This is the Joy of Giving Week and one’s thoughts automatically go to the Canacona flood victims with their smashed houses and lives. There are many who were so moved by the devastation caused by the flood, the cause of which everyone is still unclear about. Purses and chequebooks came out in a rush and aid in the form of money, food, clothing, building materials and physical help, poured into Canacona.
There was no joy there, not in the giving; not in the receiving. It was just something that had to be done. And the shell-shocked recipients of the help took it mutely; still unable to wrap their minds around the suddenness of the deluge and the havoc it left behind. The crazy rushing waters had swelled the river to five times its depth. It swept everything in its path carrying large uprooted trees as if they were the lightest of twigs. One chunky macho local youth shook his head with remembered horror and said, “I never want to hear the sound of that water again, but I keep hearing it in my sleep.”
Indeed people gave generously. The media got the message out clearly and immediately with lots of photo-ops for all the politicians who rushed in struck an attitude and made wild promises to bring everything back to normal. NSS student volunteers did wonderful work and slowly tattered lives were put together.
Those who contributed generously to the Canacona Relief Fund should be doubly joyful, because they did not just contribute to the people of Canacona. They bought donation coupons of Rs 500 each (cash) and all those coupons, no one knows how much or how many, went in a different direction from Canacona. Some say the amount was Rs 12 lakh, some say it was Rs 22 lakh, there was one news syndicate that calculated it at a whopping Rs 85 lakh.
Which bank account it went into was a mystery, the number of the bank account was a mystery. A record of the bank account is a mystery, but the money is safe we are told. It was collected by the Youth Congress and the Youth Congress dutifully gave it to the Goa Pradesh Congress Committee, completely forgetting it was supposed to go to the desperate people of Canacona.
But as the spokesperson is reported to have said, there was so much aid pouring into Canacona, they did not need any more and that the money was not actually meant for Canacona; it was meant for help in any emergency. They stopped trotting out that line when they were shown a copy of the coupon which clearly mentioned the money collected was for the Canacona relief. Not any old emergency relief. It definitely did not say it was meant for Congress relief.
Should we be angry about this turn of events? Should we say: we’ve been robbed? No. Not at all. Our donations are going to be used by the nation’s oldest political party whose name typically begins with Con. And what a con it was, you have to admire the sheer gall of these people. Their damage control is even funnier.
GPCC President Subhash Shirodkar said except for Rs 20,000 for ‘relief work’ not a paise had been spent. He said they will find out how many Canconkars need help during Ganesh, and Diwali and they will distribute the money then, to needy persons. The Youth Congress will be doing the field work of finding out how many people of Canacona need help. And if there is money left over, why it will be used for other things...!
This is a lesson that should humble us and we have to be abjectly grateful to the Youth Congress and GPCC. They have taught us Life Lesson Number 7. When you give, give for the joy of giving, don’t follow up to check where the money is being used, how much is being used and how much is going into the personal accounts of fat cats.
I have taken a valuable lesson from this contretemps too. I have learned that the only way I can experience the Joy of Giving is to give one tight slap to liars and thieves who steal from the hopeless to feed themselves.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Ya, ya, it’s the papaya to the rescue
This would go down in my imaginary diary as the week my faith in pharma and doctors died. And if you are thinking this is about Dr. Oscar Rebello, you would be wrong. At the risk of sounding like something out of Harry Potter, it’s about the Papaya Leaf and the Platelet Count. Because there are those of you who say, tcha, who’s going to read this rubbish till the end, in brief it is this:
If you or anyone you know has dengue or chikungunya or any illness which drastically reduces the blood platelet count of the patient, take one papaya leaf. It does not interfere with the medication. Wash it in plain water. Discard the stem and the hard central veins in the leaf. Cut the green leafy portion into small pieces and run it through a mixer or pound it to a paste. If it is too dry add a teaspoon of water, pound to a paste, squeeze the paste through a muslin cloth or a tea strainer. You will get about 2 tablespoons of nasty tasting green liquid. Make the patient drink it. I hear having it first thing is the morning is very effective. But those who have had it in the evening too say it works like a dream. The platelet count jumps within 3 hours. That’s the short version.
Herbal medicine in India has been saving lives for thousands of years. Ayurveda is probably as old as the Indus Valley Civilization dating back to 3000 BC. All four Vedas especially the Rig Veda carry references to diseases and their cures through herbs and roots.
The ancient art of Ayurveda was systematically killed by the colonialists when they took over the country. It was suppressed by the British. The East India Company banned and shut down all Ayurvedic colleges in 1833. When Ayurveda re-emerged for almost 100 years, herbal remedies were dismissed as “the poor man’s medicine” practiced in rural areas where western medicine was too expensive or not available. The irony was the country folk were healthier than the urban class.
The Portuguese in Goa actually did shut down Ayurvedic practitioners. The Vaidyas of Hindu Pharmacy were the only Ayurvedic dispensers allowed to practice after one of them saved the life of a Viceroy’s wife.
Only now more and more patients are realising that allopathy or Western Medicine is not just expensive, but has hidden side effects that cause more problems than the original ailment itself.
When the Chikungunya outbreak happened a couple of years ago, The Times of India Mumbai edition carried an article on the effectiveness of the papaya leaf juice cure to completely eliminate the crippling joint pains that kicked in after the fever ended. My brother read the article and was so desperate to try anything to get back to his active life that he experimented with the papaya cure. It worked the same day. He had another two tablespoons the next day and was 100 percent fit.
Later I learned the papaya leaf juice worked for dengue patients too. The common factor was a drastically reduced platelet count in both diseases. Dengue involved internal haemorrhaging too.
Delhi is currently in the grip of a dengue epidemic. The 8-year old son of a friend was laid low with a continuous fever. His blood test showed his platelet count had dropped. She called me to ask about the papaya cure. She drove 25 km to find a papaya leaf. Those in the city had been used up by many who believed in the cure. She bribed her son to swallow the foul tasting juice. He did. The fever subsided the very same evening and he was up and about full of beans.
That’s the long story. The short story is three cheers for the papaya tree. Its fruit is pure heaven to eat and good for diabetics. A slice of the raw fruit gets rid of acne, pimples and scars. It also tenderizes tough meats. Its leaf is a thing of beauty. Sonia of Soto Haus Candolim, who uses plant products for decoration in her lacquered furniture, used a yellowed papaya leaf for a table-top design and covered it with her special brand of lacquer. And then you have the green leaf. What can I say… It saves lives.
If you or anyone you know has dengue or chikungunya or any illness which drastically reduces the blood platelet count of the patient, take one papaya leaf. It does not interfere with the medication. Wash it in plain water. Discard the stem and the hard central veins in the leaf. Cut the green leafy portion into small pieces and run it through a mixer or pound it to a paste. If it is too dry add a teaspoon of water, pound to a paste, squeeze the paste through a muslin cloth or a tea strainer. You will get about 2 tablespoons of nasty tasting green liquid. Make the patient drink it. I hear having it first thing is the morning is very effective. But those who have had it in the evening too say it works like a dream. The platelet count jumps within 3 hours. That’s the short version.
Herbal medicine in India has been saving lives for thousands of years. Ayurveda is probably as old as the Indus Valley Civilization dating back to 3000 BC. All four Vedas especially the Rig Veda carry references to diseases and their cures through herbs and roots.
The ancient art of Ayurveda was systematically killed by the colonialists when they took over the country. It was suppressed by the British. The East India Company banned and shut down all Ayurvedic colleges in 1833. When Ayurveda re-emerged for almost 100 years, herbal remedies were dismissed as “the poor man’s medicine” practiced in rural areas where western medicine was too expensive or not available. The irony was the country folk were healthier than the urban class.
The Portuguese in Goa actually did shut down Ayurvedic practitioners. The Vaidyas of Hindu Pharmacy were the only Ayurvedic dispensers allowed to practice after one of them saved the life of a Viceroy’s wife.
Only now more and more patients are realising that allopathy or Western Medicine is not just expensive, but has hidden side effects that cause more problems than the original ailment itself.
When the Chikungunya outbreak happened a couple of years ago, The Times of India Mumbai edition carried an article on the effectiveness of the papaya leaf juice cure to completely eliminate the crippling joint pains that kicked in after the fever ended. My brother read the article and was so desperate to try anything to get back to his active life that he experimented with the papaya cure. It worked the same day. He had another two tablespoons the next day and was 100 percent fit.
Later I learned the papaya leaf juice worked for dengue patients too. The common factor was a drastically reduced platelet count in both diseases. Dengue involved internal haemorrhaging too.
Delhi is currently in the grip of a dengue epidemic. The 8-year old son of a friend was laid low with a continuous fever. His blood test showed his platelet count had dropped. She called me to ask about the papaya cure. She drove 25 km to find a papaya leaf. Those in the city had been used up by many who believed in the cure. She bribed her son to swallow the foul tasting juice. He did. The fever subsided the very same evening and he was up and about full of beans.
That’s the long story. The short story is three cheers for the papaya tree. Its fruit is pure heaven to eat and good for diabetics. A slice of the raw fruit gets rid of acne, pimples and scars. It also tenderizes tough meats. Its leaf is a thing of beauty. Sonia of Soto Haus Candolim, who uses plant products for decoration in her lacquered furniture, used a yellowed papaya leaf for a table-top design and covered it with her special brand of lacquer. And then you have the green leaf. What can I say… It saves lives.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Why be apologetic about our Portuguese heritage?
It is not as if we set about to grab great-grand ancestors Afonso de Albuquerque and his merry men by the hand and tell them: oh conquer us we are yours. Our ancestors thought Albuquerque and Co were a bunch of nice white-skinned traders who would help them kick the Sultans out of Goa. Of course they thought wrong. How can you blame them? We Goans are wired to think wrong. We did it then, and landed ourselves into such a mess for the next 450 years. We are doing it now. And unless Nature has patience with us we will make wrong choices forever.
We were forced to convert to an alien religion. If we did not our lands were confiscated. We were an agricultural community then mind you, not a government-servant/NRI community. What greater horror could there be than taking our land away from us? Our families were split up. Elder brothers took the family deity and escaped to Ponda to set up temples under the protection of the Raja of Sonda. They kept the family religion alive there. The remaining part of the family converted to Catholicism. Which is why we have not had communal tension between Hindus and Christians because families share both religions.
Traditions like cremation were turned into major crimes and worship of our gods and goddesses were just not allowed. The Mhamai-Kamats still celebrate Ganesh Chaturthi by using a paper drawing of Lord Ganesh rather than immersing a statue. That’s the way they did it then, in secrecy, defiance and deep devotion. Now it is a beautiful family tradition.
Those of us who converted to save our lands and those who converted in order to be gifted confiscated lands learned Latin prayers and parroted them. The previous rulers had no issue with our bare-breasted women and our kashti-clad men. But the Portuguese ruthlessly enforced their European dress code. Cover up or pay the penalty. One of my earliest memories was the village fest where men strolled around in awesome dignity wearing a coat, a tie, a shirt and a kashti with no trousers. And our ancestors thought that the Sultan was a tough customer.
But then again we are Goans and we came through that 450 year period with grace. We took elements from the Portuguese culture and adapted them to our own. If they wanted churches to be built, they used Hindu artisans who must have chuckled that typical Goan high-pitched breathless chuckle of glee, while they carved Hindu religious symbols into the beautiful facades of the Catholic baroque churches.
At the same time the Portuguese brought in chillies and cashews and added new flavours to our traditional Konkan cuisine. It is this which makes Goan cuisine stand out from the rest. Our music developed calypso rhythms with new instruments like the mandolin, the guitar, the banjo and the piano adding magic to the percussion and wind instruments we already had. Our Konkani language took on a Portuguese lilt and Portuguese words too. Our architecture became a thing of fine art.
It was all good. There must have been bad too, but the good outweighed it as can be seen by the multitudes of delighted visitors who come to this state to marvel at our Goan culture. They think this is a foreign land. Foreigners, especially Portuguese, also think Goa is a foreign land.
This makes us in Goa unique and it is this uniqueness we have to protest and nurture. If our elected representatives cannot have the vision to see that we have to carry the past with us if we have to move forward with any grace, then we, you and I have to make sure they learn this one valuable lesson. It’s like recycling. Nothing should go to waste. Unless it is absolutely useless.
So when bodies like Semana de Cultura Portuguesa decide to celebrate the Portuguese aspect of our Goan culture, on August 27 and 29, my request to our freedom fighters is despite the clowns that govern us today, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for giving us freedom from the colonial yoke. But please do not bring out morchas and go on fasts unto death to kill that aspect of what makes us so unique. Let ours be the final victory. We are free. We sent the Portuguese colonialists packing, but we kept the best for ourselves. That is our victory.
We were forced to convert to an alien religion. If we did not our lands were confiscated. We were an agricultural community then mind you, not a government-servant/NRI community. What greater horror could there be than taking our land away from us? Our families were split up. Elder brothers took the family deity and escaped to Ponda to set up temples under the protection of the Raja of Sonda. They kept the family religion alive there. The remaining part of the family converted to Catholicism. Which is why we have not had communal tension between Hindus and Christians because families share both religions.
Traditions like cremation were turned into major crimes and worship of our gods and goddesses were just not allowed. The Mhamai-Kamats still celebrate Ganesh Chaturthi by using a paper drawing of Lord Ganesh rather than immersing a statue. That’s the way they did it then, in secrecy, defiance and deep devotion. Now it is a beautiful family tradition.
Those of us who converted to save our lands and those who converted in order to be gifted confiscated lands learned Latin prayers and parroted them. The previous rulers had no issue with our bare-breasted women and our kashti-clad men. But the Portuguese ruthlessly enforced their European dress code. Cover up or pay the penalty. One of my earliest memories was the village fest where men strolled around in awesome dignity wearing a coat, a tie, a shirt and a kashti with no trousers. And our ancestors thought that the Sultan was a tough customer.
But then again we are Goans and we came through that 450 year period with grace. We took elements from the Portuguese culture and adapted them to our own. If they wanted churches to be built, they used Hindu artisans who must have chuckled that typical Goan high-pitched breathless chuckle of glee, while they carved Hindu religious symbols into the beautiful facades of the Catholic baroque churches.
At the same time the Portuguese brought in chillies and cashews and added new flavours to our traditional Konkan cuisine. It is this which makes Goan cuisine stand out from the rest. Our music developed calypso rhythms with new instruments like the mandolin, the guitar, the banjo and the piano adding magic to the percussion and wind instruments we already had. Our Konkani language took on a Portuguese lilt and Portuguese words too. Our architecture became a thing of fine art.
It was all good. There must have been bad too, but the good outweighed it as can be seen by the multitudes of delighted visitors who come to this state to marvel at our Goan culture. They think this is a foreign land. Foreigners, especially Portuguese, also think Goa is a foreign land.
This makes us in Goa unique and it is this uniqueness we have to protest and nurture. If our elected representatives cannot have the vision to see that we have to carry the past with us if we have to move forward with any grace, then we, you and I have to make sure they learn this one valuable lesson. It’s like recycling. Nothing should go to waste. Unless it is absolutely useless.
So when bodies like Semana de Cultura Portuguesa decide to celebrate the Portuguese aspect of our Goan culture, on August 27 and 29, my request to our freedom fighters is despite the clowns that govern us today, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for giving us freedom from the colonial yoke. But please do not bring out morchas and go on fasts unto death to kill that aspect of what makes us so unique. Let ours be the final victory. We are free. We sent the Portuguese colonialists packing, but we kept the best for ourselves. That is our victory.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Primer for Political Kindergarten
Politics is now a viable career option. Getting into the line is not easy. It’s tough. It starts with social service, social activism, and lots of media coverage. Media is a must. You get onto every talk show. Wangle an interview. Cultivate mediapersons. You have to be in the constant public eye. Then you stand for the small time elections, the panchayat if you are in a village and municipal council if you are in the city. Working for a politician is also good. You get a ringside view for learning the ropes as well as when the time is right – blackmailing your boss. If you’re smart you can buy your way in.
Once you’re in it gets easier with each year you spend in the kodel. If you have to make it a vocation, you’ll die by the roadside, unsung. If you want to be a career politician you have to make sure you keep your seat or give it to your own immediate family. There is so much opportunity to make so much money especially in a state like Goa. It’s as easy as taking candy from a sleeping baby. Goa has a literate but uneducated electorate. The opportunities to amass wealth are legend. But you have only two hands. You need help. So you rope in your children. You get them to take in commissions in dry weather and hand out saplings in wet weather.
You also have to be pragmatic. Think of the future. No matter how much money you stash away in your secret bank accounts, it will still not be enough when you finally throw in the kodel. You have to train your family members like any other entrepreneur. It therefore stands to reason that there should be a special kindergarten for children and grandchildren of politicians.
Which is why I urge the powers that be, to start at least one political balwadi in each constituency. We already have the Bal Congress which is made up of young teens who can barely tear themselves from their sms-ing to address the problems their children will face when they grow up. I am working on the syllabus. I have started with the Alphabet for Baby Politicos.
The Alphabet Primer for Political Kindergarten
A is for the Activist – damn the lot to hell
B is for Black money – and not a soul you’ll tell
C is for commissions – to build your fortunes fast
D is for Development – infrastructure that will not last
E is for Education – for ensuring a dumb electorate
F is for Finance – it’s fun, it’s free and appropriate
for G which stands for Goa ¬– this gravy train of ours
H is only Heaven – since you’re reaching for the stars
I is for Idiots or Indians which means the same thing
J is for Judiciary that thinks – it still is king.
K is for the Kangaroo courts we always set in place
For L which is the Law that we manage to erase
M is for the Money we are duty bound to make
N is for the numbers that come to share the cake
O is for the Opportunists that we are proud to be
P is for the Party, to join or leave – we’re free
Q is for Quality – the BADDEST word there is,
R is for Respect … oh, just give that a miss.
S is for Suspicion, a constant state you’ll be in
‘cause T is for those Traitors who’ll throw you in the bin
U is for Useless, a quality you’ll need
V is for the victory your cash will win for greed
W is for Wealth which is why you’re in this line
X marks the spot we’ll occupy in time
Y is the Yellow of your gold in large amounts
Z is for the zillions in your secret bank accounts.
So children learn your alphabet you really shouldn’t shirk
It so your great-grandchildren will never have to work.
© Bevinda Collaco 2010
Once you’re in it gets easier with each year you spend in the kodel. If you have to make it a vocation, you’ll die by the roadside, unsung. If you want to be a career politician you have to make sure you keep your seat or give it to your own immediate family. There is so much opportunity to make so much money especially in a state like Goa. It’s as easy as taking candy from a sleeping baby. Goa has a literate but uneducated electorate. The opportunities to amass wealth are legend. But you have only two hands. You need help. So you rope in your children. You get them to take in commissions in dry weather and hand out saplings in wet weather.
You also have to be pragmatic. Think of the future. No matter how much money you stash away in your secret bank accounts, it will still not be enough when you finally throw in the kodel. You have to train your family members like any other entrepreneur. It therefore stands to reason that there should be a special kindergarten for children and grandchildren of politicians.
Which is why I urge the powers that be, to start at least one political balwadi in each constituency. We already have the Bal Congress which is made up of young teens who can barely tear themselves from their sms-ing to address the problems their children will face when they grow up. I am working on the syllabus. I have started with the Alphabet for Baby Politicos.
The Alphabet Primer for Political Kindergarten
A is for the Activist – damn the lot to hell
B is for Black money – and not a soul you’ll tell
C is for commissions – to build your fortunes fast
D is for Development – infrastructure that will not last
E is for Education – for ensuring a dumb electorate
F is for Finance – it’s fun, it’s free and appropriate
for G which stands for Goa ¬– this gravy train of ours
H is only Heaven – since you’re reaching for the stars
I is for Idiots or Indians which means the same thing
J is for Judiciary that thinks – it still is king.
K is for the Kangaroo courts we always set in place
For L which is the Law that we manage to erase
M is for the Money we are duty bound to make
N is for the numbers that come to share the cake
O is for the Opportunists that we are proud to be
P is for the Party, to join or leave – we’re free
Q is for Quality – the BADDEST word there is,
R is for Respect … oh, just give that a miss.
S is for Suspicion, a constant state you’ll be in
‘cause T is for those Traitors who’ll throw you in the bin
U is for Useless, a quality you’ll need
V is for the victory your cash will win for greed
W is for Wealth which is why you’re in this line
X marks the spot we’ll occupy in time
Y is the Yellow of your gold in large amounts
Z is for the zillions in your secret bank accounts.
So children learn your alphabet you really shouldn’t shirk
It so your great-grandchildren will never have to work.
© Bevinda Collaco 2010
Monday, August 2, 2010
This is what I want Mr Developer
Developers complain that it has become standard practice for activists to protest against every project that is introduced. Even at one of those talks shows on one of Goa’s news channels, an environmental activist was at a loss for words when a developer asked him what he and his movement actually wanted. They keep saying what they don’t want, the developer complained to the anchor, but they never say what they do want. And taking a cue from that, the anchor asked the activist what it was that he and his people wanted. I waited with bated breath, but nothing clear-cut came through in a jumble of half sentences.
And I thought if I was asked the question I would say that I would like the Goa of the seventies back again. When the roads were clean, the gardens beautiful with bougainvilla and abolim and the houses large … Where we had a clean beaches and quiet fishing villages to the West and lush green hills to the east ... Where everyone had enough and was satisfied with what they had ... Where a woman could wear all her jewellery to the village feast with no fear of it being snatched from her ... Where doors and windows of houses were kept wide open during the day and on hot summer nights too…
But that is not possible so here’s my second choice.
I want a plan. Houses should be built in settlement land and not anywhere else. Goans were self sufficient when it came to food. We had fish, we grew paddy, fruit and vegetables. We had coconuts and cashews which gave us some of the tastiest cuisine in the world and the most potent brews ever. It was scary that when India needed to import sugar, there was a shortage abroad too.
We need to rejuvenate the communidades and plant the fields and tend to the orchards again and throw the Land to the Tiller Act into the dustbin of history. We can have clusters of industrial estates in each taluka on barren land and give them piped water. The main cities can have business districts where corporates set up offices to provide jobs for our urban people.
In order to get good jobs we have to have well qualified and skilled people, so our educational institutions have to be given a major revamp. From nursery levels, teach children to be unafraid of the unknown and give them the tools to learn. Change our syllabus to include subject matter that is relevant today and for the future. Select only the best people for the teaching profession, because they play a crucial part in forming the ethics of the people who will run this state in the next decade.
Government jobs should be reserved only for 50-year-olds who can work till they are 60. The burden will be less on the taxpayer and we’ll have more money for sensible infrastructure.
I want youngsters to avoid government jobs; I want them to start small businesses, which can grow into big ones. I want our engineering, medical and other professional colleges to actively encourage research and enterprise. If we have a River Princess sitting on a sandbank, we should have alert young minds finding solutions to remove her before she does any damage. We should have such seats of learning that the products and services we offer should be the best in the world.
I want an end to corruption. I want every corrupt person to stop cold turkey and do the right thing. I want people to get jobs based on merit, not on how much they can pay or how much influence they have. For that I want a group of 40 wise men and women who take on the business of governance as a challenge and clean out the rot from within. I don’t mind a few gated communities, but I want a proper sewerage system all over settlement areas.
I want the rivers to be desilted regularly so that our rivers live long and healthy. For that to happen I want the mining to be controlled and the forests to be allowed to make large amounts of oxygen for us.
I want the outsiders who have already come to settle here to respect the land and the people. I do not want more outsiders, because we have to think of space for our own children. We have enough migrant labour and if we need more let our engineering students build machines to do those jobs.
I want the police to serve, protect and enforce the law. I want a happy healthy society which is unafraid and ready for a good laugh anytime. And one thing I would not change is our food, music, drama and wit. That has come through undisturbed through the centuries. If our music and arts can do it why can’t the rest of the essence of Goa? Like the ad says: let’s just do it!
And I thought if I was asked the question I would say that I would like the Goa of the seventies back again. When the roads were clean, the gardens beautiful with bougainvilla and abolim and the houses large … Where we had a clean beaches and quiet fishing villages to the West and lush green hills to the east ... Where everyone had enough and was satisfied with what they had ... Where a woman could wear all her jewellery to the village feast with no fear of it being snatched from her ... Where doors and windows of houses were kept wide open during the day and on hot summer nights too…
But that is not possible so here’s my second choice.
I want a plan. Houses should be built in settlement land and not anywhere else. Goans were self sufficient when it came to food. We had fish, we grew paddy, fruit and vegetables. We had coconuts and cashews which gave us some of the tastiest cuisine in the world and the most potent brews ever. It was scary that when India needed to import sugar, there was a shortage abroad too.
We need to rejuvenate the communidades and plant the fields and tend to the orchards again and throw the Land to the Tiller Act into the dustbin of history. We can have clusters of industrial estates in each taluka on barren land and give them piped water. The main cities can have business districts where corporates set up offices to provide jobs for our urban people.
In order to get good jobs we have to have well qualified and skilled people, so our educational institutions have to be given a major revamp. From nursery levels, teach children to be unafraid of the unknown and give them the tools to learn. Change our syllabus to include subject matter that is relevant today and for the future. Select only the best people for the teaching profession, because they play a crucial part in forming the ethics of the people who will run this state in the next decade.
Government jobs should be reserved only for 50-year-olds who can work till they are 60. The burden will be less on the taxpayer and we’ll have more money for sensible infrastructure.
I want youngsters to avoid government jobs; I want them to start small businesses, which can grow into big ones. I want our engineering, medical and other professional colleges to actively encourage research and enterprise. If we have a River Princess sitting on a sandbank, we should have alert young minds finding solutions to remove her before she does any damage. We should have such seats of learning that the products and services we offer should be the best in the world.
I want an end to corruption. I want every corrupt person to stop cold turkey and do the right thing. I want people to get jobs based on merit, not on how much they can pay or how much influence they have. For that I want a group of 40 wise men and women who take on the business of governance as a challenge and clean out the rot from within. I don’t mind a few gated communities, but I want a proper sewerage system all over settlement areas.
I want the rivers to be desilted regularly so that our rivers live long and healthy. For that to happen I want the mining to be controlled and the forests to be allowed to make large amounts of oxygen for us.
I want the outsiders who have already come to settle here to respect the land and the people. I do not want more outsiders, because we have to think of space for our own children. We have enough migrant labour and if we need more let our engineering students build machines to do those jobs.
I want the police to serve, protect and enforce the law. I want a happy healthy society which is unafraid and ready for a good laugh anytime. And one thing I would not change is our food, music, drama and wit. That has come through undisturbed through the centuries. If our music and arts can do it why can’t the rest of the essence of Goa? Like the ad says: let’s just do it!
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Goa is proof that all things don’t end
The T20 League ran and ended. Who remembers who won? The Cricket World Cup always cracks me up because the world, for cricket, is a handful of ex-British colonies minus the US. Well that ran across our TV screens for a while. Then the FIFA World cup took over and ended with Wimbledon running in tandem. We watched Rafael Nadal of Spain take the Wimbledon cup and the Spaniards waltz off with the FIFA World Cup. There seemed to be nothing to watch on TV until of all things – the Goa Monsoon Session Assembly.
It was so much like the FIFA World Cup, two teams locked in a lung-to-lung battle; sometimes the ruling team members got caught up in the precision of the Opposition’s game plan and scored several self goals. They turned against their own Captain when it came to transferring the drugs-cops-politicians nexus to the CBI. Worse, one of their best strikers Dayanand Narvekar grabbed the ball and kept hammering it into the ruling dispensation’s goal, with the Opposition even acknowledging that it took guts on his part.
The ruling team even had two main players missing. One red-carded by the judicial system and the Crime Branch and the other nursing probably a lily-liver in a Mumbai hospital. The ref Pratapsing Rane, mixed it up with the NBA and called a time-out twice.
Goans watching the games had food for thought when MLA Francis D’Souza stated that the government was driving a wedge between North and South Goa. Salcete constituencies he said were getting the entire pie with nothing left over for the rest of the state, just a few crumbs here and there.
MLA after MLA said the same thing that only Salcete is not Goa and Goa is not only Salcete. They said that the wealth of the state has to be equally divided among all constituencies. You cannot spend Rs 15 crore on one constituency in the south and not even Rs 2 crore on another in the north. D’Souza even said that with the exception of Water Resources and Forests Minister Felipe Neri Rodrigues, all other Ministers poured money only into their constituencies. And there was precious little to show for all that money spent. D’Souza said they were breaking the solemn oath they took when they were sworn in as Ministers that they would work for the good of Goa.
And as I would react to a foolish move in the game, I sniggered at Francis D’Souza. If I had a vuvuzela I would have blown it. Did the Ministers even know what they were reading when they took their oath? Do they even know what a solemn oath is? If they are non-matriculates, maybe not even Stds 5, 6 or 7 pass, how the hell are they expected to know what a solemn oath is? Yes I know ‘Hell’ is an oath…
They have stood for elections, bought, bullied and blarneyed their way into office because it’s true. They wanted to work for the people. Of course they wanted to work for people. Their people. Their families and in-laws and maybe a few good friends, never mind if those took the Ratol way out. But they know with just a Std 5 to their name there doesn’t seem to be much of a future for them. They could maybe, be a tailor’s assistant, or a motorcycle pilot, worthy jobs in their own way, but hardly making the big bucks they get with dipping their hands in the taxpayer’s pocket. They have the power to change existing laws; they have the power to make new laws. They have the Midas touch where everything turns into Swiss bank accounts. Why would they even bother about an oath?
But we watch the game being played and realize that indeed this is a very, very strange game. The Opposition wins every round hands down, but when they come out of the House, Goa declares them the losers. Because we the people cheer the ruling party on and turn our pockets inside out saying rob us, destroy us. That’s why we elected you and will always elect you. You are doing a very FINE job!
It was so much like the FIFA World Cup, two teams locked in a lung-to-lung battle; sometimes the ruling team members got caught up in the precision of the Opposition’s game plan and scored several self goals. They turned against their own Captain when it came to transferring the drugs-cops-politicians nexus to the CBI. Worse, one of their best strikers Dayanand Narvekar grabbed the ball and kept hammering it into the ruling dispensation’s goal, with the Opposition even acknowledging that it took guts on his part.
The ruling team even had two main players missing. One red-carded by the judicial system and the Crime Branch and the other nursing probably a lily-liver in a Mumbai hospital. The ref Pratapsing Rane, mixed it up with the NBA and called a time-out twice.
Goans watching the games had food for thought when MLA Francis D’Souza stated that the government was driving a wedge between North and South Goa. Salcete constituencies he said were getting the entire pie with nothing left over for the rest of the state, just a few crumbs here and there.
MLA after MLA said the same thing that only Salcete is not Goa and Goa is not only Salcete. They said that the wealth of the state has to be equally divided among all constituencies. You cannot spend Rs 15 crore on one constituency in the south and not even Rs 2 crore on another in the north. D’Souza even said that with the exception of Water Resources and Forests Minister Felipe Neri Rodrigues, all other Ministers poured money only into their constituencies. And there was precious little to show for all that money spent. D’Souza said they were breaking the solemn oath they took when they were sworn in as Ministers that they would work for the good of Goa.
And as I would react to a foolish move in the game, I sniggered at Francis D’Souza. If I had a vuvuzela I would have blown it. Did the Ministers even know what they were reading when they took their oath? Do they even know what a solemn oath is? If they are non-matriculates, maybe not even Stds 5, 6 or 7 pass, how the hell are they expected to know what a solemn oath is? Yes I know ‘Hell’ is an oath…
They have stood for elections, bought, bullied and blarneyed their way into office because it’s true. They wanted to work for the people. Of course they wanted to work for people. Their people. Their families and in-laws and maybe a few good friends, never mind if those took the Ratol way out. But they know with just a Std 5 to their name there doesn’t seem to be much of a future for them. They could maybe, be a tailor’s assistant, or a motorcycle pilot, worthy jobs in their own way, but hardly making the big bucks they get with dipping their hands in the taxpayer’s pocket. They have the power to change existing laws; they have the power to make new laws. They have the Midas touch where everything turns into Swiss bank accounts. Why would they even bother about an oath?
But we watch the game being played and realize that indeed this is a very, very strange game. The Opposition wins every round hands down, but when they come out of the House, Goa declares them the losers. Because we the people cheer the ruling party on and turn our pockets inside out saying rob us, destroy us. That’s why we elected you and will always elect you. You are doing a very FINE job!
Saturday, June 12, 2010
The Section 304 coincidence
Two cases made national headlines on one day. Both slapped with Section 304 of the Indian Penal Code, which is culpable homicide not amounting to murder. One was due to the mass killing of 20,000 people in Bhopal 26 years ago through corporate negligence at the Union Carbide factory at Bhopal. The other was the death of a young woman in Goa through her romantic association with Mickky Pacheco, a politician with a highly chequered career. One has caused great revulsion across the nation and the other has done the same in Goa.
Section 304 was slapped on Warren Andersen the CEO of Union Carbide 26 years ago and on former Tourism Minister Mickky Pacheco three days ago. Mickky Pacheco used his contacts to fall off the grid and disappear. Warren Andersen used the Government of India to falling off the grid and disappear.
In both cases poisonous chemicals were used to cause death. Mickkys 304 was due a tube of rat poison, followed by death and destruction of evidence. Andersen’s 304 was poisoning with deadly methyl isocyanate gas leaked from the Union Carbide plant and killed over 20,000 people in what is arguably the worst industrial disaster the world has seen. Followed by a government cover up to make the disaster look less like a crime and more an Act of God.
In Mickky’s case, the state government is pulling out all the stops to nail him. In the Bhopal gas tragedy the Madhya Pradesh Chief Minister’s office actually sent a government plane to fly Andersen to New Delhi and then out of the country to the safety of the USA, where his government refused to extradite him to face charges in India. They said he was not responsible, the Indian management was. Yet in the case of the British Petroleum oil leak into the ocean in the Gulf of Mexico, the US government is pinning responsibility on the CEO of the company and demanding compensation amounting to billions of dollars. The Bhopal victims got approximately $500 each and a US spokesperson said these memorable words: “$500 dollars is pretty good for an Indian.”
Andersen was warned that the Bhopal plant had major mistakes in its system. He ignored the warnings. But it is significant that Warren Andersen immediately corrected those same flaws in the factories in the US plant.
In Mickky’s case, the police, the media, the public prosecution and even the court is focused on nailing the culprit. In Andersen’s case the authorities released Andersen on the same day he was arrested and flew him out of Bhopal in a state government plane.
Congress leader Arjun Singh, was Madhya Pradesh’s Chief Minister in 1984, but he refuses to comment on his actions at that time.
Anderson was charged with culpable homicide not amounting to murder, grievous assault and killing and poisoning human beings and animals due to leakage of the MIC gas from the Union Carbide's pesticide plant in Bhopal.
A Bhopal trial court last Monday convicted eight Indian officials of Union Carbide. Anderson was not even mentioned in the judgment. They were sentenced to just 2 years and were given bail almost immediately and escorted out of the court through a back exit. The trial court watered down the case on the instructions of a three-judge bench of the Supreme Court (SC).
All three SC judges are doing very well after that ruling. One became a member of the International Criminal Court at The Hague. One is now a Congress MP and chairman of a commission of Dalit Muslims and Christians and the third shockingly, has been presiding over the Bhopal Memorial Hospital Trust that runs a 350-bed super-specialty hospital. The trust was set up by Union Carbide.
The Rajiv Gandhi government’s zeal to shield Union Carbide from justice as well as from paying proper compensation to the victim’s families is the stuff of legends. It continues till today with the Congress spokesperson Abhishek Singhvi legally representing Dow Chemicals the company that bought Union Carbide. He made sure that a) they cannot be held responsible for the Union Carbide disaster and b) could not be held liable for cleaning up and contamination of the site in Bhopal, as even Union Carbide had not been held liable.
Mickky may get away scot free from his case, while the axe may fall on the family of Nadia Torrado, who may also get away with a slap on the wrist. The end result will just be a feeling of foolishness on the part of the Goan people who actually select people like Mickky to govern the state.
In the case of Bhopal, we will continue to feel anger, revulsion and deep pain as generations of children will be born deformed and cursed from birth due to the criminal negligence of a company that was specifically warned of leaks in the system and impending disaster. Only now, 26 years later, a much more aware media armed with Right to Information, has uncovered the criminal negligence of the government of India itself. Our elected representatives that bent over backwards to protect an American company but turned their back on the deaths or 20,000 innocent people. And they continue to turn their backs on disease and suffering of countless numbers of those unlucky to survive the gas leak at Union Carbide in December of 1984.
Section 304 was slapped on Warren Andersen the CEO of Union Carbide 26 years ago and on former Tourism Minister Mickky Pacheco three days ago. Mickky Pacheco used his contacts to fall off the grid and disappear. Warren Andersen used the Government of India to falling off the grid and disappear.
In both cases poisonous chemicals were used to cause death. Mickkys 304 was due a tube of rat poison, followed by death and destruction of evidence. Andersen’s 304 was poisoning with deadly methyl isocyanate gas leaked from the Union Carbide plant and killed over 20,000 people in what is arguably the worst industrial disaster the world has seen. Followed by a government cover up to make the disaster look less like a crime and more an Act of God.
In Mickky’s case, the state government is pulling out all the stops to nail him. In the Bhopal gas tragedy the Madhya Pradesh Chief Minister’s office actually sent a government plane to fly Andersen to New Delhi and then out of the country to the safety of the USA, where his government refused to extradite him to face charges in India. They said he was not responsible, the Indian management was. Yet in the case of the British Petroleum oil leak into the ocean in the Gulf of Mexico, the US government is pinning responsibility on the CEO of the company and demanding compensation amounting to billions of dollars. The Bhopal victims got approximately $500 each and a US spokesperson said these memorable words: “$500 dollars is pretty good for an Indian.”
Andersen was warned that the Bhopal plant had major mistakes in its system. He ignored the warnings. But it is significant that Warren Andersen immediately corrected those same flaws in the factories in the US plant.
In Mickky’s case, the police, the media, the public prosecution and even the court is focused on nailing the culprit. In Andersen’s case the authorities released Andersen on the same day he was arrested and flew him out of Bhopal in a state government plane.
Congress leader Arjun Singh, was Madhya Pradesh’s Chief Minister in 1984, but he refuses to comment on his actions at that time.
Anderson was charged with culpable homicide not amounting to murder, grievous assault and killing and poisoning human beings and animals due to leakage of the MIC gas from the Union Carbide's pesticide plant in Bhopal.
A Bhopal trial court last Monday convicted eight Indian officials of Union Carbide. Anderson was not even mentioned in the judgment. They were sentenced to just 2 years and were given bail almost immediately and escorted out of the court through a back exit. The trial court watered down the case on the instructions of a three-judge bench of the Supreme Court (SC).
All three SC judges are doing very well after that ruling. One became a member of the International Criminal Court at The Hague. One is now a Congress MP and chairman of a commission of Dalit Muslims and Christians and the third shockingly, has been presiding over the Bhopal Memorial Hospital Trust that runs a 350-bed super-specialty hospital. The trust was set up by Union Carbide.
The Rajiv Gandhi government’s zeal to shield Union Carbide from justice as well as from paying proper compensation to the victim’s families is the stuff of legends. It continues till today with the Congress spokesperson Abhishek Singhvi legally representing Dow Chemicals the company that bought Union Carbide. He made sure that a) they cannot be held responsible for the Union Carbide disaster and b) could not be held liable for cleaning up and contamination of the site in Bhopal, as even Union Carbide had not been held liable.
Mickky may get away scot free from his case, while the axe may fall on the family of Nadia Torrado, who may also get away with a slap on the wrist. The end result will just be a feeling of foolishness on the part of the Goan people who actually select people like Mickky to govern the state.
In the case of Bhopal, we will continue to feel anger, revulsion and deep pain as generations of children will be born deformed and cursed from birth due to the criminal negligence of a company that was specifically warned of leaks in the system and impending disaster. Only now, 26 years later, a much more aware media armed with Right to Information, has uncovered the criminal negligence of the government of India itself. Our elected representatives that bent over backwards to protect an American company but turned their back on the deaths or 20,000 innocent people. And they continue to turn their backs on disease and suffering of countless numbers of those unlucky to survive the gas leak at Union Carbide in December of 1984.
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