I dwell in front of this temple.
Tell them to come and take me home”. A high-born
princess reduced to the status of a lowly kitchen maid
and carrying the material symbols of a low-caste Mahar
girl. Made to do her captor’s bidding in all the menial
tasks set before her and yet debarred from actually
living in the hallowed grounds of the temple. What a
wealth of meaning and history in those few lines of
lament!
In another story titled The Girl in
the Straw Hat, a poor girl is on her way from her
wealthy husband’s house to her grandmother’s when she is
accosted by three water nymphs who give her a grain of
rice each. “Throw this grain of rice on your
grandmother’s hut and it will turn into a palace,” says
the forest water nymph. “Throw this grain into your
grandmother’s room and it will be filled with riches,”
says the second water nymph. “Throw this grain of rice
in the kitchen and it will be filled with a hundred
servants,” says the third. What a symbolic illustration
of demonstrating to the young girls of pre-Portuguese
Goa that a good harvest is the only key to a wealthy and
prosperous home.
Supatle hastat, olletil rodtat
says the old proverb in Konkani. “Rice grains in the
winnowing fan laugh; those destined for the pot weep” is
an observation that transcends cultural or political
boundaries and needs no explanation. Kansarachi vatli
nay, partum divun nazo on the other hand is as
regional as a proverb can get. “A daughter-in-law is not
a copper vessel that one can take her back to the
coppersmiths and change her for another” speaks of both
the status of women in Goan society and for the high
regard that most Goans households had for the artisans
and craftsmen of Goa. One could (and perhaps still can)
take a defective vessel back to its manufacturer and get
it exchanged for a good one!
Perhaps the most honoured of all
artisans in Goa are the goldsmiths. The belief that the
metal is a representation of the Sun is itself charming
enough but the belief that the yellow metal has
therapeutic properties begs credibility. In
pre-Portuguese Goa Brahmins, goldsmiths and merchants
were exempted from being flogged even if they had
committed heinous crimes. It is small wonder then that
the goldsmiths of Goa became the butt of jokes in Goan
folklore. Sheth rivna santli kusumna has become
to mean more than the overt “The goldsmith lives in one
village but his umbrella lives in another village”. And
despite the honour and the ridicule accorded to the
village goldsmith, it was not diamonds but simple
jasmine flowers that were a Goan girl’s best friends.
Mardol village in North Goa is supposed to be famed for
its supply of fresh jasmines. In a folk song from this
region the dancer says to her Lord, “I shall buy flowers
in profusion, I shall deck my hair with them. I shall
sit in front of my Lord. Yes, I shall sit.”
The coming of the Portuguese and the
advent of Christianity in Goa did not make a dent in the
Goan predominantly agrarian lifestyle. Goans still
farmed their land, used flowers and fruits in abundance
and sang and danced to changing seasons just as their
ancestors had done before them. And when they embraced
Christianity, instead of abandoning their folklore,
their songs and dances, they adopted the tenets of their
new faith into the time-tested idioms that they had been
handed down through the centuries. So if the dulpod song
and dance routine of the Goan Christian ballrooms
resound with the words, Mari Concessao, Maro
Concessao, Assagao is your village, the best flowers I
shall bring for you, my dear Mari Concessao. These
words are echoes of a distant past. A past filled with
the memories of temple feasts, family weddings, dark
delivery rooms in ancient mansions and jasmines in full
bloom. |
Palolem
