It's a Sunday's rude awakening to read that Alfredo has left for his happy hunting grounds.
A unique personality, a rascal and a rogue in a most lovable way. He was a rebel against every tradition, preconceived notion, and hidebound cultural restriction. The low castes in his village were as dear to him as the bhatcars who frowned on the company he kept. He had a refreshing sense of humor to which FN referred, but above that he was courageous and almost fearless in his challenges to authority both Portuguese and Indian in the defence of his Goan rights. If Alfredo was not a journalist, he could, if life had taken a different turn, be a bash-on-regardless type of army general. Alfredo was not atypical of his generation in the matter of his love of being a Goan. Achievements came naturally to him and he as smoothly seemed to brush them off as his ability to make an impression on people no matter what their station. A product of the mold of daring and adventurous young men and women who were in their late teens and early twenties when Goa's political landscape changed forever, Alfredo never lost his love for fellow Goans and the joy of a good escapade. He was indeed Goa's ambassador in Sweden, a natural one-man welcoming committee who never tired of being a warm host to an Indian visitor, no matter how numerous or from what station in life. Your importance or inconsequence meant little to him. It was your camaraderie he most sought. A tip of the hat and a swig from the glass to you Afredo. May your spirit never depart from us. Roland. Sent from my iPhone
