Sunday, October 26, 2008

Monserratian Mistakes

Giving the devil his due, let’s presume that Atanasio Monserrate Honorable Minister of Education, Hon’ble Minister of Archives and Archaeology and de-facto head of the Corporation of the City of Panaji, did not send his goons to carve his signature on Advocate Aires Rodrigues with a bonus effort on heritage activist Prajal Sakhardande. Monserrate is a husband, a father, a social worker who has risen to State Cabinet Minister rank with the education of Goa’s future citizens and vital title documents of every piece of property in state in his hands. Even though to all intents and purposes he has only passed his Seventh Class.

Let us presume his son Rohit has been trapped in a situation where his phone has been misused by some creep out to get Rohit in trouble with the law and destroy his reputation for good. Let us presume that Mr and Mrs Monserrate have brought up their children to be good, honest, compassionate, upright citizens they and the world could be proud of.

If this was indeed the case, why did Monserrate not move heaven and high-water to visit Aires and Prajal in hospital the night they were attacked and promise to find their attackers? Why did he not send his vast army of musclemen who locate his debtors with such ease, to scour the length and breadth of the state to hunt for the culprits?

Regarding his son’s alleged all-consuming libido, why did Rohit Monserrate not give himself up to the police to proclaim his innocence? Instead of going into hiding like a common felon? If Rohit has been framed he has to give a list of all who used his cellphone to the investigating agencies. But instead he ran from the law. Mistakes. Too many mistakes. Making bad worse. Or verse as the case may be. Brace yourselves, one feels a poem coming on:

Monserratian Mistakes

His mistakes are many
And really quite heavy
But what can you expect from a man
Who has sneered at what’s right
Sure that only his might
Will keep him from getting the can.

Let us trace then the messes
Made by Babush’s wrong guesses
We’ll start with the last – the assault.
If he really had nothing
To do with the hunting
Of Aires who told him to halt.

He should’ve screamed from the housetops
Giving cash and huge sops
To those who would expose the attackers.
Using all his resources
And formidable forces
Catch the goons along with their backers.

But instead Babush chose
To shut all his doors
And talk of a political vendetta.
‘Why point out at me
There were others you see
Who would chop Aires up with a koita.’

Mistake Number Two
Was one he will rue
When he flatly refused to admit
When faced with the printouts
And deafening shouts
That the lewd messages were sent by Rohit.

He could’ve thrown out the phone
From the Monserrate home
‘The cell phone was lost, yes siree!
Anyone could’ve written such trash
And your heads I will smash
If you quote “the apple don’t fall far from the tree”.’

Mistake Number Three
Was to think he was free
And was above and beyond the law.
He was bound to be copied
By his kids who embody
His genes, his looks and much more.

Mistake Number Four
And there are many more
Too many to write in this ballad.
Whether it’s Chill-Out Café
Or politics unfair
His mistakes are more mixed than a salad.

So if it is a conspiracy
Of state aristocracy
To tarnish your family and you.
Don’t use the judiciary
Or political machinery
Give the law the freedom it’s due.

©Bevinda Collaco 2008

1 comment:

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