08 Dec 2021  |   05:48am IST

Stories through song - Connecting generations

The second volume of Heta Pandit’s well researched book, Grinding Stories Retold: Songs from Goa, is an updated version of her earlier one that takes readers through a fascinating journey in Goa’s tradition of oral history in the form of ‘oviyos’ or songs sung at the grinding stone. Interestingly, this tradition was followed by both the Hindu and Christian community and passed down by women from one generation to the next. Giving us a glimpse into the lives of these women and the shared sense of despair and hope, the book is a remarkable documentation of Goa’s subculture that otherwise stood forgotten in the anals of history
Stories through song - Connecting generations

Deepa George

“Oviyos sung in Konkani and Marathi are part of Goan sub culture that is fast fading into oblivion,” says Heta Pandit. For Goa, a pin head of a state on the map of western India, the cultural connotation has always been one of fish, feni, beaches and a libertine ‘Western’ culture that is grossly misleading. As an author and founder member of Goa Heritage Action Group, Heta’s work is emblematic of her mission to preserve, conserve and amplify the various aspects of Goa’s cultural heritage.

While patriarchy is a recurring social construct that women have been battling for centuries, Heta’s book highlights the absolute isolation and despair of a girl married at a young age and having to come to terms with a new home with no familiar people or friends. Giving us a sense of release that these songs held for women of that time, Heta explains, “Songs and dances; folk expressions are actually always translations of work and family experiences. This is true for all cultures and subcultures. There is a subtext in each one of these songs and stories.” She continues, “Why did they sing at the grinding stone? They were not allowed to touch percussion instruments! So, they devised a clever way of using utensils and stones within their universe of control. They turned the kneading trough, the dhavole, over and used the back as a percussion to their song, to express frustration, sorrow and suppression.”

Giving us a feminist perspective, she adds, “When a woman or child bride is given impossible chores all day, has no one at the marital home that she can call a friend, she can only depend on her one friend in the whole world - the grinding stone that she has brought with her from her maternal home. “This is the only friend I had,” one of the storytellers says. What can be a more poignant statement than that?” It is also worth noting that not all these monophonic songs were sad. Some also recounted mythologies, ballads of bravery and even wedding songs.

And if we thought women of the Christian community were bereft of this institutional folklore, it is revealing to note the contrary. In fact, the book tells us that despite the ban on the singing of oviyos by the Portuguese, the converts would often call their Hindu neighbours to sing at festivities. Adding an interesting facet, Heta says, “Dr Jayanti Naik of the Goa Konkan Academy is quite clear on this issue. She tells us that the cantar in Goan (via Bombay) tiatr is actually a variant of the oviyo. It is a subject I have not studied although it fascinates me,”

This revelation perhaps was the moot point in revisiting the earlier version of the book. “When I met Dr Carlos Fernandes, Curator of the Central Library, with the earlier version of this book, he asked me if I knew that the Christian Gavdas from Quepem also sang oviyos. I was totally taken aback! I thought that after the (Portuguese government) ban on singing in Konkani, all Christian oral history in Konkani had disappeared from Goa. Amelia Dias and her group of Avedem village sisters keep this tradition alive. Dr Carlos sent one of his librarians, Anuja Naik with me and with her help, I was able to collect the songs. Of course, the storytellers themselves, though not literate, are worldly wise. They know the value of documentation of recording oral history - their history. They were most forthcoming,” discloses Heta.

While this mammoth research exercise seems a herculean effort, Heta balances this recognition lightly and is all praise for her fellow collaborators. “The exercise was only difficult during the lockdown because the pandemic when moving around was restricted. Otherwise, our task was made easy thanks to the assistance of Anuja and Kirti Naik and Shubhada Chari. It was also very important to not just do a translation but also do an interpretation. After all, this is one aspect of Goan culture that not many people know about and it was our duty to tell the world that there is more to Goa than just beaches and churches!”

While these songs emanate from a Goan ethos, this tradition is also prevalent all over the west coast of the subcontinent. “Songs are sung at the grinding stone in Pakistan, Sind, Punjab, Rajasthan, Gujarat, Maharashtra and Goa, Karnataka and Tamilnadu,” she shares. “There’s a whole generation of storytellers and oral history simply waiting to be discovered,” she adds perceptibly. “It’s a huge task and only an institution can take it up. Some of us have just opened a tiny furrow, a pathway. Having said that, every individual state or region has its own genre of this music. In Goa, for example, in the Valpoi and Sattari regions, the songs are filled with sorrow, isolation, lamentation and loneliness. In Quepem, the songs are sung at weddings and celebrations. Some are bits of earthy advice, some are warnings in how to toe the line of ethics. It is a vast canvas, a full repertoire,” she concludes.

For a subject chronicling the past, Heta has also managed to introduce a twist of modern technology in making this past accessible through the use of QR codes in the book that links to a YouTube rendition of the songs. “All the credit for this “first time in India’’ goes to my designer and long-time friend Dr Nina Sabnani and her team. She was frustrated about the fact that we couldn’t get our readers to actually see and listen to the original songs. Through this concept, we were able to harness new technology to enhance the stories from the past! The YouTube link allows readers to experience the song. You can actually see the storytellers in their own homes, in their kitchens or ante-rooms, surrounded by the everyday things they love and handle, their pots and pans, their favourite mats,” she adds with a smile.

For someone who has been the ostensible ‘outsider’ relentlessly working and contributing towards the conservation of Goa’s cultural heritage, Heta has wise words to put to rest the eternal insider- outsider conundrum by saying, “Goa is a land that has so much wealth in terms of nature, culture, history and human ethnicity. Some of us are making a contribution to this beautiful land and its people through this kind of documentation. We’re adding, enhancing, trying to restore what is lost, drawing the attention of the world to this vast and deep cultural wealth. Two, we are all children of a global village now. For us - all of us, it is a duty to do something, give something back to the land we’re living in, at a micro level to make a difference at a macro level.”

With the pervading sentiment of a sense of cultural and image loss with the incessant chipping of the state’s identity, Heta thoughtfully adds, “There are people working in the field of agriculture, permaculture, environment, wildlife, architecture, history, intangible and tangible fields... we have to chip in and help mitigate the effects of this chipping away of the Goan cultural identity. Goa may not have been my janmboomi but it is most certainly my karmbhoomi. This land just keeps on giving and giving and giving. Our Mother Goa can absorb any number of children from around the world in her embrace. And, like any mother, she will also correct the children who hurt her, harm her or misbehave!”

While these songs from Goa may remain with only a few women in rural Goa, one wonders if they will stand the test of time. Yet, for all of us who may forget, this is the book that holds these songs forever in its embrace.

IDhar UDHAR

Idhar Udhar