Academicians are very serious human beings. There is no such thing as a simple question. Never. They don’t have lofty degrees for nothing. You ask an academician how he is, he will clear his throat. If it is a female academician, she will also clear her throat. Yes it is a strange phenomenon that could be the subject of a lifelong study. But I digress.
So I met Mr IKuchkamkar in Mapusa market. (The I stands for Imiahpatthy, in case you think I made that up). So we chatted about this and that and I casually asked him ‘what is time’ as I accidentally slipped into casual Goan Pub lingo. “Funny you should ask me that” he said with a wry smile. (I don’t know why he smiles wryly, but he is famous for them). “If you had asked me what the time is, I would have answered you simply.”
I wish I had not dropped my article!
“Time does not exist. We do. And since we are terminal by nature, time can be measured… did you know that the Mesopotamians from the Ancient Greek: μμassasdsjd…” I have developed this ability to leave my body when I lose interest in a conversation…so I did. I went to Baga, saw my dear friend Anthony with a single incisor, and heard about his cataract surgery.. ‘now I can see beautifully men’ he said. “Aarey we’re cutting pig for christening, coming awhat?”” now if we were to consider Einstein’s concept of time and space…” Mr Kuchkamkar was just warming up- so back to my village in Bodiem.
Henrietta the egg laying hen was glaring at Santan’s cat ticking him off in a soft voive. “Stop staring you stinky bulbul eater”. Stinky did not say anything at first, then he spoke in a soft hissing voice, enunciating each word “take care of your eggs at night Henrietta, if you can remember where you leave them.” At that moment Santan poked his head out, shrieking at a band of hooting monkeys. One monkey stopped, examined his armpit and found something of great interest. On second thought he abandoned the treasure he found and decided it was better to run erratically across the roofs.
Meanwhile Mr Kuchkamkar had moved to the shade and asked without warning, “so you get my point?” to which I said “it has its merits, but do go on…”
A quick mental visit to Rahul Braganza and then I would be back hopefully for the conclusion. Rahul brews the best feni in Goa. He is a ferret of a man, with small eyes that glisten like stones. He wipes his nose a lot and wears a pyjama, a Tee and a chunni. “Hey, man, wasssup! “ He was busy pressing caju fruit through a sieve. The stench of fermenting caju will either make you throw up or make you thirsty. It all depends on your spiritual leanings… Back to Mapusa! “We must continue this discussion some other time Sir” and he left walking into a wall, glaring at the wall and moving off in another direction. The moral of the story: Never talk to academicians unless you have an exit strategy like mine!
Cedric Serpes is Associate Professor at the Goa Institute of Management. His professor once told him his family name sounded like a social disease.
