A Letter To The Bleddy Goans From An East Indian Bugger
By Godfrey Pereira
Ex-SUNDAY magazine (Kolkata)
and INDIA TODAY journalist
Godfrey Pereira doesn't pull
his punches...
Recently I journeyed back to Goa. In the twenty five years
that I had been gone, there had been changes for the worse. I
could see that. Calangute, poster beach for tourism had tacky
bhel puri stalls and loud Bollywood music; and dirt -- and
dog feces, similar to the old Chowpatty Beach in Bombay
before the state government cleared the lepers colony.
Baga beach was filled with cheap Russians swilling Kingfisher
Beer. And, while Russian Grannies sunbathed topless, oil
massage beggars pandered to their drooping breasts. Anjuna
was loaded with Buddhist trinkets and thrash. And what have
you, the bloody Goans been doing while all these changes have
been going on?
The Russians have been openly running drugs in Goa? Army
deserters from Israel have put up signs in Goa clubs stating,
'No Indians Allowed?' What have you paowallahs been doing?
Eating last night's curry for breakfast? Complaining?
Sushegad?
Beach after beach is being decimated and not a peep
from The Goans. You bleddy Goan men! What has
happened to the cashew nuts between your legs? And
the Goan women don't seem to care. Their sons are
in The Gulf or Canada, sending money back home. Let
somebody else revolt. It is none of your business.
Bleddy, pass pao men. Make sign of the cross. Do
the mando. Bleddy, never mind men, if husband is
nutless! It is God's will!
In Mumbai thousands of people from the ten villages of the
Gorai-Uttan belt have been fighting Essel World. They are
protesting against the proposed Special Entertainment Zone
(SEZ) spread over 14,183 acres in the area. They know they
stand to lose the core of their culture if this happens and
so they are fighting this encroachment disguised as tourism.
At least The East Indians there are trying. What have you
Goans been doing as mining companies rape your hills and
plunder your fresh water resources? What? Have another Cashew
Feni? Talk about how Aunty Mary's daughter is now going out
with that bleddy German bugger? Or, are you'll fighting your
sisters, for property that you don't think they deserve?
What has happened to you bloody Goans? For the sake of the
good lord, please wake up; the politicians are stealing your
nuts from under you. The mining companies are copulating with
the politicians. Don't you hear their grunts? They penetrate
so deep, scouring for ore that they have destroyed many a
water table. And when the ore has been gouged out, they leave
the land, raped and bleeding red. Goa with her thighs spread,
an ugly red gash that was once green!
Have you not seen this happening? If you have not, then
perhaps you should convert to East Indianism. Ha! Sushegad.
What say you stupid? Soon there will be not enough water to
nourish the cashew trees on farms across Goa. Now you know
what I mean about stealing your nuts, you stupid Goans. One
Lone Snap Shot. Quepem town in south Goa, the villages of
Maina and Kawrem,
Cheryl D'Souza, her nine-year old daughter Aki, her
mother Dora, aged eighty-four, are fighting the
miners who have destroyed their dignity and who now
want to destroy Paikeachi Zor {Paik's Spring} a
fountain head for the villagers. They want to buy
her land, Sanfranscisco Estate and turn it into a
graveyard.
Cheryl D'Souza knows the deathly silence of graveyards well,
her husband's ashes are scattered over her farm. When the
miners wanted to rape her little daughter and take away her
very existence, Cheryl turned She Wolf, feral and snarling,
to thwart the beasts who are literally panting at her
doorstep.
She wants to keep them away. They want to rape and then eat
her daughter alive. She has pleaded, begged of the Goans to
help her fight this juggernaut that is pounding Goa but the
Goans have stayed silent. Let her fight, let her go to jail,
let her young daughter and old mother be incarnated, raped;
we will continue to dip our paos in last night's stale curry,
looking into our cracked plates so that we do not have to see
or know. What a shame! What a bleddy shame, you paowallahs!
The miners made her a monetary offer that they thought she
could not refuse. She did. They threatened her. She fought
back. They humiliated her. She snarled in protest. They
thought they had won the battle.
One bright morning she declared war and tried to stop the ore
trucks that were carting away the life blood of her Goa. They
arrested her and her daughter and her old mother. And the
Goans stayed silent watching her being gang raped by the
politicians and the miners. What kind of people have you
bloody Goans become?
When a man does not care about his very nuts being endangered
there must be something fundamentally wrong with that man.
And the Goan women, so many of who depend on the land for
their existence watch the men and do nothing. They watch.
It's not their problem. Pass Pao Men. Say Rosary! Go Church!
At least the East Indians in Gorai have the spunk to protest.
You stupid sushegad Goans are watching your state being
turned around on its face and brutally buggered. Three women
fighting a beast. You watch from afar. Is this entertainment?
My old friend Bal Thackeray once told me, "Sometimes it is
better to throw a few stones." It is a pity that the Tiger
cannot fight with the She Wolf; maybe; just maybe, it would
turn the mining beast around.
And all you despicable Goans, who will not fight to
save your nuts, go ahead have another feni. Or
maybe, maybe, you will start to throw a few stones.
Never mind what the Bible says. You can go to
church in the morning, go to confession, say three
Hail Mary's, but please do something, before your
Goa is Gone. I say to you gutless Goans. The East
Indians have bigger nuts and their sorpotel is
better. Bleddy, What Say You Men? If you still have
nuts, go on, throw the first bleddy stone!
