Does it sound mournful? Nay, it is not a funeral announcement. Nor do I wish to put you on notice, like Jim Reeves, that “I am riding to the Rio (or Australia, UK!) where the rest of my life I will spend”. Whatever it is, I remain glued to this once-called “Goa Dourada” now better known as “Goa Machucada”.
It is simply that I am excited: “Due to my contribution to Echocardiography, I have been invited as “Visiting Professor” to the Johns Hopkins Institute, USA, the Mecca of Medicine in the world, where I will be presenting my own experiences and learning from grandmasters, the most advanced techniques in Echocardiography. For a month or so, you may not hear from me. But, by December, God willing and editor permitting, I intend to put pen to paper again.
Now, a few reminiscences about Goa Dourada to pamper the nostalgic chord in me. As an adolescent I was good in my studies and stood among the top until I finished the Lyceum (which coincided with my mother’s tragic premature demise). Then I joined medicine. Although “dotorponn” was not my cup of tea I was cajoled by my father to join the Escola Médica de Goa. At the end of five years I became “dotor”. But in those days we hardly studied. We enjoyed serenading, playing billiards and attending socials. Serenading conjures up thoughts of young men singing or playing for their beloved standing below the window at night. But “serenatas” in days of yore (when the Portuguese tradition was in vogue) encompassed a whole gamut of experiences: romantic strains that rented the air; lovely chords from our guitars; a courageous attempt by a few musically-talented chivalrous youngsters to tell every lady in town (not only their sweethearts) they were lovable, nay adorable. “Serenata” was truly an outpouring of the soul, a toast to femininity, an ode to love, a way of life, in those “sossegado” days of my youth.
It was through constant serenading, I must confess, that I ended up conquering my wife. She was beautiful and had many admirers. We were both shy, but it was through music that the right chord was struck. We have now been married for years and there have been good and sad times too. One of my best days, I remember, came when I stood first in MD Medicine, in the Bombay University in 1972, and dedicated my triumph to my beloved wife (as a reward for the umpteen sacrifices she had made to see me through). There were other glorious days too, like the day when each of our three petals (one lovely boy, Melvin, and two beautiful girls, Elaine and Anabelle) was born. But, beyond doubt, the saddest day of all, our own 9/11, came when we tragically lost our loving son, in the prime of life.
It was in Mumbai, as a post-graduate of the prestigious KEM Hospital, that I really learnt to take studies seriously. Hard work got me the crown of glory. Not that we didn’t have fun. I had the best of friends in the KEM hostel. We used to gather in a room to sing and drink on a rare weekend. Without musical instruments we performed as if we were on the stage. I was the specialist of jazz and Latino, a few specialized in ragas, many in Bollywood music. At the end of the session, my friends would wash my mouth with soap and water and anoint me with perfume so that my wife who resided at home would not smell the alcohol. One thing I learnt from life, “Take it seriously but never, ever underestimate the importance of fun.”
As far as politics was concerned right from early days our parents had inculcated in us revulsion against Salazar’s dictatorship and the anti-Portuguese sentiment – admirers as they were of Gandhi, Nehru and other stalwarts of India’s freedom struggle. Anxiously we looked forward to the day Goa would merge with India, hardly knowing that it would not remain the land of tolerance and harmony we had dreamed of. First, the hundred-and-one turncoats, Catholics and Hindus shaming us with their volte-face. Then, samples of budding Hindu-Christian animosity, leaving a bitter taste in our mouth. Now, the worse is happening, as the RSS and right-wing fanatics, under a protective mantle, menacingly occupy the centre-stage in Goa politricks.
It pains that corruption has made governance a casualty, whether it is the last Congress government or the present BJP government. It almost looks as if they are competing amongst themselves for malgovernance. The present BJP government unabashedly keeps on injecting a dose of polarizing virus. I hate the day when Parrikar, a dyed-in-the-wool RSS, ascended to the throne and Goa never remained the same anymore. I dislike the Portuguese Consulate that does not shell a paisa (unlike Fundaçāo Oriente) to promote Portuguese culture and language, but earns “divisas” “siphoning out” Catholics from Goa which the BJP watches with glee.
But this is just adios and not goodbye. Do shed a few tears if you feel because sorrowing lies our land. Yet let’s all keep in mind that just like every dog has his day, every evil-doer will meet his Waterloo. Au revoir!
(Dr. Francisco Colaço is a seniormost consulting physician, pioneer of Echocardiography in Goa.)
