illiterate overnight if they were forced to switch from one script to another or an entirely new script was invented. She argued that Brahmi is the progenitor of all the contemporary Indian scripts and hence nagri was better suited to represent the sounds of Konkani. But her argument ultimately appeared to boil down to ‘purity and pollution’ where what is perceived to be Indian is considered ‘pure’ and what is perceived to be foreign is relegated to second-class position.

Dr. Alok Rai

          Dr. Alok Rai (Language, Script and Dominance in India), who used the analogy of the Urdu-Hindi controversy, an area where he has worked extensively and wrote his classic book Hindi Nationalism, asked some pointed questions: what happens when (a) a language and (b) a script dies and (c) What is killed when a script is killed. (Interestingly, in the discussion, Dr. Abbi put forth the view that scripts never die, but are always killed). He also shifted our focus from the factors that are visible for the scripts controversy to the ones that are not, saying that we need to focus on those factors that really drive the movement forward. Similarly, Dr. Asha Sarangi (Language and Territory: Issues of Rights and Identities) argued that along with viewing scripts and languages aiding the production of literature, we should also include the production of knowledge in the sense of social sciences.

            Though Dr. Madhavi Sardesai (The Case for a Single Script for Konkani) could not make it to the seminar for health reasons, her paper was nevertheless read in her absence and discussed. She made four main arguments (as summed up by the chairperson), which were debunked by some of the participants as well as Dr. Pratap Naik who presented the next paper. Dr. Sardesai argued that from the late 19^th century there has been a strong advocacy of the nagri script by stalwarts of Konkani. Such resolutions were passed in the numerous Parishads or Conferences before and after the Liberation of Goa. It was however counter-argued that such conferences were only attended by the nagri lobbyists and those sympathetic to the nagri cause and hence there was no democratic representation. Secondly, Dr. Sardesai felt that since Konkani in nagri could produce books on scientific topics, it was better developed. Frederick Noronha from Goa challenged this assertion saying that the number of such books were not significant and that Konkani – whether in romi or nagri – was not able to produce any original ideas so far.

            Using nagri, Dr. Sardesai further said, would enable Konkani speakers to acquire language skills in other languages that use nagri, such as Marathi and Hindi. If this be true, then why restrict us to nagri alone, why not Kannada and other south Indian scripts? Multiple scripts have also hindered the emergence of literary criticism, asserted Dr. Sardesai. But as Frederick Noronha pointed out, by making such an argument we were only barking up the wrong tree. Literary criticism can happen in any language. Personally I feel, English can be a good option as the issue of script, dialect etc. is circumvented and the required intellectual rigor can also be inculcated in the same.

Dr. (Fr.) Pratap Naik

             Dr. Pratap Naik stuck to the bare facts and debunked myth after myth that the protagonists of one-script-one-language had created and so lovingly tended to all these years. Since Dr. Madhavi Sardesai made a case for a single script for Konkani, Dr. Pratap Naik felt the need to argue otherwise (The Case for Multi-Scripts for Konkani). Using his personal experiences as well as his vast knowledge on matters of Konkani literature and linguistics Dr. Pratap accused the one-script protagonists as “…only interested in…power and money.”

            Though the seminar had no speaker to analyze all the issues mentioned above in a purely historical context and try to theorize about the problems from the archival material and other published material, the seminar nonetheless was a success. There was a tiny bit of detail that I could not overlook during the two-day long seminar. The backdrop on the stage had a vast banner that had Romi, Nagri and Kannada scripts but no Malayalam and Perso-Arabic, thus in a way not giving these scripts the deserved representation. The challenge from here on is to create a discourse that is all inclusive and also to systematically generate arguments that would deconstruct the nagri hegemony over the production of Konkani writings as well as the access to resources that become available to the speakers of a particular language.

(A version of this article appeared on Gomantak Times, dt: March 21, 2012)

CONTRADICTIONS AND DILEMMAS OF THE POST-COLONIAL WORLD

Peter Nazareth, the African writer of Goan origin is well known as a novelist and a literary critic. He has written several essays and book reviews in leading international journals and has also edited a few anthologies. In a Brown Mantle was his first novel. Peter Nazareth was one of the earliest Goan-origin writers from Africa to have written novels in English. This review will focus on his second novel The General is Up. Published by Writers Workshop and hand-bound by Tulamiah Mohiuddeen with cotton handloom sari cloth, the review will try to place his work in a wider post-colonial world with its changing politics, issues of domination, emancipation and alienation and the hopes and aspirations of a diasporic Goan community that seems to be forever on the move.

            The General is Up is set in the fictitious country of Damibia at a time when a despotic military General comes to power with the help of vested Western interests and orders all the East Indians (Indians and Goans) to leave the country by “the next moon”. Peter Nazareth obviously is making an allusion to the real country of Uganda when Idi Amin drove out most of the Indians from that country. One wonders why Peter Nazareth chose to churn out a fictitious country rather than make a direct reference to Uganda itself, especially because a disclaimer to that effect is also issued by the author. Peter Nazareth describes the plight and pathos of the Indian community and most importantly the Goan community facing deportation. Interestingly as one reads the novel, one realizes that although most of the characters face deportation, they have no other country to enter as refugees.

            Much of the novel is unfolds in the Goan club where all Goans come to unwind and enjoy the company of fellow Goans after a hard day of work. Through gossip and political discussions, Peter Nazareth shows how the club becomes a meeting place for a diasporic community as well as a symbol through which a collective identity that is different from the larger society is asserted. The club becomes the nerve center of the political life of the Goan community, because as the times change, a native Damibian is elected the Vice-President of the Goan club setting aside the taboo of racial intermingling.

            David D’Costa, a high profile civil servant, emerges as a protagonist of the novel. But because of the transfer of power from the British to the native Damibian, David has problems in proving his citizenship of Damibia, though in his heart he feels very much like a Damibian citizen. David has to run from pillar to post to secure citizenship for himself, his wife and his children but due to several bureaucratic hurdles and red-tapism in the concerned Damibian ministry, he has to leave the country and migrate to Canada. Apparently, no other country (including India) apart from Canada is ready to accept these new stateless people. Of course, Canada’s generosity is not motivated by a humanitarian spirit but to selfishly gain from the ample pool of efficient and trained civil servants, doctors, lawyers, etc that the crisis in Damibia creates. The whole novel takes place in an environment of suspicion – by the British, Damibian and Indian governments – and as such owning a passport not only means affluence and international mobility but also having a state and a government to protect you.

            We can see the work of Peter Nazareth as a comment (or perhaps even critique) on the effects of colonialism and the consequences of the process of decolonization and also how colonialism in a somewhat modified form is still persisting in “post-colonial” societies. For instance, observe this brief excerpt: “Only a fool, a simple, brutal, childish fool would not have known that the presence of the East Indians in Damibia was part of the game. To imagine that the colonial rulers would be willing to just hand over independence! Hah! After all, their entire economies had been built up out of their empires. No, they were far-sighted. Wherever they went, they brought in a buffer, scapegoat middle-class, usually from another part of the empire. So when Independence came, the people would be made in a thousand ways to blame these foreign scapegoats as the real cause of the continued problems facing the people…When the price of clothing went up, let the people blame the Indian shopkeeper – the people would not know that the European-owned banks had raised the overdraft charges.” (pp. 78-9)

            Though politically most of the world is freed from colonialism, the vested interests of the white Western world still dictate terms to the “underdeveloped” third world. In this regard, I recall the noteworthy essay that Anne McClintock wrote. Titled “The Angel of Progress: Pitfalls of the Term ‘Post-Colonialism”, she argues that for a lot of countries and people there is nothing ‘post’ about the term “Post-Colonialism”. She goes a step further in criticizing the usage of the term itself: “…‘post-colonialism’ is arguably more palatable and less foreign-sounding to sceptical deans than ‘Third World Studies.’ It also has a less accusatory ring than ‘Studies In Neocolonialism,’ say, or ‘Fighting Two Colonialisms.’ It is more global, and less fuddy-duddy, than ‘Commonwealth Studies’,” she notes.

            The book ends in America where one of the characters who had migrated to Canada and then the US ends up leaving the manuscript of his novel about Africa to the person who gave him a lift to New York. The American (ironically a son of a Lebanese immigrant) says that an “exotic” novel about Africa was left behind by the hitchhiker. Though the word exotic is used, there is no elaborate description about the beauty and rawness of the African landscape, a feature abundantly common in the books and colour-saturated films produced by the West about Africa. In admiring nature and beauty we very often forget that humans are the ones who are suffering and secondly, by not describing in detail the African wilds, Peter Nazareth has refused to accept and repeat the same old orientalist clichés about African exotica.

            Peter Nazareth does discuss the racial segregation and feeling of superiority which exist among all the races and tribes of Damibia. One native tribe cannot sit at the same table amicably with another native tribe; similarly Goans considered themselves separate from other Indian communities and the native Africans. How the black Damibian natives react to the racist attitudes of the East Indian community is not really seen in the book, though many of the Goan characters are known to patronize and sleep with black women and prostitutes. Black African characters do not play a major role. This seems to be a drawback as this novel is not exclusively about the Goan/Indian community but about all the population of Damibia. What exactly drives this racism is a question that could have been probed in much detail.

            Another issue that comes up when we talk about the Goan communities in Africa is that of their interaction with caste. Though one of the reasons why people migrated to East Africa was to escape the torture of the caste system, we find that the caste hierarchy in Africa – and particularly in the clubs – was very rigid. To read the suffering and discrimination propagated by caste – and race - can be a good political strategy and force us to ask new questions about the exploitation. Peter does not include caste in his overall narrative and analysis. To be fair, the Goan community had only about a week to leave the country and in such circumstances, an institution like caste may be cast in the background by people in such testing times to forge togetherness and support-systems.

            The novel ends with the General getting assassinated by his rivals and a majority of the East Indian community either migrating to Canada or India. An uneasy void of power is created in the wake of the General’s assassination. But though the novel ends, it seems that the story has just begun for a migration-prone community that has been shifted to another locale by the fateful hand of history.

The General is Up, by Peter Nazareth (Calcutta: Writers Workshop), 1984; pp. 190, Rs. 150

(A version of this article appeared on Gomantak Times, dt: March 16, 2012)

TAMING THE SNAKES

SNAKE! This monosyllabic word has the capacity to send terror and a bolt of electricity down our spines. I am sure all of us, one way or another, have encountered these creepy crawlers. We detest any type of snake – poisonous and non-poisonous – as much as we fear them. But despite our fear, it is said that in Goa everybody has a snake story – whether fictitious or real – to tell. (I remember Venita Coelho once remarking about the same in the Indian Express). As a boy, any news about a snake in the vicinity of where I lived would fill me with fear. (I don’t like to accept it, but they still terrify me…just a bit!).

Rahul Alvares, the author of Free From School, has come out with a collection of stories – or rather reminisces – about his various stories that involve catching and rescuing snakes called The Call of the Snake. “No two snake calls are alike. Some end up funny. Some even end up sad. Almost every call holds a surprise. This is a reason why I am always willing to drop whatever I am doing, get into my jeans and boots, grab the snake stick and the zippered bag – my tools of trade, as it were – and rush out to answer the call. If only people knew that the call of the snake is more irresistible than their anxiety-ridden phone calls, they really wouldn’t have to lie so often,” says Rahul in the Introduction, explaining why he gets so excited in receiving any distressed snake calls.

            Rahul’s stories are told in a humorous, tongue-in-cheek and relaxed manner. Surely he enjoys doing what he does and hence the narration flows very smoothly. It seems that Rahul was not only meant to catch snakes and rescue them but also write about his myriad adventures with the easy flourish of a mature writer. As much as Rahul can easily hop on and off roofs, climb down wells and rummage through heaps of rubble and junk to locate the snakes, he can also sit down and write about them.

            But in writing down his experiences and reminisces, Rahul is also trying to make a case for the protection of snakes and also to allay the unnecessary fears that the generic public have about snakes: “Thanks to the false portrayal of snakes by movie makers – intentionally done to add action and drama to a film – as well as the inexplicable willingness on the part of educated people to deliberately keep themselves in ignorance about these creatures, the public by and large continue to believe that snakes are waiting to attack them, that they are always revengeful and perpetually spoiling for a fight. Nothing is further from the truth. The simple fact is that snakes are cowards and would much rather run away than attack a person, any person, big or small.”

            One chapter is solely dedicated to bust the many myths about snakes that cloud and clutter our minds. In doing so, this book tries to create a discourse about how shabbily we misunderstand these reptiles. For instance, while talking about snake-charmers, Rahul enlightens, “Some snake charmers – to add excitement – have a mongoose at hand as well. The mongoose is the natural enemy of the snake. The animal is made to fight the same cobra at every show. The teeth of the mongoose are broken as well, but the cobra obviously does not know this. All the while it believes that it is about to be attacked by its mortal enemy and therefore remains in an agitated and alert state of self defence. But the cobra has no fangs either. Does this sound charming to anyone at all?”

            However, one of the most amazing and exciting story of all is found in Getting Bitten. Luke, a friend of Rahul, accidently gets bitten by a Russell’s viper (a very poisonous snake). How Rahul and another friend, Aaron run from pillar to post to get the antivenin that is required for healing their poisoned friend makes interesting reading. What is also worth marveling at is the manner in which Rahul, Aaron and even Luke handle the situation during such a time of crisis.

            Rahul’s experience in learning to catch the King cobra also makes interesting reading. King cobra is the largest venomous snake in the world and nowhere in India is the King cobra antivenin produced, so a bite could effectively prove to be fatal. Of course Rahul learnt to catch the King not in India but in Malaysia and Thailand. The thrill, exhilaration and fear that Rahul felt while handling the King for the first time, is beautifully brought out in recounting this memory.

            Mention also needs to be made of the illustrator who has designed the cover as well as provided the lively and colorful sketches to the book. So kudos to Nicky Thomas for a job well done!
           At the end of the book there are appendices of useful information regarding snakes and also some easy-to-take precautions. For instance: How to avoid getting bitten by snakes, how to prevent snakes from entering your house and how to deal with a snake bite. A list of public health centers which stock antivenin is also given along with the contact details of many snake-catchers and protectors across Goa.

            I would like to wrap up this review by reproducing a reassuring quote from Rahul, “Always remember that snake bites give you plenty of time to get to a hospital. And that antivenin can always save your life. More important, Goa’s hospitals and PHCs have enough stocks of the antidote.”

The Call of the Snake: Real life stories by a young snake catcher from Goa, 2^nd edn by Rahul Alvares (Mapusa: Other India Press), 2006; pp. xii + 153, Rs. 125 [ISBN: 81-85569-57-6]

Web:www.otherindiabookstore.com

(A version of this article appeared on Gomantak Times, dt: March 6, 2012)