One who first drew out attention to the importance of Goan proverbs as an essential part of Goan culture and Konkani language was the world-renowned Goan philologist Fr S. R. Dalgado, who after producing his dictionaries and vocabularies of Konkani, had his Florilégio dos Provérbios Concanis published posthumously (Coimbra University Press, 1922), setting them in the historical-cultural context and comparing them with equivalents in other European and Asian languages.
He had planned to include those proverbs in his above mentioned dictionary as we are told on p. xx of its Introduction. Probably to cut short the problems of time and distance, because he was based in Portugal and the dictionary was printed in Bombay, he left those out and were published posthumously by his brother Dr. Gelásio Dalgado, who assisted his brother in Portugal, as doctor and academic collaborator during many years until his death. As a result of diabetes, Fr S.R. Dalgado had both his legs amputated and benefitted from his brother’s medical assistance.
Ironically, S.R. Dalgado is today known better for wrong reasons. An Academy in his name promotes Konkani in Roman script, while Dalgado published his Konkani-Portuguese dictionary in Mumbai (Indu-Prakash Press) in 1893 in Devanagari script. He considered the Devanagari script more apt to express all sounds of Konkani, and provides 10 pages with instructions for correct transliteration in Roman script for those who lack familiarity with the Devanagari script. He warns that otherwise not all sounds will correspond to the spoken Konkani. That is precisely the bane of Konkani, and those who are not familiar with Konkani will never be able to read it correctly.
It is a political stunt that makes even some otherwise bright citizens in Goa to resist the use of Devanagari script. In addition to there as on mentioned above, the early Jesuit and Franciscan missionaries sought to avoid Devanagari in order to isolate the converts from their past cultural links with Hindu literature and surrounding regions from the mainland. It was for similar reason that the native converts to Christianity were discouraged from engaging in trade and commerce which required contact with the hinterland.
It is strange that such a colonial mentality should prevail with regard to Devanagari script till date and the politics of language may continue to harm the prospects of greater participation of the younger generations who learn Hindi and Marathi in the schools using Devanagari script. It is only the old fossils that seem to be left out, but not much can be expected from them for the promotion of Konkani in the post-Liberation phase.
It is again a political game that presents the bhaile (immigrants) as the enemies of Goan language and identity. Most often, the poor immigrants, such as the kanadigas, who make numerical difference (not the Indian elites that settle down in Goa) learn to speak Konkani in less than a year, because they need it to be understood and get jobs. It is the so-called Goans by birth, particularly the Christians, who have replaced Konkani with English with the hopes of migrating, so as to provide better opportunities for their children.
I believe that it is not really the immigrants that threaten the Goan identity, but the so-called niz goenkar who fear the competition of those they despise as bhaile. It should rather be a wake-up call for the sossegado Goans to give up their leisurely ways, considering them as a reflection of better quality of life. The quest for special status may have some good reasons, but perpetuating colonial legacy should not be one of them. Konkani language is the key to Goan identity, and the colonial regime had tried its best to restrain its development.
It is in Konkani sayings and proverbs that we can recall and recover the long term experiences of our ancestors. They contain the snapshots of the past. The new generations need them more than the older generations, but how can they benefit from them if they lose their cultural moorings by losing their grip on Konkani? This is also true of the Portuguese who have saudades (homesickness) of their colonial glories. A team of Portuguese journalists visited Portuguese ex-colonial enclaves in India, including Goa, in 1993-1994. They reported on return to Portugal that they had not found the Portuguese soul in Goa.
My response to them in a conference at the Fundação Oriente in Lisbon was that they were looking for the soul of Goa in archeological ruins or in the living ruins of the rare Portuguese speakers in Goa. They should have looked for that soul in the language of the Goans. It still retains many images, both positive and negative, of the Portuguese presence in Goa. I published a brief study about the Portuguese in Goan folklore, both in Portuguese and in English. Both the versions may be read online by those who may have no access to the printed original versions at http://bit.ly/1Xje7et and at http://bit.ly/1HgmnKG.
I wish I could expand my thoughts on the importance of safeguarding the Goan immaterial cultural heritage encapsulated in the mhonn´neo and opari. I earnestly recommend to the lovers of Konkani and Goan culture to consult the links provided above. I wish to leave here a challenge to the younger generation of researchers of Goan culture to identify the post-Liberation experiences of the Goans in the new Konkani sayings and proverbs.
(Teotonio R. de Souza is the founder-director, Xavier Centre of Historical Research, Goa (1979-1994).
