Without other languages, it’s difficult to get things done in Goa

Ramu entered a dream world that wasn’t as pleasant as he had thought.

This is the time of the year when there are many feats and fairs in different parts of Goem. The saptah just happened and the Ashtami fair mainly in the capital was round the corner. Ramu was looking forward to some good business after no business during the Covid-prone years.

He went to sleep early as he had to go to Goem’s capital to get forms to set up a stall at the Ashtami fair. He soon slept off and entered a dream world that wasn’t as pleasant as he had thought. He set out for Panjim in his dream and reached the road leading up to the Corporation office. 

But he couldn’t enter. The line was longer than that of football fans lining up to watch the finals of the local team in the ISL. People were hassled, angry and in a mood to argue.

But that didn’t make Ramu uncomfortable. He was confused why he didn’t understand a word of what everyone was saying. They were speaking in a different language. 

They all wanted a stall allocated for Saptah that was clear. Ramu walked up to the front of the long queue and tried to figure out how to get in.

Suddenly one person came up to him and said sternly “Sālinalli paḍeyiri”, Sālinalli paḍeyiri . Then everyone in the crowd chanted the same thing, in a chorus which was reaching a crescendo. Thankfully they gesture and asked him to the back of the line. 

Seeing his bewildered look, one of them said in English “Get in line”. That’s what Sālinalli paḍeyiri means. 

In which language asked Ramu. ‘Kannada, I’m surprised you line in Goem and don’t know,” said the helpful man.

He stood there for what seemed like hours and well past his lunchtime. Hungry, and tired he finally reached the desk of the clerk handing out Ashtami stall forms.

‘What is this’ he exclaimed to the clerk. Such a huge line, where is my form, losing his patience. 

Modalu bandavarige modala sēve, said the clerk.

What are you saying? What kind of Konkani is this, asked the exasperated Ramu. 

“Oh sorry”, it means ‘First come first served’ in Kannada. You see, I’ve handed over more than 1000 forms and was replying in Kannada, so those words came out in Kannada automatically. Now take your form and go.

Ramu went back with the form and dialled P Chintamani the wise one and narrated the day’s events.

Chintamani said calmly, “We are a country with different cultures and languages, and all must be respected. Don’t you know our Head Minister likes all to live and work here from across the borders happily?”

Chintamani also told him that he would engage a private language master from him so that he could learn other tongues to be able to communicate and get work done in his home state.

Ramu thanked him profusely.

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