Eleicao, Eleicao, Eleicao...

 

Shi, shi, shi…

‘Tea vasinachem padd Podunk, dôn dosi gheilleir pasun munis doent zata.’ ‘Thé Dotor kaim nenhôi, sarke burr’ (Go to hell with the vaccine, even if two doses are taken, a person can fall ill, doctors are dumb)

The people in the village were sunk in gloom and despondency, tired of this evil ‘doenç’ (Covid) that had practically impoverished them; they were tired, very, very tired…

 ‘Amgelea  patkanchi zoti’ ( We are paying for our sins) was the most common reason for the doenç,

‘Chet, thê Chinese loka lagun zallam, mett thêm hatai murhê’ (No way, it is because of the Chinese, they eat whatever they can lay their hands on)

‘Arre amgê Lester temgele marketin ghellolo ani kit rhê, sorop, undir, makod, vinchu passun hatai murhê, padd podunk…’ (Our Lester had once gone to their Markets and would you believe it? Snakes, rats, monkeys, they even eat scorpions) Shi shi…

In fact many were the explanations…

Many were the remedies swapped…

‘Odulsheachim pannam xizleale utkan ani ghorom, ghorom navpachem.’ (If you drop adulsa leaves in boiling water and have warm baths)

‘Arrê, oi, Odulsô mennam…(Yes, but adulsa is difficult to come by…)’

‘Kaim zaina, koddu limbeachim pannachem udok navpachem’ (Never mind, then use Koddu limbu)

Everyone agreed, it was really pleasant to have warm water baths with Adulsa or Koddu Limbo leaves floating in it.

‘Dudhan, hollod ani tikkicho kudko, miriakond’ (A pinch of haldi and a sliver of cinnamon, and a pinch of pepper)) as a preventive, not at all unpleasant…

At night a glass of warm milk with haldi and cinnamon guaranteed a good night’s sleep.

This was the only way to go on…Just move with the flow and don’t ever look back, don’t mourn or you would see the dead ones…Milagres, Tony, Leo, the list was endless…

You couldn’t even go for the funeral, you couldn’t say ‘Adeus’ my friend, relatives and friends were buried unattended, no flowers, no wreaths, no prayers it was terribly sad.

 

Aghô Rosa khoim oita ghô tum?’ (Rosa where are you going?)

‘Ulle roupak…’ (To plant beans…)

‘Ulle roupaku?’ (To plant beans?) everyone echoed in surprise, because just as the Ulle (beans) planting season had begun…Just as the season to plant  beans had started and everyone was looking forward to making some money although the work is back breaking…Torrential rains, a depression here, a cyclone there…

‘Soglem amkam lagota murhê’ (Every depressions and cyclone has to come our way)

Nothing to be harvested, those who ventured to plant onions, got their seedlings ruined and smelly…

Times were horrendous, really bad. The villagers have been stoic would be stoic but this was on a different level…

And then the rains petered out…and…

 

And then one fine day, a sleek, black jeep passed by, bearing some flag and everyone laughed…

‘Eilê hê zodde’…(Here come the monkeys…)

Ó avaz assa niz goykarancho (The voice of true Goans)

O avaz assa Bab Barretocho. Bab Barreton pondra orsam tumchim kamam kellim (This is the voice of Mr. Barretto, Bab Barretto has worked fifteen years for you tirelessly)

Atam, mogall bavandhô ani bhoinino anik ek paut amchea Barreto niurron adhat (Now brothers and sisters once again, vote for the Victory of Bab Barretto)

Bab Barretto dis ani ratt vavurtolló…(Bab Barretto will work day and night for you) He will work 24/7, at your service

Korum tumchim kamam ani amchim kamam’ (To accomplish your tasks as well as ours)

Everyone at the tavern had a good laugh; they had heard the same rhetoric for so many elections…

‘Defector , ordinar, 20 croti gheillole tho konum rhê?’ Independent bhoisola mhure…’(Defector, ordinary creature, the 20 crores? Who had taken 20 crores? Now he is contesting as an Independent)

‘Arrê 20 croti purni…?’ (Aren’t 20 crores enough)

A break from the life of doenç and the rain…

Young people roaming from door to door, what could it be? Heavy boxes full of goodies and pleasant, pretty girls and boys saying, ‘Amkam Vot gallat’ (Vote for us)

‘Tumi khônu? (And who are you?) Big broad smiles, ‘Amim Fullanchi party.’(We are the Flowers party)

‘Youthaghelli party, amghem choddum thenghelli offisan ass rhê…explained one of the men (This is a party for Youth, my daughter works in their office)

Tesh zalear tum fulam party vot gatollo? (That means you will vote for the Flower  Party?)

‘Anv Youth dissota tuka?’ (Do I look like Youth to you?)

‘Tenghem kesso cantar ass mhure, sarkem tea baxin. Tania de Benaulim mhure…’ (They have a great song, top of the world song, sung by Tania de Benaulim)

And just then the jeep went by with Tania de Benaulim belting, ‘Rico, bab Rico, tum fuddar goinkarancho…’ (Rico Bab, Rico, you are the future of the Goans) It truly was an enthralling song.

Soon after people were besieged by the candidate’s visits, begging, pleading, cajoling. ‘Amkam vot gallat’ (Vote for us)

This was the time to wash very dirty linen out in the open…

‘Where were you during the Lockdown? My wife and Mother and two daughters were alone. Did you offer to help them?

A small timid no from the candidate, almost a whisper…

‘What did you do with the 20 crores?’

The brave Independent shouted, ‘Who said I got 20 crores?’ ‘Were you there?’

Shamefaced voter…

But it was the erstwhile candidate that had everyone’s heart aflutter… waiting for him with bated breath. The return of the Prodigal?

His friends were few and close to his chest. Not for him the hoi polloi of the middle class…the masses tired him. Relax he did but with a chosen few, all his ‘primos’(cousins). But rumor had it that the candidate was looking real good, suave and polished.

Everyone dug out his attributes from the musty box of memories.

‘Kitu nokriyo dillea rhê tennem’ (He has given so many jobs)

‘Sangotta!’ (Telling me!)

‘Kes, kesso kamam ten khelleia rhê’(How many jobs he has accomplished)

‘Sangotta!’ (Telling me!)

But nobody got to see him, everyone deprived of some happy banter… sadly the candidate decided he was too busy wooing the remote parts of his constituency, the callow substitute… well…

It was particularly sad to see, an unshaven dusty candidate, sweating profusely, so harassed and tired practically collapsing on their door steps late in the evening, no one had the heart to ask such a tired man anything…

‘They said yes, yes we need a change…Sadly he did not fit with a clean India, movement.

It was the perky song by Tanya de Benaulim extolling the ‘Candidate of the Flowers’, that started the very nice trend, everyone then jumped onto the bandwagon…

The villages were assailed by songs…Every single candidate had his own song, everyone enjoyed them and every song was really very good…

The village took on the air of a Carnival. Gay songs everywhere, many times the vehicles of two rival gangs proceeding on the same route met each other, there was no acrimony, the drivers smiled at each other, perked the volumes of the songs way up…

The Party had just begun…

 What a lovely time was to be had, meetings here, meetings there and everywhere. Money and Whisky flowing. Everyone collected as much as they could…And why not?

But it was Miguel who stole the show…Miguel was the person who collected jungle fruits and herbs during the monsoons, during the festival of Ganesh, Miguel had orders from far and wide… People came to his door for wild fruits and herbs for the mattoli…

Miguel climbed tall mango trees for wild mangoes, just the right ones for delicious, very spicy pickles.

Miguel did everything…and was terribly good at his profession too.

His clients waited for days… years for Miguel to complete their work. Sigh!

‘Tek rabpak podda, teghem kam sarkem tea baxin…’ (You have to wait for him, his work is the ultimate) Was it worth it? They thought it was…

Now Miguel planned for this once in a five years opportunity…He enlisted his wife Petul’s help.

Petul, we will work as team, if Bab Barreto has a meeting in Murida you go, it is close by… If Suave man has a meeting in Pokol I will go.

Let us divide our work and even if we earn the same at the end of the day, there might be some perks, a biryani, a 1 litre bottle of cold drink or if lucky sorea batli.(A liquor bottle)

 The duo worked well and tirelessly, amassing quite a bit. Money was flowing everywhere, gushing you could say…

And then fortune struck or quoting ‘Fortune favours the Brave.’

Petul and Miguel got to know that Flower Party was distributing heavy boxes of foods. A plan was drawn…

On the fateful day, the gay young flower people approached Petul’s and Miguel’s house, where a broadly smiling Petul awaited them.

The girl said, ‘Aunty hem, tumkan…’ (Aunty this is for you) hoisting a heavy box.

‘Aghô baie thank you. Kit pitolimm?’(Thank you my dear. Will you have something to drink?)

‘Kaim naka’ (No, we will not) a boy handed over another packet containing a beautiful shawl and two caps for Uncle.

At the bottom of the hill lived Petul’s Mother who was too tired to even bother about packages.

‘O gharan, O gharan’ (Anyone at home?)

Konnu ghô?’ (Oh! Who is there?)

‘Aghô amgem bai Shirley. ‘(Oh! Our dear Shirley)

‘Uncle maim na?’ (Uncle is the elderly lady not there?)

‘Bedacher niddloli ha. Apoichi?’ (She is is sleeping…Shall I get her?)

‘Naka, naka… hem Maimkodde di’ (No, no…Give this to Maim)

‘Borem…’ (Of course) a shawl and two caps not to forget the box of food…

Hardly had the girls and boys departed, Miguel sat on his Activa and zoomed to his Maxean’s (Mother’s sister) place, in another Ward with a different set of people…

‘Oh gharan, konu nan kit rhê?’(Halo, is anyone at home?)

‘Aghô anv ass mughô…(Oh! I am here) said a smiling Miguel’

Now an astute girl who belonged to the Ward said…

‘Arê Uncle, Maim Bombay ghello nam?’(Uncle hasn’t Aunty gone to Mumbai?)

Miguel not batting an eyelid.

‘Ha, Ha eili, matxem doctoragher gellea’(Ha, ha, she has returned, she has just now gone to the Doctor)

A swift discussion and everyone agreed that the box could be kept with Miguel Uncle.

This time Miguel waited for a good fifteen minutes, no use in hurrying and giving the game away.

Yes, Maxean was still in Bombay, her daughter had delivered a baby boy.

Miguel walked around and took a good look at the guava trees, Boy were they laden with fruit, ripe, plump globes of delicious flesh.

Better collect all of them before the greedy bakar pounced on them. The bakar just loved these guavas.

Miguel got hold of a plastic bag, swung onto the nearest branch and in no time had two bags full of plump ripe guavas.

Petul made the most delicious geleia, a jam taught to her by Rosbai, how Miguel loved that jam on a hot chappati with his tea, watching the monsoon.

So when he at last landed home with the heavy package as well as the guavas, Petul was overjoyed…

Now to organize the contents of the food packets, they had collected...

‘Sakor, tin paketam, Miguel tuk diabetis ass murhê? (Three packets of sugar, Miguel you have diabetis)

‘Aghô tuk nam mhugo? Ani tim peranchem, Rosbaieghellem geleia? (You do not have diabetis do you? And what about the Rosbai geleia)

Petul agreed, the sugar could be used for the geleia, to be eaten in the Monsoon with a hot chappati and rains beating on their roof.

There was no dispute about the oil; they were keeping all the three packets. Frying fish did require quite a bit of oil.

Saiba, choi rhê Miguel, tin ghee packets. (Look at this Miguel, three packets of vanaspati)

‘Oi mughô’, (Yes) there would be delicious chappaties.

What could they do with three packets of Rawa and three packets of maida?

Miguel relaxing on the balcão soppó said let us sell them…’ At that moment Petul fell in love with Miguel for the thousandth time…

He would sell everything to the migrants at a tiny reduced rate…

From the kitchen she heard him…

‘Shivram idhar au rhe, tumko rulao mangta rhê? (Shivram come here, do you want to buy semolina and maida at reduced rates?)