On a song and a prayer

The Monte festival that starts this weekend promises to be a cultural feast

Nigel Britto

It's that time of the year again when people make their way to a forgotten chapel on a hill for an annual pilgrimage they eagerly look forward to, arriving at one of Goa's most spectacular locations, Our Lady of Monte Chapel in Old Goa (Monte meaning hill in Portuguese).

Built by Portuguese conqueror Afonso de Albuquerque in the 1500s, the chapel is set against a breathtaking view of the Chorao and Divar islands on the Mandovi river. This picturesque place provides the perfect ambience for a three-day series of concerts that begin at dusk. Artists from all over the country come together to celebrate heritage and music in this quaint and rather off-the-touristy-circuit destination. The event marks the forgotten love affair between India and Portugal. Colonial romances are reminisced and shared histories relived.

From Portuguese choirs to Kuchipudi dancers to Indian sopranos, the festival, since its inception in 2002, has had all kinds of performances for the discerning spectator. Artists dressed in formal attires offer a glimpse to the audience about their history and culture.

The Monte Music Festival 2010 kicks off this weekend and is scheduled to run till Sunday. It wouldn't be a bad idea to be there.

Yvonne Rebello, who has coordinated the festival for the past eight years as part of Fundacao Oriente, a Portuguese organisation aimed at promoting cultural and artistic ties between Portugal and Asia, says, "It all started when the government approached us to renovate the chapel in 1999, which was then in a dilapidated condition." Since then, Rebello adds, the event has grown and attracts art aficionados from various parts of the country. A panel at the institute chooses the western music performers , while Anju Timblo, a Goa-based industrialist in whose hotel the performers are housed, selects the Indian performers.

For historical reasons, Fundacao Oriente is located in Goa, housed in an old Indo-Portuguese building in Panaji's most traditional neighbourhood. The building was purchased specifically for the purpose.

Since Fundacao Oriente used its funds to renovate it, Sergio Mascarenhas, the organisation's then-director , suggested having an annual festival there to celebrate heritage and music . Successive directors have ensured the festival has gone from being a mere 'experiment' to a 'global brand' . "There are lots of people who plan their vacations in Goa to coincide with our festival," Rebello says proudly.

Moreover, the bumpy ride to the chapel doesn't deter music lovers from flocking to this much-awaited event. One even has to leave his/her vehicle at the foot of the hill, and take a rickety shuttle up the serpentine roads. But that just makes the whole trip deliciously old-world .

At the venue, a makeshift platform serves as a stage for the performers while the fading Goan sun forms a magnificent backdrop. Acoustically, too, the setting is perfect. "In the past, Indian performers were apprehensive about the backdrop and setting; they were used to auditoriums with perfect sound and light synchronisation. But having performed here once, artists now believe that this experience is unlike any other," says Rebello.

But what's making organisers of the festival happier than anything else is the mix of crowds the event is attracting. There are the raucous college goers with their flashing mobile phone cameras -despite requests not to use them - and middle-aged and elderly quietly looking out for the best seats. In fact, it isn't unusual to see grandfathers and grandmothers being helped up the narrow winding staircase by their doting grandkids.

The focus of the festival is not only on international cultural bonding, but on retaining the local flavour. "We see to it that good Goan musicians get exposure," says Rebello. And this year, London-based mezzo-soprano Viola Da Cunha will join tabla player Amit Bhonsle, sitar exponent Chhote Rahimat Khan, the Goa State Symphony Orchestra and the Sta Cecilia choir of the famed Rachol Seminary to form the Goan contingent at the festival. They will make music with the likes of Portuguese guitarist Manuel Leao, Romanian pianist Delia Varga and Delhi-based Kuchipudi dancer Shallu Jindal , who is MP Naveen Jindal's wife.

Even in a music loving place like Goa, it's rare to see classical forms of music holding such sway and prominence at a public festival. In a world which seems to have left behind classical and folk genres, it serves as a refreshing change to spend three days at the festival in the 'rave capital of India' .

As a bonus, most of Goa's popular beaches—Calangute, Baga, Miramar, Anjuna—are all within half-an-hour's drive from the centrally-located chapel. And the fact that it's off-season means costs are low, the crowds are absent and tranquillity is guaranteed. Rejuvenation of the soul has never been so easy. For one weekend of solitude, scenery and songs, head to Old Goa.

This article was first published on the Times of India's Crest edition dated February 5, 2010

In Stalingrad, Lennon Rules

This long-haired activist gives fascists short shrift

Nigel Britto


His address is as impossible as his mission. To meet Stalin K, you have to tramp through a small jungle and huff up several steep steps to reach his den on an invisible hill, off the beach sprawl of Baga in Goa. From this tranquil coastal redoubt, the man who shall not be surnamed—he shed it twenty years ago because it was a marker of caste — wages a peaceful war for a more equitable society by making documentaries on inconvenient truths like caste and communalism. 

The 41-year-old activist’s long, untidy hair is that of a sadhu but his swagger would do Sir Vivian Richards proud. He may be from Gujarat, but the mere mention of Narendra Modi transforms the sage into a Viking. “He’s a dictator,” he proclaims scathingly. “He stands for the opposite of everything that I believe are democratic values.” It was Stalin’s documentary, A Work in Progress, an unambiguous indictment of Modi’s role in the 2002 Gujarat carnage, that was used by the UNHRC in its investigation into the pogrom.

Stalin’s engagement with the politics of the marginalised has its roots in his childhood. “I found it natural to empathise with the poor because I was one of them,” he says. His father was a playwright who didn’t make too much money and who wasn’t overly bothered about providing for the family. “We were not starving, but not affluent either,” says Stalin. “Everything was rationed in our house.”

This empathy translated into action in 1984, when a killer gas leaked out from the Union Carbide plant in Bhopal in one of the worst industrial crimes in history. The 16-year-old Stalin used ‘a sports tournament in Nagpur’ as an excuse to his family to sneak to Bhopal, but once there, he returned home to Ahmedabad in two days flat. “It was chaotic and traumatic,” he says. “I couldn’t handle it.”

Since his Bhopal trip was such a secret, the young boy couldn’t share the horror with his family. All he could do to vent his outrage was paint drops of blood on the black cat on the Eveready battery made by Union Carbide. But it was the rage and confusion that bubbled inside that helped shape the sensibility that has made him such a formidable public warrior today. It was a toxic baptism

indeed.

In any case, his childhood was not an easy one. When he was three, his parents decided to split, and his mother had to slog in a factory until she got a job at ISRO. He says his Soviet name is the only thing his communist father gave him, hence he decided to stick with it. He grew up reading Dostoevsky and Trotsky (subsidized Russian literature was cheaper than Sidney Sheldon) and got quite used to being mistaken for a Christian. Although not a card-carrying comrade, he found the communist ideology ‘interesting’ and often gave up college camping trips to join tribals protesting atrocities against them. “Till today, I’m more comfortable with tribals,” he says, “be it those from the Narmada valley or the Eastern Shoshonis and Northern Arapohes of Wyoming. Their idea that the earth owns you, not vice versa, resonates deeply with me.”

The other tribe that he enjoys spending time with is the young. Whether it is lecturing at some of the top schools in the world such as Harvard, Yale and IIM-A or replying to messages on Facebook, where 800 of his 1,200 friends are students, working with the young and still idealistic reaffirms his belief that like John Lennon, he may be a dreamer, but he’s not the only one.

But since ‘fictional romanticism’ had little appeal, he decided to do something concrete. Soon after college, he founded a non-profit organization called Drishti to use media as a tool to campaign for human rights. “It was in 1991, the year which saw the expansion of media from one TV channel to four,” he says. “Later, I realised that for most of the country, drinking water was more important than four channels.”

Still later, his understanding of disempowerment was to deepen. “When I asked some tribals whether they would rather have water or the right and means to say ‘I don’t have water’, most of them chose the latter.” He chose, therefore, to give them that voice by using his camera. His documentaries explore the entrenched systems of injustice and prejudice that have societal sanction and question the powerfully pervasive presence of an elite that would prefer the poor to speak no evil.

From Camp Goa, he and Jessica Mayberry run Video Volunteers, an organisation that took shape after he met the American researcher in Ahmedabad. “We’re not married by religion or state,” he clarifies. “Our relationship is sanctified by something more powerful— mutual love and respect.” A grassroots initiative that wants to build a media network for the poorest people of the country, VV is founded on the principle that people have the right to speak rather than to be spoken for. One of the projects, CVU (community video unit), is about providing equipment and training to local groups — slum dwellers in Mumbai, advasis in the isolated East Godavari district — to enable them to make films on issues relevant to them.

Caste is the latest nettle that Stalin has grasped. His two award-winning films, India Untouched and Lesser Humans, both of which explore the unspeakable crime of untouchability, have swiveled the spotlight back on the lives of millions of Dalits who still suffer it every day. India Untouched is widely accepted as “the most comprehensive look at untouchability ever undertaken on film”. Instead of hammering the viewer with rhetoric, he allows the people to tell the story. In Rajasthan, Rajputs proudly proclaim that the police have to seek their permission before pursuing cases about Dalit atrocities. Leading Hindu scholars from Varanasi have no compuctions about saying that Dalits have no right to education. And then there is the tragicomic scene of a primary-level classroom in North India. The camera focuses on Dalits who say they are forced to sit at the back of the class while upper caste students sit in front. Then the camera swings to the upper caste students, who proudly confirm it. The teacher walks in and promptly says the students are lying. But now all the students, Brahmin and Dalit, gang up and say that it is the teacher who is lying. This is confirmed by parents standing around.

After seeing an ancient ugliness flourish in the midst of modernity, cynicism comes easy to Stalin. “India should rather be at peace with itself,” he says, quoting the historian Ramachandra Guha. “A strong people make for a strong nation. Only insecurity can spur violence, and anyway, no country can be a superpower with two-thirds of its population struggling to survive.” It’s a miracle, he says, that despite its grinding poverty, India hasn’t had a civil war. “As compared to our neighbours, constantly subject to military takeovers and endless violence, we should consider ourselves very, very happy with only sporadic violence.”

To the widely held middle-class belief that education is the only thing that can raise India’s status and profile, this bio-chemist’s riposte is, “George Bush went to Yale.” And to the even smugger assertion that caste is a thing of the past, he shoots back, “The Times of India’s matrimonial page will teach you a lesson or two about that.”

This article was first published on The Times of India’s Crest edition dated January 16, 2010.

Shillong's Soulmate shares the blues with Goa

Shillong's legendary rock band Soulmate performs in Goa 


Nigel Britto

What are the odds that a band from far-away Meghalaya would spark nostalgia about Hendrix, Jimmy Page, and BB King, all at the same time? Not much? Wrong, if the band in question is Soulmate, the ‘pride of the north-east’, widely regarded as one of the best blues-rock bands in this part of the world.

An important feature of Soulmate is that it is one of the few Indian bands that consistently employ a largely original set at their concerts. In Goa, it was a 70% original list. And their stage-show here was no different. With a largely interactive presentation, the audience were on their feet throughout. Off the stage, Wallang and Kharbangar are affable and docile. On it, they transform into hungry lions; with a powerful and provocative display of musical skill. Songs like “Blues is my soulmate”, an original, set the crowd afire. Kharbangar sang into a mikestand dotted with magnetic butterflies made of X-ray sheets. If not butterflies, there are magnetic orchids sticking to the mikestand. She says her uncle, an artist, makes them for her. “I’m a huge nature lover”, she smiles.

And she supplements the aesthetics with a huge and expressive voice that would make Christina Aguilera fans squirm. She obviously enjoys her music, and shows it with a vivacious display of energy, dance and emotion. Wallang is no less, creating his tone from only a miniscule ‘Bad monkey’ processor. Just before landing in Goa, he lost some of his guitar gear. Some of it was flicked, some left behind in a taxi. How did he let us know about it? Through a song, of course. “If you ever see a taxi driver playing the blues, think of me”, he said. Indeed, Soulmate is a band that expresses its emotions through its music.

The band was formed by Rudy Wallang and Tipriti Kharbangar in 2002. Seven years and two studio albums later, it's been the same duo who form the soul of Soulmate, adding session musicians whenever they're on the road. In Goa on Friday night, drummer Shaun Nonghulo and bassist Ferdy Dhkar joined the duo. Wallang and Kharbangar did not choose the blues. Instead, “the blues chose us”, they say. Soulmate have performed at hundreds of gigs in India and abroad. In 2007, they became the first Indian band to play at the International Blues Challenge at Memphis, thus cementing their place in the big league. Soon after, their music video I am became popular on the internet, spiralling their popularity among their Indian fans.

And when Soulmate played in Chicalim on Friday evening, this popularity was in ample display, evident from the fact that the band garnered a full-house despite little or no publicity about the gig. “It was totally unexpected, the crowd was fantastic”, said Wallang, who, besides singing and playing the guitar, is responsible for most of the band's lyrical content.

And for Goa’s blues fans, the concert provided more than merely evening entertainment. It also inspired many. “I realized today, that live, original music can work out in Goa”, said Krish Gidwani, a drummer. Elliotlouie Afonso, bassist in a thrash metal band, left immediately after the concert and rushed home to practice bass lines. “They’re a total inspiration", he said, adding "Soulmate kicked some serious a** on Friday night”. He has one grouse, though. “Bands like these hardly ever come to Goa”. After Friday night’s gig, that was the overwhelming feeling among the crowd. “Soulmate should come here more often”. If and when they do, to their burgeoning Goan fanbase, nothing else will matter.

This article was first published in the Sunday Times of India, Goa, on September 20, 2009.

A night at the opera

Soprano Patricia Rozario, tenor Alistair Digges and baritone Dhilan Gnanadurai perform in Goa

Nigel Britto

Donizetti, Rossini, Cimarosa. Sicilian mafia dons? Not quite. In fact, they’re legendary Italian composers whose works featured in the concert "An Operatic experience" on Saturday night at Kala Academy. The performance was the last stop of British soprano Patricia Rozario’s tour of India. And it was phenomenal. 

After having performed similar shows in Delhi, Pune and Mumbai, the much-awaited recital got off to a rousing start with tenor Alistair Digges tackling the aria "Where ‘er you walk", from Handel’s 1744 oratorio Semele. As Jupiter, the 27-year-old defied his rather lean physique to create a perfect intonation that resounded through the DMK auditorium. A thunderous applause then greeted Rozario, Goa's most famous classical music exponent, who walked out on the stage to perform the famous aria "Endless pleasure, endless love", also from Semele. Accompanied by Mark Troop, her interpretation was masterful and hypnotic.

Few classical concerts are complete without Mozart. "The Magic Flute", which was composed to a libretto by Schikaneder, featured baritone Dhilan Gnanadurai playing the role of Papageno, a bird-man flute-player who wondered when he'd catch his bird-woman, Papagena (Rozario). The last aria of the opera was the very humorous duet pa, pa, pa, which brought smiles and a lot of enthusiastic clapping, especially from the children.

The evening also featured the Italian romantic composer Giuseppe Verdi, who's generally regarded one of the greatest opera composers alongside Giacomo Puccini. In Rigoletto, baritone Gnanadurai matched Rozario almost note-for-note in a duet, displaying tremendous power and technical ability in doing so. The award-winning Sri Lankan musician, who holds diplomas in three different disciplines (voice, piano, violin), was a crowd favourite. Popular aria Caro nome, which came next, brought out Rozario's full range and virtuosistic breath-control, which left the audience begging for more.

The second half was an Italian invasion. In Cimarosa's Matrimonio Segreto, Digges and Rozario played two lovers (Paolino and Carolina) whose clandestine meetings got interrupted when people unexpectedly turned up at them. Predictably, the unusual story brought smiles. It was followed by five consecutive works of Gaetano Donizetti, including his most famous and recognizable work, Una furtive lagrima.

Though Rozario was undoubtedly the centre of attraction, it was the supporting artistes who impressed many. Digges and Gnanadurai, both of whom are in their 20s, appeared well up to their challenging task and took on their formidable roles with panache. Digges, especially, who idolizes Pavarotti, displayed tremendous maturity in the varying roles he played, from torn lover (Handel's Semele) to a hero who desires an abducted slave-girl (Ambroise Thomas' Elle ne croyait pas, from his opera comique Mignon).

The last piece was Gioachino Rossini's La Danza, which featured all the three singers at the heights of their vocal power. The song expectedly ended with a long standing ovation that forced all the performers back for an encore. This time, it was a song from the popular musical West Side Story.

August was a month of classical concerts in Goa. And many believed the best was saved for last. Musicians and others alike were left "dumbfounded". "It was Fantastic!", said Savio Martires, a prominent jazz musician, adding "this is probably the first time Goa has seen something of this calibre". Builder Philip Braganza agreed. "I've never heard anyone sing this well, ever", he said. Many shared their views.

But as much as the concert was described as "phenomenal" by a majority of those who attended it, all was not rosy. The persistent and unpredictable rains partially affected attendance. And despite strict instructions to the contrary, mobile phones rang and cameras clicked.

Also, several people in the fraternity were peeved by the "only 3/4ths full" hall, while others saw it as a sign of hope. Luis Dias, a doctor and violinist, is one of the hopeful ones. "It would be great to see a packed auditorium to watch a daughter of the soil who is an internationally acclaimed opera star", he said. Unfortunately, it didn’t happen on Saturday. May be next time. Until then, as they say in Italian, arrivederci.

This review was first published in the Sunday Times of India, Goa, on the edition dated August 30, 2009.

Sanya Cotta's musical fairytale

Goa's Germany-based prodigy violinist Sanya Cotta enthralls her home crowd

Nigel Britto

If Finnish composer Jean Silbelius was at Kala Academy on Wednesday evening, he would have been a happy man. Sanya Myla Cotta saw to that, and showed exactly why he's so rarely heard. The reason? Not everybody can pull his music off. The eagerly-awaited concert by Cotta and Romanian pianist Delia Varga left the full-house, as one young fan put it, "reluctant to go back home". Obviously, they did not disappoint.

The much-awaited performance, which started with Mozart and Bach, got progressively more electrifying as the Goan prodigy went on to tackle rarer names like Kreisler and Sibelius, whose compositions ranged from gypsy to bohemian and staccato, accentuated by extremely technical passages. Her renditions of Violin concerto in D minor and Allegro moderato by Sibelius strengthened her already close rapport with her audience, and firmly propelled her into a league few Indian musicians of her age have reached. A testimony of both agility and stamina, a young Goan violin student later likened her performance of those pieces to that of "a hungry cheetah on steroids".

If Sibelius proved her mastery of technique, Ziguener-Capriccio by Kreisler displayed her prowess as a performer. The sudden transformation of the melody, which was sometimes quick in spasms and sometimes loaded with mystique, was handled impressively with obvious ease and a composed lyricism.

At the end of it all, a thousand appreciative fans demanded an encore.

She obliged, adding the mando "Adues Korcho Vello" to her formidable repertoire, for which she teamed up with younger brother Dane, an 18-year-old piano diploma-holder. "It felt great", the violinist exclaimed later. The 23-year-old is a Fellow of London’s Trinity College of Music and has recently joined the prestigious German Youth Orchestra. Pianist Delia Varga is from Romania, in India as a teacher at Mumbai’s Mehli Mehta foundation.

Sanya’s father and mentor Schubert Cotta, a prominent classical guitarist and teacher, organized the concert as part of his newly-launched Opus Gala project, which believes that "music is the heartbeat of Goa". He was thrilled at the response the concert attracted. "We’re here to raise the bar", he says. "And the fact that we had a full house speaks a lot". Sanya Cotta, too, agreed. "There is an obvious increase in interest in western classical music and it's very good to know", she said.

In fact, Goa has had an unusually high number of classical concerts in August, which have won the genre a lot of new fans. The Goa State Symphonic Orchestra under the baton of Pheroze Mistry played to full houses in four locations earlier this month. And yesterday’s recital was not the end of it. Come Saturday, and Goa-born British soprano Patricia Rozario will conclude her India tour with a recital at Kala Academy.

This review was published in the Times of India, Goa, on its edition dated August 27, 2009.

Coming To A Screen Near You: Diary Of A Nobody

Meenakshi Kumar and Nigel Britto

Zulekha Sayyed is no celebrity. But at a recently concluded workshop on citizen journalism in Goa, the 22-year-old Mumbai slumdweller was feted like a star. Small wonder because Sayyed is one of the most recognizable faces of the community video revolution that is changing lives of ordinary people across the country. Rickshawpullers, farm labourers and diamond polishers are among the 100, almost-trained video producers who were part of the five-day workshop.

The extraordinary experiment is a sociological revolution of sorts. By capturing the myriad problems of their humble lives on camera, these largely unlettered people are almost writing a diary. And the diary of a nobody arguably promotes self-awareness , the first stage of self-development . The basic idea is that people have the right to speak, rather than be spoken for.

It is the Indian manifestation of a timeworn trend. In 1892, The Diary of a Nobody was published in England. A lower middle-class clerk was the main protagonist and he defended his right to write a diary.

Similarly, the 100 or so Indian video producers are telling their stories, through the camera today. Video Vounteers (VV), the non-governmental organization involved in their training, says the batch has been doing this since 2006. The experiment is the brainchild of New Yorker Jessica Mayberry, a former television journalist, who divides her time between the US and India. But the idea has been taken forward by VV in concert with Gujarat-based human rights NGO, Drishti. From six community video units (CVUs) three years ago to 13 today, 50 producers originally to more than a 100 across Gujarat, Andhra Pradesh , Maharashtra and Rajasthan, VV has changed many lives. Mayberry says, “It’s amazing to see the change. When I started training some of them, they were shy, inhibited . Today, they are confident young men and women, who can challenge the corrupt system.”

VV is not the only community media group in the country. In Bihar’s remote Ramlila Gachi village , women with handycams on bicycles have become a common sight. Aapaan Samachar, an allwomen community news network launched in 2007, uses women power to focus on local issues, such as lack of electricity and water . The women shoot, edit and even anchor the films, which are broadcast on local television.

A similar story has been playing out for nearly a decade in the hinterland of Andhra Pradesh. A group of poor Dalit women has been trained by a grassroots NGO, the Deccan Development Society (DDS), to make films on subjects close to their hearts — water scarcity , food problems, lack of roads etc. They’ve made films such as Why Are Warangal Farmers Angry with Bt Cotton; Water, Life and Livelihoods and Ten Women and a Camera. Two years ago, their films made history of a sort when they were included in the retrospective section of Mumbai’s International Film Festival.

This raises a pertinent question : Do these CVUs really make a difference and act as an agent of change? Yes, says P V Satheesh, a founder-member of DDS, who was responsible for training the women filmmakers. “The mainstream media will be truly democratic once the marginalized are able to contribute to discussion of various issues. That’s when the real social changes will be noticeable, somewhat like the RTI.”

Mayberry says these videos play a significant role in grassroots development. “It’s important to get people to communicate and CVUs help in that. They encourage community based communication , which is important for development and social change,” she says.

And then there is the blossoming of the individual. Rajeshwari, a 22-year-old tribal from a remote Andhra Pradesh hamlet, is part of the CVU, Manyam Prajya. Today, she is a well-known known face in 34 villages. “Not too long ago, nobody knew me,” she says. “Today, people from higher castes tell their daughters, ‘You should become like Laxmi’s daughter’ .” For Jitendra Makhwan, 26, a Dalit who spent his childhood polishing gems in Bhavnagar, the camera has helped to break age-old caste barriers. For the first time, he was allowed inside a temple, thanks to his camera.

It’s stories like these that convince Mayberry and others like her that they are on the right track.

This article was first published in The Sunday Times of India on its edition dated August 16, 2009.

Adeus, Michael. Deu borem korum*

In a world filled with hate, we must still dare to hope. In a world filled with anger, we must still dare to comfort. In a world filled with despair, we must still dare to dream. And in a world filled with distrust, we must still dare to believe. -Michael Jackson (1959-2009)

Nigel Britto

In the end, he was denied that final curtain call. When I received a message this morning saying that the 'King of Pop' took his final bow in a Los Angeles hospital, I couldn't believe it; I cursed at the 'irresponsible' person spreading 'malicious rumours'. Even after logging on, there was widespread confusion about who exactly it was that stated the absurd. Everyone waited, with utter disbelief, for a 'credible source' to state it, to state what they did not want to hear, to see what they did not wish to believe. Then CNN broke it, and left the world numb for a while. Truth is, he was larger than life, and such was the image the most famous man on the planet came to represent.

Everyone acknowledged that this was indeed the end of an era. His death sparked off a trail of tributes of a magnitude unmatched by the late Pope, Pavarotti and Freddie Mercury combined. One newspaper called him 'The Lead Story of popular music'. Convention was thrown to the wind as news websites relegated everything else to distant corners. Facebook reported that in the hour following his death, status traffic was thrice the average. Twitter apologized for its server malfunctioning due to massive demand. AOL topped it, "Today was a seminal moment in Internet history. We’ve never seen anything like it in terms of scope or depth." In fact, so many people wanted to verify the initial reports of his death that Google's computers branded the surge as an automated attack! Personally, never have I seen almost everybody's internet statuses relating to the same event. Only old Jacko could pull this off.

The tributes came in from far and wide, and deservedly so. At his peak, Michael Jackson was the world's greatest superstar. 750 million albums' sales, 13 Grammies and around a billion fans would vouch for that. Known as much for his bizarre fashion sense and his moonwalk as for his music, he inspired a generation. The entire music world ground to a halt, as did the internet, to remember their departed colleague. Paul McCartney said, "He was a massively talented boy man with a gentle soul. His music will be remembered forever and my memories of our time together will be happy ones." Madonna says she's so said, she can't stop crying. But it isn't just his Hollywood buddies who feel the loss. His global influence is an integral part of the rich legacy he leaves behind. In India, too, MJ will be missed. "He was an artist who inspired entire generations, made pop music what it is. I remember falling in love with music because of him. A big, big, big loss and an unsurmountable universal tragedy". The ultimate tribute from Parikrama frontman Nitin Malik.

Of course, many tributes also come from shady sources. I don't think either you or I care what David Miliband or Fall Out Boy think about the departed soul. Hugo Chavez, by the way, thinks this is 'lamentable news'. Several British politicians too expressed their condolences. The Guardian hopes they won't claim a wreath on expenses!

Like Jimi Hendrix or John Lennon, it will be impossible to decipher the full impact of Michael Jackson's contribution to modern culture. He made pop a global phenomenon. He reinvented music videos. He revolutionized music marketing. A former head of Sony Music said, "he was the cornerstone to the entire music business". A radio channel I was listening to this afternoon called him 'the greatest performer of the millenium'. Probably so. There has never been, and there is likely never to be an individual as mesmerizing as Jackson. He wasn't just a singer, but an entire entertainment package compressed into one human being. Songs like Thriller and Billy Jean will continue to remain anthems no matter who attempts to fill his void. And songs like Heal the world too are unlikely to be forgotten till the world is healed, and that doesn't seem to be happening.

His life was a circus, yet during his long journey from boy wonder to superstar to alleged paedophile to humanist, he wasn't alone; his fans (and the paparazzi, might I add) stood steadfastly by him, and he lived most of his life in the public eye he so dearly loved. Somehow he's managed to take that preference into death too. Michael Jackson would have been happy to see these images. They are the undelible mark of a genius of the highest calibre. So long, Minguel, and thank you for the music. Adeus.

*Deu borem korem is a Konkani phrase which literally means 'May God bless you' but it used as 'Thank you' in the absence of any other relevant phrase in the language.

Anne Frank: The Girl Who Made A Difference

Many consider Anne Frank's diary girly. Not me. I believe it's beneficial to all of humanity. 

Nigel Britto

Looking back at the Holocaust three-quarters of a century later, we realize just two names out of the scores involved will remain forever in our collective consciousness. One is the predatory Adolf Hitler; archetypal tyrant, symbol of intolerance, embodiment of evil, and eventually, epitome of cowardice. The second is Anne Frank. Innocent and angelic; the daughter of a Jew, thus a victim of her circumstance.

Had she not been killed in a concentration camp, she would have turned 80 today. Generations of her family would have come together to celebrate the birthday of the girl who, in life, epitomized courage and maturity; and in death, inspired, motivated and moved to tears millions of those who read her memoirs, a literary classic, a humane narrative, and the ultimate documentation of the horrors of the Holocaust.Yet, so many years later, we still think of Anne Frank as a young girl who thought, dreamed and hoped, like any other ambitious teenager, of ‘the day when she’d be able to realize her ideals’. That was not to be. A year after she wrote that, she died of Typhus in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in Germany.

Anne Frank was born in 1929 to Otto Frank and Edith Hollander in Frankfurt. She had an elder sister, Margot. In 1933 Otto Frank took his family moved to Amsterdam after the Nazis took over Germany. In 1940, Hitler invaded Holland, and the saga began. Anti-Semitic laws were put into effect; Jews had to be segregated, and sheltering Jews attracted the death penalty.In 1942, Otto Frank and his family hid in a secret annex of a house, Prinsengracht 263 in Amsterdam, a house which has since been immortalized. They were provided food and other necessities by Otto’s most trusted confidantes. They lived there with another family until 1944, when Nazi forces stomped their way into the house, and deported all its inhabitants to concentration camps.Till date, no one knows who betrayed the Franks. In 1945, the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp was liberated, and the world war ended. But it was too late. Anne had already left this world by then.

She got the diary on her 13th birthday, three weeks before her family went into hiding. The book was soon to become her best friend. For ‘comfort and support’, she addressed it as ‘Dear Kitty’. Anne chronicled her life in the secret annex, wrote about her family, and expressed her hopes, fears, dreams and curiosities. The diary was published in 1947 in Dutch. In 1952 it was translated to English. Since then, it has been translated into 67 languages, and sold over 31 million copies. It has sometimes been described as ‘the most widely-read book after the Bible’.

What, I believe, makes the Diary of Anne Frank so compelling is that it resonates with everyone who reads it. She didn’t only write about persecution and prejudice. She also wrote about sexuality, relationships, and her hopes for world peace. Instead of brooding over the sound of gunfire and bombs, she chose to find hope in nature. “I hear the approaching thunder that, one day, will destroy us too”, she wrote. “I feel the suffering of millions. And yet, when I look up at the sky, I somehow feel that everything will change for the better, that this cruelty too shall end, that peace and tranquility will return once more”. Her readers like to quote the diary’s most famous line. “Despite everything, I believe that people are really good at heart", she wrote. "I simply can’t build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery and death”.

When the world was still trying to figure out the Holocaust, along came this book. She was an extraordinary writer, for any age. The lessons are timeless. She launched her entire personality into her little project, and a personality, unlike an era, can be related to. She portrayed, with spellbinding eloquence, a reality that once existed, and draws us into it. She showed us what it’s like to be a prisoner of war, to escape death everyday. She described her existence in excruciating detail. She showed us the consequences of prejudice, well prevalent even today, and how far astray it can lead us. She taught us that ‘whoever is happy will make others happy too’. She put a face to genocide, she put a face to hope.

She aspired to be a writer. Toward the end of her life, she wrote, “If God lets me live, I will work for humankind. I want to do good in this world, and I want to write… Will I ever be able to write something great, will I ever become a journalist or a writer?” Sixty-five years after her death, she lives, and millions will testify that her dreams as a writer have been fulfilled beyond her wildest imagination. Happy Birthday, Anne Frank.

New Year celebrations superficial: Centanarian

In a tiny little village in north Goa, Lourdes Conceicao Lobo is celebrating her 100th New Year. My dear grandmother takes a walk down memory lane, and tells me how the world has changed.

Nigel Britto

The walls at her home hint at a remarkable journey. Although freshly painted, the monotony of the bright yellow takes a break with various pictures and portraits from different decades of the previous century, many of which were put up by the lady herself. Among the many tapestries is a papal blessing, a parchment sealed and autographed by the late Pope John Paul II.

While liberated Goa celebrates its 48th New Year on Thursday, Lourdes Conceicao Lobo of Camurlim, Bardez, celebrates her 100th. Talking to the centenarian in her living room, she doesn't appear hundred; her voice, quivering with age, is soft as she switches between English, Konkani and Portuguese when the English word fails to capture her thought.

For the hundredth time, she will celebrate the occasion with her family. Just as she has done since 1908. Looking up from her newspaper in response to a question, she takes the opportunity to stress the importance of family get-togethers. "Christmas and Easter, especially, are family feasts, to be celebrated by the family," says the feisty woman, who was born decades before Mario Puzo raised the status of blood-ties to an iconic level with his series of novels set in the Italian hinterland.

Back to the newspaper. She loves them, according to the two daughters she lives with, and can't survive without them. "Since I have free time, I first go through the obituaries, so I can pray for the dead," she says, matter-of-factly. (Her patron saint, incidentally, is St Joseph, patron of a happy death.)

There's one major difference though, according to her, which distinguishes life in the early 1900s with that today. "It's rotten today. Human beings are rotten!" she emphasizes acerbically. "There is no love, no unity. Read the papers, they're full of murder, rape, suicide and other crimes," says Lobo, who has seen the inside a hospital only at the birth of her four children.

She reminisces, "Look at how we built our houses in the past," she says, gesturing at the Indo-Portuguese styled house she has lived in since 1963. "There were no robberies the way there are now. We could live our lives in peace, without fear. These days, people are driven by fear hence they build grilled prisons for themselves," she says, referring to modern urban architecture.

The centenarian also rues the decline of the family as a unit. "There isn't any unity now! We see around us broken families, broken homes. Parents don't look after children and correspondingly, kids don't look after their parents. These kind of things were an extreme rarity last century," says this grandmother of six who has lived through both world wars.

Another missing aspect is the respect for your fellowmen. "Youth no longer have any respect for elders. When I was young, we used to respect and seek blessings from older people. Now, that respect is reserved only for money," she declares scathingly, before continuing in the same vein, "People don't even have time for the Rosary (family or community prayer). They only have time to gossip!"

At hundred, this St Joseph devotee is one of the oldest living people in Goa. "No secret to a long life," she says. "Just the Will of God." And she believes that she has the perfect solution to the present mess our society is in. It's the same philosophy Jesus preached two millennia ago. "Love God, and love thy neighbour," she says, with a twinkle in her eye.

This article was first published on The Times of India, Goa edition, on its edition dated January 1, 2009. 

Step aside Bushisms, Obamaisms are here

Will we miss George W Bush? Not if Obama maintains his 'malapropistic' traditions.  

Nigel Britto

It's hardly been two weeks since Barack Obama's election as the 44th president of the United States, but the transition is already apparent. From George W Bush's malapropisms, which have famously come to be referred to as 'Bushisms', it's now Obama's turn to face the music by acerbic netizens. Obama-related humour is being updated online on an almost hourly basis as the term 'Obamaism' gradually gains prominence.

Behind the skinny guy with a funny name and an improbable life story, as he described himself, is a man just as prone to gaffes as his famous predecessor. Even before his official swearing-in ceremony, he's already opened his account in the dictionary of presidential bloopers.

The user-defined dictionary Urbandictionary has words like Obama baby (A child conceived after Obama was proclaimed President by way of celebratory sex), Obamanation (like abomination, the state of the country after he is elected president) and Obamaphile (A person with an incessant preference, sometimes sexual attachment to all people, things, or ideas related to Barack Obama). Of course, obamaphilia normally leads to the obamaphile having an obamagasm. But these are not the only ones. Thanks to a nation full of 'Barackheads' and 'Obamaniacs', the website has clocked hundreds of unique user-created definitions.

An online magazine, Slate, has gone a step further. Earlier this year, it launched Encyclopaedia Baracktannica, which keeps its patrons updated with the latest Obamaisms.

And Barack has done it himself too. Almost 5 months before the presidential election, he introduced his running mate, Joseph Biden, as the 'next President - the next vice-President of the United States of America'. Freudian slip? At a campaign event at Oregon, Obama told the crowd, "I've been in 57 states — I think one left to go". Incidentally, the Organization of the Islamic Conference has 57 member states. He was tired, his fans said, and dismissed the incident.

Even before he rose to international prominence and came to terms with its consequential pressures, he wasn't immune. The Associated Press reports that during a Kansas campaign, he said, "In case you missed it, this week, there was a tragedy in Kansas. Ten thousand people died, an entire town destroyed." The tragedy he spoke about was a spate of tornadoes that ripped Kansas in 2007. The actual death toll was 12.

In Amman, Jordan, on July 22 this year during the height of his campaign, he stated with absolute conviction that Israel was a friend of Israel's. "It (Israel) will be a strong friend of Israel's under a McCain..administration. It will be a strong friend of Israel's under an Obama administration."

But while Obamaisms are picking up, his predecessor is in no mood to let go. Commenting on the liquidity in the markets, George Bush said, "This thaw — took a while to thaw, it's going to take a while to unthaw".

"Obama's election is great for our country but bad for comedy", wrote Michael Musto, a columnist in an American daily. Bushisms may be hard to beat, but if the internet is anything to go by, Obamaisms are getting there.

Nigel Britto

During the early stages of her career, Patricia Rozario (OBE) sang draped in a sari. She wanted to assert her Indian roots. That she did, and established herself as a world-class soprano and opera singer. 

Today, her incredible voice has inspired several of the world’s leading composers, including Arvo Pärt and Sir John Tavener, to compose exclusively for her, and in 2001 it led the Queen of England to confer upon Patricia the Order of the British Empire (OBE). 

Mumbai born Patricia who hails from Assagao Bardez, says, “I grew up in Bombay and from a very early age my parents taught us to sing alone and as a group. I began taking part in a local music festival from the age of seven.” But in those years she had to live in the shadow of her elder brother. “We entered competitive music festivals and he kept winning. Then when we reached our teens, my voice began to develop, while his broke.” 

Patricia went on to London to study music. She says, “When I came to London to study singing my parents expected me to do a three year performers’ course and return home to settle down. It was my singing teacher, Walther Gruner who advised that I shouldn’t return but stay on in Europe and try to make a career.” 

Before long, her voice dazzled audiences and composers alike, bringing her a number of prizes and scholarships, including the prestigious Gold Medal at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama. Sir Tavener first heard her when she auditioned for his opera, ‘Mary of Egypt’. Since then, he has written over thirty works for her, making the collaboration unique in the contemporary classical music field. 

She says, “I feel it is an honour and a privilege to have music written specially for my voice but this brings with it a great responsibility to perform in the manner the composer intended.  I love it when a composer says to me ‘I want you to perform and record all my music’.” 

And that’s an offer that’s been made to Patricia several times. Known in music circles for her astonishing concert performances, Patricia says that performing live, the magic of walking onto the stage and facing an audience, is absolutely essential to her. “Singing to a live audience e m p owe r s the artist to bring the music to life and touch the hearts of listeners. When people are moved to tears by my singing or if their hair stands on end, I know I’ve done well.” She sings in various languages and her repertoire includes music in Spanish, German, Italian, French, Russian and English. She has some regrets though and not learning Indian classical music is one of them, admits Patricia who believes that Bollywood and Opera are first cousins. At the same time, opera is being promoted in India. Patricia hasn’t forgotten her roots. She loves performing in India and has done so in several cities, as well as at a Chamber Music Festival in Mumbai entitled ‘Sangat’. She reminisces, “Last year I sang at an Indo-European Conference in Goa and a European Union celebration in Delhi and I was pleased to hear ministers and diplomats say how thrilled they were to hear an Ind i a n singing European music.” 

The journey from a village in Goa to rubbing shoulders with the who’s who of world classical music hasn’t been easy. "There were difficulties and frustrations on the way,” says Patricia. “You have to be determined to keep at it come what may.” And it has been her determination that has taken her places. Patricia has appeared in recitals at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden and at the BBC Promenade Concerts in Britain and in cities such as Amsterdam, Athens, Berlin, Helsinki, Hong Kong, Madrid, New York, Paris, Strasbourg, Vienna, and Zürich. Her recordings include major works by Britten, Canteloube, Casken, Haydn, Respighi, Satie, Tavener and Vaughan Williams. 

Although Patricia’s lived in England for much of her life, she hasn’t forgotten her home, returning to Goa every other year.  “I love going back because it reminds me of who I really am, the importance of family and friends and the fact that work is one aspect of our lives.” 

And when in Goa, what she does is, “Swim in the sea at least once everyday, sometimes maybe twice.” 

This article was first published in The Times of India's Goa edition on July 2, 2008.

A tribute to George Carlin, 1937-2008

My depression on seeing Italy knocked out of Euro 2008 'deepens' as I realize with shock that I'll never be able to fulfill a lifelong dream of seeing this crazy maniac performing live. I've read and heard about what an overwhelming experience a George Carlin live show could be, and the realization that I'll never get to attend one is almost killing. This is my tribute to the greatest comedian of all time (I don't care what Russell Peters, Jeff Dunham or Pablo Francisco fans think) . Enjoy it... (Carlin would have said, "enjoy it, but if you don't wanna, then f*** yourself").

Nigel Britto

It was hardly eight months ago that, on this very same blog, I wrote a tribute to Maestro Luciano Pavarotti, a musical genius in every sense of the word, who loved what he did, brought a lot of heart to the heartless music industry, and most of all, tried in his limited capacity to make this world a better place. Now I talk about someone who wasn't that easy to love. Even so, George Carlin should be admired for his work as a comedian and for being one of the greatest linguists I, for one, have seen so far.

Of course, the most ironic part about George Carlin dying is that he would most probably hate the very idea of an unknown Indian admirer writing a tribute about him. Not that he was racist in any sense of the word, but let's just say that George didn't seem like the kind of guy who would appreciate tributes. Yet, I feel the need to, because of how often I find myself quoting him! Day after day, week after week, for sure not a month goes by without me quoting Carlin in some context or the other. My favorite Carlin quote?

"When someone is impatient and says, "I haven't got all day," I always wonder, How can that be? How can you not have all day?"

I misremember the number of times I've quoted Carlin's reply to the rather annoying statement that precedes it. Of course, there are some of his statements that are not funny, but make you think. "What if there were no hypothetical questions?" As well as philosophical statements, such as "I have as much authority as the Pope, I just don't have as many people who believe it." In a video, he said that at the end of a conversation, he never did say goodbye. Instead he said, "May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house." There are a lot of people and websites who quote him for writing the Federal Communications Commissions rules on words you can't say on TV. The very fact that those seven words are immortalized throughout the world wide web means that George's impact goes beyond comedy clubs and movies.

George Carlin was born a Catholic, and he remained that way until he reached the age of reason. He grew up in Harlem in New York, the black culture capital of the world. And as a kid, he claims to have played in the Hudson river, a time when it was filled with raw sewage. He says, "At that time, the big fear was polio, thousands of kids died from polio, but in my area, no one ever got polio, no one. You know why? Because we swam in the Hudson river. We were tempered in raw shit." Surprisingly to some, Carlin was a member of the air force. He was also a disc jockey too before getting into mainstream comedy. He would perform in the Ed Sullivan Show and The Tonight Show.

Little later, the mainstream Carlin faded into oblivion, and the new Carlin emerged, the Carlin we would always remember. A Carlin who was angry with the evils of society and had no qualms admitting it. He defied the quintessential comedian look and dressed in faded jeans and grew his hair and goatee. In 1972, Carlin acquired world-wide fame for his 'seven dirty words' . Carlin hosted the first ever edition of Saturday Night Live.

In the next couple of decades, Carlin suffered heart-attacks, but would still come up with amazing live acts of astounding humour. (I'm aware of the double adjectives, but he deserves it). My personal Carlin favorite is his 'Jammin in New York' gig, where he talks about the War in the Persian gulf, little everyday things, and my all-time favorite, "Airline announcements". If you haven't seen it, stop reading this and go watch it now.

The first time I ever heard Carlin was a few years ago, when I was around 15. I later followed his art closely. I've seen almost all his specials on some video or the other. His command over the English language and its usage was second to none in his field. If I had posted previously in this blog that my biggest regret was not being able to personally meet Pavarotti, it's closely seconded by the fact that I will never see Carlin live.

On 6th Sept 2007, Luciano Pavarotti passed away. I cannot believe George Carlin is dead. My favorite singer and now my favorite comedian have died not even a year apart. I probably will be reminded of Carlin regularly since I have the habit of using his quotes in everyday dialogue (to people who would understand them, of course). I wish I had Carlin's linguistic skills, because this piece would have come out far better than what you're reading. Carlin swore a real lot in his shows, but swearing doesn't make you funny. It's Carlin's unusual gift of connecting and identifying with his fans that made him so popular among his audiences, which I must say have remained an exclusive set. No other comedian has any business being mentioned in the same breath as Carlin.

During the last few years, many famous people have died. I would know how wonderful Russert, Yasser Arafat, Syndey Pollack, etc would be to their fans and admirers. But for me, Pavarotti's and Carlin's deaths hit the most. If I said Carlin is smiling in heaven right now, it would probably be a lie, since Carlin didn't believe in Jesus Christ, and anyway, it would go against everything he believed (or rather didn't believe).

Thanks to the fear of aging in this country, as I grow older, I won't have to die! I'll pass away, or I'll expire, like a magazine subscription. If that happens at a hospital, they'll call it the terminal episode. The insurance company would call it 'negative patient care outcome', and if it was as a result of malpractice, they'd call it a therapeutic misadventure.

- George Carlin

So, Carlin is now dead, at age 71. No one will or can ever replace him. If anyone dared to try, he would be a cheap imitation of a comedic masterpiece. Summarizing his life and death is something I'm woefully unequipped to do. Only Carlin's words could possibly end this tribute.

"I wanna live. I don't wanna die. That's the whole meaning of life: Not dying! I figured that shit out by myself in the third grade."

RIP, George Carlin, and thanks for the laughs. Your memory lives on.

The many wacky ways to say I do

Does every wedding have to be big and fat? Not really

Nigel Britto  

On a bright sunshine day in December last year, Aaron Lobo and Annika Madagavkar stepped on to a large boat bobbing in the Mandovi. When they got off a few hours later, they were husband and wife. One more example of a couple who had decided to walk down the aisle differently.

There was some strategic reasons behind the water wedding: they could start  the celebrations early, they could prune the guest list drastically and blame it on the boat size, and best of all, the boat belonged to the bride's father. There were also emotional reasons: "Both of us are water babies,'' says Annika. "We learnt to walk and swim at the same time. Also, Aaron has always run after any creature that moves, whether it involves wading through rivers, the sea, mucky ponds and the occasional puddle.''

When the couple broached the plan of their novel venue, many thought it was a wobbly idea: how on earth would there be room for the caterer, the florist and the band? And what about the priest? The biggest challenge was to get permission to hold the ceremony outside the church. "But thanks to Fr Antimo Gomes that was sorted out,'' says Annika. "We didn't want picture-perfect, we wanted to enjoy our day. The worst case scenario would have been jumping into the river in my gown to save a guest.''

Luckily, that didn't happen. The guests behaved, the band struck up, and the boat union went off with a bang.

****

In that same winter month, Michelle Alphonso married Gordon Albert, in a manner that would have warmed Al Gore's heart__even if 'warm' is not the best choice of word. The young couple believes that people should be aware of the impact of their actions and choices, and this philosophy, says Michelle, decided the way they got married. It was all about positive energy and non-destructive spending.

As far as possible, they used fair-trade and eco-friendly products. Wedding invitations were made from 'plantable paper', which when buried in soil allows a little garden of wild flowers to sprout. Michelle's gown was spun from organic silk. The decorations, too, reflected the energy of the universe. They minimized the use of fresh flowers and used bamboo instead. Says the bride, "Wherever possible, we used the elements of nature__earth, wind, fire and water__in our decorations. Our wedding colour was lavender, the color of harmony.'' Guests were requested to buy gifts from free-trade sources. Most of the gifts, except those from family, were given to charity. Giveaways were sun-catcher crystals that could be hung in a window to capture the sunlight and throw little rainbows around the room.

Even the people involved in the wedding had to have a compatible energy. "We made sure that we hired a woman from the local community who could use the additional income. The rest of the wedding was driven by the energy of my own family, who all adopted the same philosophy in supporting us through the wedding,'' says  Michelle.

And it didn't end with giveaways. The couple still feel they owe something to the environment to counter their tiny carbon footprint. "We are in the process of planting trees to negate the impact from our travel,'' she says.

***

What if you are anti-matrimony, think of marriage as a repressive institution but still go through with it for the sake of society? Nostradamus and Pocahontus (names changed on request) found themselves in this dilemma. When we got in touch with them, both husband and wife vociferously ridiculed the concept of marriage. They met in Jan 1996 and had been living-in since 2004, or, as Pocahontus's mother put it severely, ``living in sin''. Nostradamus was an event manager, Pocahontus a journalist in Mumbai.

In 2006, they decided to chuck their jobs in Mumbai, which they hated as much as marriage, and moved back to Goa. It was a risk, but one they thought worth taking. Pocahontus got a job as a teacher at St Xavier's, Mapusa, and Nostradamus became a tour leader. They started living together, but now with their families closer and breathing down their neck, the calls to get a license became louder.

In April 2007, there was turbulence. Family pressure became acute, Pocahontus was cracking under the strain. ``Every visit home started and ended with the all-important question, `When marriage'?'' P decided that enough was enough. On May 14, 2007, after fighting through the night over it, she forced Nostradamus to the Mamlatdar's office. Both were in their shorts with long faces. Pocahontus recalls, "The Mamlatdar said afternoon, but didn't specify the time. I told my parents to come at around 3 or 4 pm. But at 2:30 itself, the Mamlatdar was ready and in a hurry to finish. So my parents missed the wedding and his parents were in the building but in a different department.''

There's more. Since their witness was waiting in a long queue to have her photo taken for the identity card, Pocahontus stood in line for her while she went to get some documents signed. By the time the bride returned, the Mamlatdar had done his bit. Hence, Pocahontus has the unique distinction of missing her own wedding.

Since neither of them believes in religion there were no wedding rituals, much to the chagrin of both families. Both husband and wife, when asked, show scant respect for the institution of marriage. Pocahontus calls it "a matter of convenience" and Nostradamus says, "Marriage is all about what the family will gain. In ancient times, kings married for political conveniences. Even in Indian history, Brahmins married more as a means for networking with other high-class families. It's the same with Catholics. As much as they will deny it, Catholics are particular about caste and the focus is what the families will gain rather than on what the husband and wife want.''

Nostradamus also doesn't believe that either man or woman can be monogamous. ``Whether it's just a lustful thought or a full-blown relationship, it's all the same.'' He adds that ever since he got married, he has felt like a dog on a leash. He also believes that the institution of marriage is a complete waste of time and money, not mention the fact that it is extremely restricting. He says that in marriage, you tend to take the other person for granted, a situation that doesn't arise in a live-in. Despite their protestations, however, P&N seem to be sailing along rather well together.

This article was first published in The Times of India's Goa edition in May, 2008.

A tale of two murders

On a day when the only Scarlet should have been the color of Jesus' robe, the newspapers have done it again.

Yes another day full of Scarlet-related front-page stories. I just happened to be reading the Hindu the other day. (For the unitiated, the Hindu is South India's best newspaper). I came across this.
http://www.hindu.com/2008/03/12/stories/2008031260521200.htm

"Tourist woman murdered in Goa"
A woman tourist from Gujarat was found strangled to death at a city hotel on Tuesday.

According to police, Hema Sodha (25) had on Sunday checked in, accompanied by her “husband” Jannat Sodha.

On Tuesday morning the hotel staff, finding that the couple had not checked out, opened the room with the master-key and saw the woman strangled in the bathroom.

Is this murder any less heinous than Scarlet's? Nope, I don't think so. But it hasn't made the headlines. Why?

1. This hotel in Panaji is owned by a prominent citizen who will lose business if these details are published. It is not a temporary shack which can change its name and continue next year under a pseudonym.

2. Gujarathis are Indian citizens. Gujarat doesn't have a High Commission or Consulate to promote their cause as a diplomatic move.

3. The Gujarathi community has not made any noise yet.

And Most Importantly,

There were no photographs of the victim in semi-nude attire made available, those which would hold viewer attention, and those which could be published on front page to sell our consumer-driven newspapers. ALso, there were no lurid details about sex, drugs, rape. All said and done, a 25 year old woman is not the same as a 15 year old girl. The 25 year old woman was not white, a race we Indians seem to have an obsession with.

The press coverage of the Scarlet Johannsen episode has been disappointing. The Navhind Times has been changing its statement everyday. Ditto with other newspapers.

How many remember Gregory Fernandes? The Goan sailor who was murdered in the UK. Did the British and Indian press take up the issue with such enthusiasm then? Nope. So why should we Goans care about all this irresponsible white thrash that comes here, openly flouts the law, develops their own absurd code of ethics, (Scarlet's mom reportedly had 8 children with 5 different men, and also slit the throat of one such man.) and finally manages to get herself/themselves killed? Is this the kind of tourism we are promoting?

And why is it so surprising? The British media has absurdly asked why Scarlett was not in school. Let's take a ride to Anjuna and see how many firangs there can spell school. The only word with c,h,o and l they know is alcohol. Amen.

Goa should seriously reconsider its tourism-promotion strategy. This is not the kind of tourism that makes a place famous. If you wanna come here and live on the wild side, you're gonna have to be prepared to meet the animals.

Go Goa, 365 days on a Holiday.

(Inputs from Miguel Braganza)

Announcement

This was an announcement on IndiaTV that Bollywoon superstar Saif Ali Khan would be jamming with Delhi-based rock group Parikrama.

These are the actual words:
"Saif jaane-maane group PARIKRAMA ke saath milke mashoor pop bands jaise AC/DC aur DEEP PURPLE ke gaane bajayenge. Saif heavy metal instruments se ye gaane bajayenge !!"

*Sigh*

Well does life get any better
More yesterday than today
How I thought the sun would shine tomorrow
But it rained . . .

The Christmas spirit carries on

The midnight service at the Holy Family church, Porvorim, was among the best I have ever attended.

Nigel Britto

A few years ago, most people would avoid going to the erstwhile Holy Family Chapel, many of them preferring the more flamboyant service at Don Bosco's, Panaji. Even today, we see many people ditching their parishes and flocking to these high-profile services, services that are amazing worship sessions, but attended by people attired more suitably for a fashion show than a Church. Few of the other places that are included in this category include Loyola's, Margao, and Raj Bhavan, Dona Paula. Don't get me wrong here. I love Loyola's and Don Bosco's, but detest the pseudo-spiritual approach that's rampant among people, and especially evident during the ramp-walk to receive what Catholics consider the Body of Christ.

Considering the fact that I've finally managed to make acquaintance with a few of my fellow-Porvorim-ites, many of whom I (mistakenly) previously considered snobs, I ditched the usual Midnight service at the Holy Cross Chapel opposite my house for that at the newly elevated Church to which my Chapel is affiliated. My initial thought was to merely take a moonlit exterior overview of the Holy Family Church. I've been playing the outstanding catholic for years, not necessarily at midnight but at more convenient times of the day as well. Having left the house at 10:28pm, it took 3 minutes to complete the drive to Church. As I reached, I found myself bound by logic to enter, influenced maybe by the rare fact that I was well in time, or maybe subtle fear that I may be baked alive, not an unlikely possibility, taking into account my dark blue shirt, my black suit, as well as Global warming.

The Holy Family Church was well-illuminated and the newly asphalted parking lot was actually kinda bright. Justifiably so, because what could be worse than car-crashes inside the compound of the House of God on Christmas day? The corridors outside the Church were lined with Stars, walking past them being a nightmarish experience, strangely unfamiliar to my unobservant eyes. The Shephard was waiting outside as the flock came in, one by one, greeting and welcoming them. When I entered the great sanctuary, it was brightly lit, with the smiles of parishioners shining brighter than the electric lights above them. At 10:37pm, the Church was almost full, not unexpectedly, considering a quarter of the Church was 'reserved'.

The youth choir was barely setting up, with random sounds of 'check, check' emanating from the speakers, as well as choir members walking hurriedly around, obviously either busy or harrowed after a long day of work and preparation. But all apprehensive thoughts flew out of the open windows when I saw Jazz gurus Braz Gonsalves (whom everyone seems to call 'Uncle Braz') and Savio Martires lined up on the Saxophone and Keyboard respectively, preparing to take Christmas for a long jazzy ride. And indeed when the, "Spiritual preparation to usher in the Birth of our Savior", started, all those who were previously sleepy seemed to jerk out of their dreamy trance and stared at the choir with attention.

The whole concept of 'Spiritual preparation' was a well-thought-out one indeed, with Blossom Rodrigues doing the compering, and doing it well. The choir kicked off their hypnotic performance with the timeless carol, Do you see what I see. It was a memorable pre-mass service with the obviously well-trained choir dishing out hit after hit, all of them exceptionally well presented, voices and instruments in close-to-perfect harmony. The choral performance was only suspended for 5 minutes when Sonia Saigal sang a solo, taking the congregation by storm. (I've forgotten the name of the song). As the 'Spiritual preparation' proceeded, the voices in the choir just got better and better, with the perfect synchronization by the masters on keyboard and saxophone respectively only adding to the joy of the Season.

I guess enough of wordplay now. Straight to the point. The choir was sensational, and their focussed performance for almost 2 hours was nothing short of spellbinding. Personally, this is the best youth choir I've ever heard. Three cheers to Savio, Uncle Braz, Sergio, Sylvester, Joanne, Juanita, Genevieve, Louella, Vian, Gwyn, Irwin, Louis, Ryan, Russel, Raisa, Nadia and the others whose names I don't know/have forgotten. Seven priests con-celebrated the mass, 6 clad with gold and 1 with Silver. The pulpit was supplied by Fr.Tony Lopez, Superior General of the Pilar Fathers, who delivered a fiery and spirited homily about the superficial preparations for Christmas we all are used to. He focussed on the need for us to get the real picture, and subtly put across the pertinent question whether do we know or not whom Christmas is all about. He spoke at length about and almost questioned the significance of decorations, sweets and dances, if our personal spiritual preparations are not in place. Offertory was fairly strange, with the items that were offered ranging right from Stars to Christmas sweets. A woolen shawl was also offered, and the announcer said, "On this cold December night....." An inconvenient truth is that December is no longer as cold as it used to be. Don't believe me? Ask Al Gore. Or Dr.Rajendra Pachauri.

Communinion took a reasonably long time, considering the fact that the congregation was a microcosm of the population in India.

Suddenly, the lights were failing. There was a procession. It was getting dark. There were eerie chords being played. It was getting dark. There was incense. It was getting darker. There were many more candles than we normally saw at church. Light failed. Darkness reigned. A line of people walked in, holding the candles. At first they looked like members of the Bohemian club, but turned out to be members of the Parish Youth, and a few others who joined the candlelight ceremony. They went and stood at the altar, with the candles, as the Saxophonist played the introduction of my all time favorite carol, O Holy Night. The introduction gave way to a duet by Sergio and Sylvester. Soon, a third voice joined the harmony. Don't really know who sang what part since 12 candles seemed insufficient to see what was happening. The song was beautifully done. The stars were, indeed, brightly shining.

Then the lights came on again.

Before the final blessing, the Parish Priest came up and thanked all the people who helped in making this mass a success. And he also advised the congregation to fellowship with one another before going home. Some Cafes sponsored the coffee and cake. A politician sponsored the crib, which made me think of the irony.

The choir concluded the mass by singing Joy to the World. That was the end of one of the best Midnight services I have been for .

After mass, there was chaos. The chaos that is inevitable when around a thousand people decide to wish one another simultaneously! Everyone hung around for a bit, although whether that was voluntary or they were just following Fr.Anand's instructions, I do not know :-) Merry Christmas!

Nessun dorma, big Luciano

Few voices have had such an impact on me as Luciano Pavarotti's. It was with some shock that I learned of his passing.

Nigel Britto

The greatest Operatic tenor of our generation was a gentleman of rare talent as well as a man who did his best to make the world a better place. With a powerful voice touched by the divine, he was the first man to take opera to the masses, and indeed the first tenor to capture the public imagination.

Even though toward the end his voice had lost some of the power, it was still extremely powerful and incomparable to anyone else's. You didn't need to be a fan of the genre to understand Pavarotti. You just needed to be a human being with a heart, and that's all it took for the voice of Luciano Pavarotti to carry you away.

Even during his performance at the Winter Olympics 2006 at Torino, he put aside his cancer and poured his heart and soul into his trademark song, Nessun Dorma. The passion and intensity on his face spoke for itself. His mind-boggling performance at age 71 prompted the NBC commentator to say, "And the Master brings the house down." The great tenor's performance received the loudest and the longest ovation of the evening. Little did anyone know that that magical performance would be the last time the great Luciano Pavarotti would be performing in this world before he moved on.

On a personal note, Pavarotti's was the only operatic voice that appealed to me. It was my dream to *someday* play the guitar for him, a dream that was shattered after his death. Though his colleague tenors Placido Domingo and Jose Carreras have more than competent voices, Pavarotti will remain the man who got people interested in opera that they listened to it and appreciated it, and would definitely rate as my favorite Opera singer.

It is awful to think that he has gone forever from this world. Yet the Maestro lives in our hearts as he joins the choir of angels as they sing their unending hymns of Praise to the master of all Music, and we should thank God that he gave us the chance to listen to his most amazing musical creation for the time He did.

RIP, Luciano. You will never be forgotten.