Posts Tagged ‘goa’

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Goa diaries II – Isle of hope…


2011
08.09

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Posted in Reflections, Uncategorized, goa | 2 Comments »

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Ilha De Rachol (Isle of Rachol)

THE SHENANIGANS of lil’ Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn sprang to mind as we travelled down to the ole’ riverside of Ilha De Rachol, located a stone’s throw away from my native village Raia in Goa.

“In the 1600s, our ancestors who lived here, ran away to escape the plague,” my father shared as we stood on the banks, water gushing furiously.

Overcast skies, leaves quivering in the breeze, a drizzle and a curtain of green – it took my breath away.

gone in 7 minutes...

As a barge sailed across to the other side of the river, I visualised Tom and Finn dunking themselves in the water at any minute.

If they made it to the other dock, they would have reached Shiroda; a trip that takes 30 min by road took around 7 and some, by barge.

greenfields...

My mother shared that, as a child she and her mom, travelled across the river, not on a barge but a tiny boat.

A storm rocked it so badly, and so shaken by fear were they, that they jumped out of the boat before it could reach the shore!

One gets a sense that in this island – a slice of heaven on earth in the monsoons – time has stood still (a positive thing). The real estate sharks wanted to replace these lush green fields with swanky housing societies, until the local folks protested with a vengeance.

And kudos to them.

ancestral home...

As for the ancestors, they pitched their tents here, where this ole’ house stands. Decades ago it was full of life, an ancestral Goan villa in full bloom. A furry brown canine (one of my favourites) would prance  across the maroon tiles in the sala, kids played while a their grandmother indulged them, a sexy looking gramophone belted out records. Now, an ugly wall slices through, and one side remains unoccupied, and perhaps shall be for posterity. The fields in front are no more. A bungalow has sprung up in its place, and another is under construction.

The village is a quiet place, but the local church is the height of activity – novena, followed by a game of housie and homemade Chow Chow. The parish priest is the star of the show, doubling up as both preacher and compere during leisure activities.

We went to the ole’ marketplace, where our grandmother indulged us with bajas from the local mill. Now, there are no bajas. Am not even sure if the mill is still functional. Loads of men sauntered around, some lounging in the local icecream parlour, some inside a bar.

There’s a stillness in the air, as if the winds of change never blew, and development (of the progressive kind) never came. Save for concrete of forgettable character.

This isn’t the Goa people light up about. This is the side where nothing seems to have moved, it reeks of a land in decay. It filled me with nostalgia, a tinge of sadness…

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Why Goans are squealing like pigs


2010
06.28

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Posted in goa, politics | 3 Comments »

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THE invasion of swanky housing projects has been a reality since The Great Depression (perhaps earlier). And now they are taking over the Goan landscape. Here’s a quick 101 on the state of affairs in India’s soon-to-be erstwhile paradise.

On May 17, 100 Goan activists were jailed and subsequently released for peaceful protests against the lack of development in the state. Several days later, PWD minister Churchill Alemao said, at a press con,” Whenever a construction project starts, Goans here start squealing like pigs.”

He was defending the construction of a mega luxury housing project in Carmona. Or rather his concept of development (agriculture and sustainable jobs be damned). According to a report in TOI dated May 26, 600 flats will be built in the small village and this was being vociferously opposed by Goa Bachao Abhiyan, an umbrella NGO for several protesting groups, and the Village Groups of Goa (VGG).

The minister’s audacious remark (not the first by any measure) inspired a symbolic protest by the the VGG; they clothed a pig in finery and paraded it around in the rear of the pick-up truck.

“Since Churchill Alemao called us Goans pigs, he should also tell us who feeds a pig like this? Does the mega construction company feed this pig? Or does Churchill feed it?” VGG spokesperson Zarinha da Cunha demanded to know.

To put things in perspective, Goa is currently “being developed” through a spate of swanky housing projects (a la the ones in Gurgaon and Noida). I do not begrudge corporates for initiating these projects. They are in it for the moolah, and that is what they shall continue doing.

But what is the government doing to regulate the distribution of electricity, water and other amenities between the old houses and the new developments? And where does preservation of the environment, the role of agriculture and creation of sustainable jobs in the state, feature in this development scheme?

My deceased uncle spent a lot of time tending his precious paddy fields courtesy of which we had some quality unpolished rice on our lunch and dinner table. But the cost of labour proved too costly and he eventually gave up.

This is the eventuality in most cases. In fact the government is buying off land from people who can longer afford to till their field (which now lies  idle) and in turn selling it to corporates, when in effect they must be encouraging and helping people to cultivate.

Housing projects and other types of projects, present a nice little opportunity for the politicos to fill their coffers. On one hand they are corrupt, but on the other they are also downright lazy and reticent about creating sustainable development, which needs thought, ideas, creativity, strategies, all things they are ill-equipped for. Of course, dubious intent defeats all purposes, first.

This country is being invaded by housing projects (some claiming to be eco-friendly) at lightening speed, and this will continue. I recall living in one of these swanky housing projects in Noida for eight months in 2009. The reason: they have power backup and it’s a gated community (advisable for single, career women in Noida). What the government of UP cannot provide, this corporate can, but at a ridiculously pretty price. I had to cough up Rs 2,000 per month so that I could sit in an air-conditioned room in the peak of summer. It wasn’t instant power back-up, and the electricity from the back-up took around 30 seconds to activate. My friend Alan who crashed at my house for a bit, once counted the number of powercuts in a day: 20!

2 K was pure maintenance. The electricity bill was extra. I wonder how the average Jo survives with such power shortages, not to mention the hard water that flows through his tap everyday. The latter corrodes your utensils, makes your hair fall and destroys all your clothes. You are ill-advised to drink it lest you want your intestines to be corroded, too.

But now I am digressing.

This international tourist destination is suffocating under the debri of housing projects and illegal constructions being erected dangerously close to the sea. What’s even sadder is that when Goans protest peacefully no one takes notice. But when protests get violent, it sets off a media frenzy and the government announces some knee-jerk measures to remedy the situation.

I hope the Indian media and the international media take notice of this travesty and reports on it with a vengeance, before it is too late. After all Goa still brings back many a found memory for many, as also the prospect of getaway.

But soon memories are all we may have. And some enterprising writer may pen a book or rather a eulogy titled The Goa we all used to know and love.

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100 Goan activists arrested for peaceful protest


2010
05.17

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“When non-violent Indian protests decadent governance, no one notices. when violence reigns, India watches in horror”


On the afternoon of May 17 (Monday),  I received a frantic phonecall from Arjun, a friend and son of Judith, one of the activists who was arrested. According to Arjun, this is what transpired in Goa, right  outside the Secretariat in the capital Panjim:

Approximately 200 people representing various activist groups from across Goa gathered on the Verna Plateau (in Goa) between 10 am and 12 pm, to voice their anguish and misery at the devastation of Goa’s environment, lack of governance and rampant corruption in the state.

After speeches by members of various groups, it was decided that the groups would approach the Chief Minister Digambar Kamat with a list of demands on the very same day ie May 17, since Monday is the official ‘Public Grievance day’.

The group gathered outside the Secretariat, and after some time Chief Minister allowed five representatives to meet with him. He was asked to address the concerns of the people, to which he responded saying that the people had not made an ‘appointment’ with him and that ‘they were not his voters’.

The police then manhandled the delegation and women activists were assaulted in the absence of women police personnel .One woman was pushed over by a police inspector, which resulted in a head injury. The crowd was then arrested and were housed at the Porvorim police station.

The arrested citizens refused bail and were finally released. However, the war against decadent governance in Goa has just begun.

Goan citizens and activists, ready to speak up…


Judith Rebelo: 9970742046
Zarina D’Cunha: 9423313313
Swati Kerkar: 9823670072
Carmen Miranda: 9881281009

UPDATE (June 28)

THE invasion of swanky housing projects has been a reality since The Great Depression (perhaps earlier). And now they are taking over the Goan landscape. Here’s a quick 101 on the state of affairs in India’s soon-to-be erstwhile paradise.

Post jailing and subsequent release of the activists on May 17, PWD minister Churchill Alemao told reporters at a press con,” Whenever a construction project starts, Goans here start squealing like pigs.”

He was defending the construction of a mega luxury housing project in Carmona. Or rather his concept of development (agriculture and sustainable jobs be damned). According to a report in TOI dated May 26, 600 flats will be built in the small village and this was being vociferously opposed by Goa Bachao Abhiyan, an umbrella NGO for several protesting groups, and the Village Groups of Goa (VGG).

The minister’s audacious remark (not the first by any measure) inspired a symbolic protest by the the VGG; they clothed a pig in finery and paraded it around in the rear of the pick-up truck.

“Since Churchill Alemao called us Goans pigs, he should also tell us who feeds a pig like this? Does the mega construction company feed this pig? Or does Churchill feed it?” VGG spokesperson Zarinha da Cunha demanded to know.

To put things in perspective, Goa is currently “being developed” through a spate of swanky housing projects (a la the ones in Gurgaon and Noida). I do not begrudge corporates for initiating these projects. They are in it for the moolah, and that is what they shall continue doing.

But what is the government doing to regulate the distribution of electricity, water and other amenities between the old houses and the new developments? And where does preservation of the environment, the role of agriculture and creation of sustainable jobs in the state, feature in this development scheme?

My deceased uncle spent a lot of time tending his precious paddy fields courtesy of which we had some quality unpolished rice on our lunch and dinner table. But the cost of labour proved too costly and he eventually gave up.

This is the eventuality in most cases. In fact the government is buying off land from people who can longer afford to till their field (which now lies  idle) and in turn selling it to corporates, when in effect they must be encouraging and helping people to cultivate.

Housing projects and other types of projects, present a nice little opportunity for the politicos to fill their coffers. On one hand they are corrupt, but on the other they are also downright lazy and reticent about creating sustainable development, which needs thought, ideas, creativity, strategies, all things they are ill-equipped for. Of course, dubious intent defeats all purposes, first.

This country is being invaded by housing projects (some claiming to be eco-friendly) at lightening speed, and this will continue. I recall living in one of these swanky housing projects in Noida for eight months in 2009. The reason: they have power backup and it’s a gated community (advisable for single, career women in Noida). What the government of UP cannot provide, this corporate can, but at a ridiculously pretty price. I had to cough up Rs 2,000 per month so that I could sit in an air-conditioned room in the peak of summer. It wasn’t instant power back-up, and the electricity from the back-up took around 30 seconds to activate. My friend Alan who crashed at my house for a bit, once counted the number of powercuts in a day: 20!

2 K was pure maintenance. The electricity bill was extra. I wonder how the average Jo survives with such power shortages, not to mention the hard water that flows through his tap everyday. The latter corrodes your utensils, makes your hair fall and destroys all your clothes. You are ill-advised to drink it lest you want your intestines to be corroded, too.

But now I am digressing.

This international tourist destination is suffocating under the debri of housing projects and illegal constructions being erected dangerously close to the sea. What’s even sadder is that when Goans protest peacefully no one takes notice. But when protests get violent, it sets off a media frenzy and the government announces some knee-jerk measures to remedy the situation.

I hope the Indian media and the international media take notice of this travesty and reports on it with a vengeance, before it is too late. After all Goa still brings back many a found memory for many, as also the prospect of getaway.

But soon memories are all we may have. And some enterprising writer may pen a book or rather a eulogy titled The Goa we all used to know and love.

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In Goa: Food, sleep, Ruchika ‘n’ paid news


2009
12.30

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Posted in Reflections, politics | 1 Comment »

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My Goa trip mostly comprised food, sleep, church, food, sleep, playing with Lassie, food, sleep, listening to the waves, food and sleep. But watching a little TV did inspire some reflections on several issues such as where our Indian democracy is headed, paid news, et al.

While the Ruchika case is no doubt gaining media mileage, it’s because her friends and family have persisted with courage and determination, and forced the media to stand up and take notice. The prospect of more pageviews and TRPs is enticing. But on a positive note, the coverage has brought random people together to protest and put pressure on the authorities, which is a good thing. But who knows how many more Ruchikas are out there, whose families and friends are neither affluent nor articulate? What is the media doing about them?

As a part of this tribe, I feel sorry to say that the India media has lost its way. On the one hand, the new-age interpretation of content is a string of words that fill up a part of the page, while the rest is paved with advertisements.  On the other hand, several mainstream media publications and channels are ready to fabricate stories of political glory in exchange for the money. Outlook’s recent cover on ‘paid news’ brought this to light, and opened a can of worms for both politicos, and media houses.

Everyone’s doing it, but some are doing it more unscrupulously than others. So, if we media folks don’t question these practices, pretty soon, it’s just a matter of time before we’ll ALL be writing puff pieces for politicians and corporates.

A very senior editor once confessed to me that he likes his job because a marketing guy is not telling him what to write (no offense meant to marketing folks). Yes, media houses need to make money and pay employees. But paid news isn’t just unethical and offensive; it’s bad strategy.

On a different note, it’s very evident that our politicians and government servants will continue to be lazy, indulgent and corrupt until someone decides to take them to task, and with a vengeance, because the former have obviously sensed that people are trudging along, each fighting their own daily battles, individually. Our expectations from politicians and their ilk have diminished to such a low, that it’s becoming more and more convenient for them to do nothing about anything.

In this day and age, when the channels of communication allow us to video-conference with anyone across the globe, us mere mortals ought to use these tools of communication to expect and demand something better from our politicians, a better quality of life, a green environment, et al. We must not have to strive so damn hard for the bare necessities be it roads, quality public transport, a reliable judicial system, subsidised food prices (which can be afforded by the lowest common denominator), to name a few things.

Unless we take the onus, no one else will.

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A Slice Of Tibet


2009
09.17

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I’m typing this post from an Internet café! I had forgotten the existence of these relics…and the reason I need to use one, is because I am currently on a mini sabbatical at Mcleod Ganj.

I boarded a Himachal Tourism bus at CP, a “deluxe” non-AC Volvo. A voluminous flute of black carbon monoxide sprang out of the bus as the driver turned on the engine, the start of a somewhat tedious bus journey (hated buses). The dust and the metal on Delhi roads consumed my nostrils for the next three or four hours. The road was rocky, but the air suspension in the bus was not completely nonexistent. Sigh of relief.

The bus halted at a resort called ‘Mirchi’ somewhere in the Haryana hinterland, and a joint family of locals kept looking at me with diapproval — single girl seated at a table at 10 pm. I was least bothered, and enjoyed the soup, even though the chef forgot to inject flavour into the recipe. That’s what happens with you order Chinese food in Haryana. 

This morning, I got off the bus and wandered around the streets looking for my hotel, and then decided to have breakfast at Nick’s. It’s a nice, squeaky clean place, and I ordered a a concoction of lemon, honey and ginger. The sun was shining, the trees were glistening, and the tea was comfortaing.

The service at the restaurant and all restaurants, here, is similar: the local folk move at a glacial pace (just like most people in Delhi).

The place reminds me a little of Goa, quaint, yet, a little commercial. Everyone is selling something; massages, trinkets, handbags, food, and Tibetan culture/ history. I felt happy and sad, simultaneously. Cheery, because the conifers are a site to behold and remind me of Christmas. Sad because the local folks seem so dependant on the tourists for their daily bread, those smiles can be pretty deceiving. Yet, it was an eye-opening experience about the history of Tibet, and one can see some very gory sights and documentaries at the Tibetan Museum.

I haven’t yet tasted any momos that take your breath away, like the ones served up by this tiny cart at Lajpatnagar.

A trek to Triund is on the anvil.

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The birth Of Marry Diniz


2009
08.05

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The birth of Marry Diniz

The birth of Marry Diniz

I recently sent mom a bouquet of yellow roses through an online gift delivery service, on her Bday.

The bouquet was accompanied by a personalised message from yours truly.

My mom took a picture of the message and e-mailed it to me.

Hold your breath…I have been christened once again…as ‘Marry’!

Maybe there’s a subtle message in here. Chuckles.

Also, Patience was misspelled as ‘Pation’s’ and Lassie became Lassia. I have since then asked the company to compensate me for this shocking inability to copy two lines of English, correctly.

Mrs Arora from Indiafloristonline.com, I am still waiting!

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Silky Silver BMW


2009
07.09

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My daily commute is sucking every ounce of energy from my being, post my my office relocating to the boondocks, in the middle of nowhere. There’s a swanky IT hub nearby, but a  few kilometres of construction, dust, highway and nothingness, can leave you feeling pretty isolated.

I really want to find more time to write about the things that matter. But I am doing so little writing these days, and whenever I sit down to pen my thoughts, I feel exhausted. Whenever I call up mom, I am yawning. Sometimes she worries. I tease her and insist that she tell me more scandalous stuff – aside from how Goa is sweltering in the heat, how the sewage has overflowed once again, and other such mundane events.

On the bright side, I have just bought my first set of wheels, a second-hand Alto in Silky Silver. It’s not a BMW. But it has power steering, an AC, a stereo with FM and (guess!!) a cassette player! Also, tinted glasses and it’s seen about 21,000 km of road, up to now.

Learning how to drive was my resolution in 2007. Well, two years late is better than never!

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