Pre-monsoon blues Whatever happened to summer? By Cecil Pinto
The monsoons are here a bit early this year, and thank goodness for that. I can live with the continuous rain, but if I have to hear the phrase 'pre-monsoon' one more time I will certainly go crazy. Everything in May is pre-monsoon. Pre-monsoon rains, pre-monsoon gutter cleaning, pre-monsoon river desilting, pre-monsoon assembly session, pre-monsoon humidity. Maybe we should just remove the word 'summer' from Goan English and call the entire summer the 'pre-monsoon' season.
'Pre-monsoon showers lash Goa', the headlines scream. Why do showers always have to 'lash', and for that matter why do headlines always have to 'scream'? Can't showers just 'fall' or 'pour'. I mean lash is connected with violence and whipping. The first petty pre-monsoon drizzle last Friday could scarcely be described as the cracking of a whip.
In a connected vein I wish to caution the public in Goa about a renewal of merger attempts. For many years the ghost of the proposed merger of Goa with Maharashtra was revived periodically, but has finally been permanently resigned to the dump heap of history. But nobody seems to be aware of the sinister moves in the other direction - southward. Watch the weather report of any national TV channel. 'Scattered showers expected in Goa and coastal Karnataka', 'Mild thunderstorms in Goa and coastal Karnataka'. We are so accustomed to being lumped with coastal Karnataka that soon we will no longer notice it. Then suddenly one day, before you know it, wham-bang we will suddenly be merged with Karnataka and be part of a new state called Gomantarnataka - or something even more tongue twisting. How dare they constantly speak of Goa and coastal Karnataka in the same breath? Is coastal Karnataka the prime destination for cheap charter tourists from Europe? Is coastal Karnataka planning an airport to service another state? Does coastal Karnataka have a history of thinly disguised communal intolerance? In coastal Karnataka do they think in one language, speak in another, write in another and do math in another language?
Back to the weather and 'pre-monsoon'. I remember this time some ten years back in end-May. The pre-monsoon showers started and progressively got heavier and heavier for a good two weeks. The Metrological Department kept putting out press notes that these were 'pre-monsoon' showers and that the actual monsoons would soon follow. At the end of two weeks of almost non-stop rains the Metrological Department finally, sheepishly, admitted that, ok, these showers obviously were the actual monsoons.
Notice how we Indians, and specially we Goans, use the 'pre' fix rather excessively. Pre-Independence, pre-Liberation, pre-Portuguese, pre-owned cars, pre-school schools, pre-marital testing for AIDS, pre-employment schemes... In fact India has given a new word to the English language, 'prepone', which is the opposite of 'postpone'. This word is in common usage only in India and did not exist in the English dictionary till its recent inclusion (The New Oxford Dictionary of English - 1998)
Last Monday there was an SMS rumour about a cyclone slated to hit Goa at 9 pm. With no way to confirm the veracity of the rumour we decided to play safe anyway. How does one prepare for a cyclone in a first floor apartment about half a kilometer from Miramar beach? First you unplug the telephone cable, so your expensive broadband modem and computer does not blow up with a lightning strike. Similarly you unplug your TV cable, so your 21 inch almost-flat TV does not blow up. Now that you have secured the two most important things in your life, let's look at the family. Are there candles handy in case electricity fails? Matchboxes? Mosquito coils? Ok that takes care of family. Now that's done you sit back, pour yourself a drink, and spread the cyclone rumour by SMS to everyone in your cellphone address book. As Confucius said, "If you have to fret, why fret alone?"
The cyclone never did happen on Monday night, but I must say I was amazed at the quick response of the Government and private operators. Electricity was immediately cut off, at least in vast areas of Miramar. I suppose this was done to pre-empt any uneducated person putting his TV on, and risking getting it blown up by a lightning strike. The local cable operator stopped transmitting, thus further consolidating the protection of our TVs. With such systems in place I feel protected. My almost-flat TV at least is definitely safe.
Now we will wait out these next few months of dampness and darkness. The newspapers will have photos of uprooted trees, overturned buses and trawlers, damaged houses and flooded streets. But life will glow anew, and green, all around. All will be well till October, when the dreaded 'post-monsoon' phrase will suddenly be everywhere. At least that sounds a bit better than calling it 'pre-tourist' season. Actually in Goa we have just two important seasons - monsoon season and tourist season. Everything else is 'pre' or 'post' these two seasons, depending on how you make a living. If you're not in the tourism industry, nor a farmer, nor a seller of rainwear and umbrellas, it can be quite unnerving how our life, and language, is pre-determined by just these two seasons.
--- The humour column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 1st June 2006. === _____________________________________________ Do not post admin requests to the list. Goanet mailing list (Goanet@goanet.org)
