KITEM? BAZARANT VETAM? KITLE POIS? PAUS PODDTA ... By Tony Pinto
20th August, the date in 1992 when Konkani was included in the Eighth Schedule of our Constitution, may not hold as much significance as 26th January, 15th August and 19th December for many people, but the date will be remembered by all concerned with our language. It marks the official rebirth of the language, after all its trials and tribulations, from its attempted suppression by the Portuguese in the 17th Century, to the attempt by the Marathiwadis to elevate Marathi to equal status with Konkani in this state, by devious means. The latter act, had it succeeded, would have surely spelt the death knell of Konkani, but the timely intervention of Parliament in fulfilling the wishes of the Konkani-speaking people by recognizing our language as equal in status to that of several other Indian languages, rightfully put Konkani just where it belongs. But what next? The obvious answer is that we do not just sit on our laurels but continue to work towards its further development as an Indian language and ultimately as a world language, perhaps even surpassing English in this regard. Impossible? Hardly! Following below are examples from my personal experiences; examples that illustrate the adaptability and versatility of Konkani. Shortly after I arrived to settle in Goa in 1989, I was browsing in a shop for a birthday present, when a loud bellow in my left eardrum almost knocked me over. It was a single word, just 'Kitem'! Quickly regaining my composure, I turned to face the fearsome voice that turned out to be that of a female shop attendant, and the only other person in the shop besides myself. I immediately recalled the U.S. Presidential election campaign of 1987, and pretending to be George Bush, I replied in English, "Watch my lips. I am now speaking, but before you rudely yelled kitem at me, I never said a word." The ferocious voice turned into a heap of quivering jelly. "I'm sorry, what were you looking for?" she blurted out apologetically. I have since realized that it was my sheer ignorance of the language that made me assume she actually said 'What!!' when in fact, in the scenario described above, 'Kitem!!' means 'Can I help you, Sir?' or 'May I be of some assistance, Sir?'. Those five or seven words in English are therefore reduced to just one in Konkani and, increasingly, in a world where time means money, superfluous words can be dispensed with. Thus, by this one simple example can be seen the enormous potentiality of Konkani. Since that encounter I have discovered and am still discovering the versatility of our wonderful language. Take the simple act of greeting a friend that one has encountered early in the day. In England, for example, one would say, "Good morning." In Germany, "Guten morgen". Nothing quite so boring in Konkani. The same 'Good Morning' can be substituted by 'Bazarant vetam?'; 'Kitle pois?'; 'Postant vetam?' (if one is carrying a letter); 'Azunuim paus suru zaunk na' (normal greeting for the pre-monsoon months of May and June);'Paus poddta' (if it is raining); or 'Gorom zata', (if it isn't raining), among other things In the beginning I mistakenly thought that I was also expected to share my views on the weather, however I am a little wiser now. I now no longer make the mistake I once did, when someone in a hurry asked me, 'Boslai?' ('Are you sitting down?') in greeting, and I foolishly replied, 'Na, Haum uboch asa' ('No, I'm standing' as I happened to be at the moment.) The only thing in common when comparing Konkani with the English translation, is in the stating of the obvious. But Konkani scores over the former because it is not only a salutation and an update on the meteorological situation, or activity one is engaged in at the moment, but it also conveys an intimacy between individuals, a quality not so easily captured in the other languages. The development of Konkani in the modern world will be no mean task as new words will have to be coined in order to keep pace with change and progress. In order to retain out Goanness we must not yield to English and priority will have to be given to the coining of new Konkani words to replace computer, chips (silicon, not potato), integrated circuits, stock market and yuppie. Goa, we are told, is ripe and ready to lose our cultural integrity. That's because of the influx of people from all over India and the world to Goa; whereby Konkani speakers will become a minority. This happened, it is claimed, for example in Singapore, the little island, that today bears no resemblance to the place it once was a few decades ago. Singapore used to be a place which was a polyglot of languages, but since developing as the free port it is today, the language of the people, the business community and industrialists, is English. And its culture has changed. For instance, the traffic of Singapore forty years ago was more or less like what we have in in Goa today. Now it is an orderly city. If we go the Singapore way, let's see what might happen to us. Driving, one of the few adventurous pursuits of Goans, may die. We must not allow this; even if the NO ENTRY sign is changed to PROVESH BOND, motorists must be encouraged to ignore it. Treating it in exactly the same manner as they would the sign in English, entering the road regardless, and driving in the wrong direction of that one-way street. These few illustrations are merely the tip of the 'barf'. But, however much we would like to have everything translated into Konkani, we must be prepared to make exceptions. For instance, in tennis I would like our Leander Paes to continue on his winning ways and not collapse in laughter on hearing the umpire announce the score as 'pandra mog.' Or Goans, attending the cinema to watch the John Wayne Western classic 'Stagecoach' (I think it was), that had been dubbed in Konkani would, I am sure, prefer to see the Apache chieftain ride up to the pale-face, raise his hand in greeting and say "How!!" I once saw this Western dubbed into German, where the chieftain sounded quite ridiculous with his 'Wie geht es einen', literally translated 'How do you do?', and he would sound equally ridiculous if he greeted the 'paklo' with one of the variety of familiar greetings that we in rural Goa are accustomed to. Hopefully some of the above suggestions will be implemented by the Government and the various organizations that have worked to raise Konkani to its present status. The continued dedication by the same bodies together with the remainder of the Konkani-speaking people will, in time, elevate our language to the pinnacle where it belongs. -- This is an edited version of an essay that was originally published in 'Bannauli: Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow'. Konkkni Seva Kendra, Bannauli, 1992. Tony Pinto passed away on 20 July this year. A tribute to him from his brother can be found at the link http://dr.ribeiro.goan.school.googlepages.com/imo011.html Submitted to Goanet by Augusto Pinto 40, Novo Portugal, Moira, Bardez, Goa, India E [EMAIL PROTECTED] or [EMAIL PROTECTED] P 0832-2470336 M 9881126350