I am not a member of the Goa Book Club but since books and I have always got together, I occasionally browse the posts on that group, with a view to find something that will interest me.
I was pleasantly surprised to see that Ivan Arthur has written a collection of village stories (that is what the reviewer calls it), of the twin villages of Kevin-Amboli on Andheri's west side. When my family left Byculla in 1971, we chose to live in Amboli, then a picturesque, small Catholic village with a distinctly East Indian flavour. That community was slowly losing out in numbers to the slow influx of Goans and Mangaloreans, but the latter willingly ceded the emeritus status to the East Indians. From the busy Byculla city pace, we smoothly transitioned to an urban village life. I made good friends, among whom was Robin Arthur, Ivan's brother and Linda, Robin's future wife. Their group willingly took me in the activities surrounding the St. Blaise's Church in Amboli, a historic, well known but small village church of the neighbourhood. They included me in whichever plays and drama they staged in the church compound which were always well attended by the village folk. For a small village, there was surfeit of talent among the youth. Ivan turned out to be a leading copywriter and ad executive for an international advertising company and his brother if I remember right, followed in his footsteps. There were budding musicians and amateur artists and sculptors too. Amboli was no more than about 5 miles from Versova beach and the Versova fisherman's village and this proximity allowed Amboli residents to get fresh and dried fish and plenty of fishermen distilled local hooch which was the boire de la journee (drink of the day) of many Amboli adults. Those were days when tall residential buildings were just making an appearance on Versova beach and a 2 bedroom flat in one of those buildings would afford you a view of the Arabian Sea on opening your window for just about 40 or 50 thousand rupees. There were liquor joints in the fishing village that rivalled Byculla's except in sophistication, where you could get beer (not to mention hooch) and fresh fried Bombay duck in Turmeric and Rava that made an excellent accompaniment. In the mornings the Goans and Mangaloreans in Amboli would take a bus ride to Versova to buy Toddy just tapped from the trees to make the fluffy sannas to dip in the festive sorpotel. The houses in Amboli were as picturesque as in any small European village. The paths between houses were no more than three feet wide or less and when I walked to the bus-stop I would have to greet Mr or Mrs D'Mello or Pereira or Fernandes and if I didn't, because there appeared to be no one on the verandah, I would get a "hello Roland, enjoy the day" from someone on the breakfast table deep inside the house. Friendliness was a common currency. Gradually when I left for the Gulf, things were changing. The landscape was transferring from small houses to buildings and from Catholics to others. Everyone had heard of and wanted a piece of urban paradise. I was not long enough there to really know what made the village people tick and with Ivan Arthur's book, hopefully that will be corrected. I talk to Ivan very occasionally. Never met him but our paths crossed when I wrote something on Goanet that he read. He now lives in Assagao, Anjuna or Chapora I think, as close to his native Amboli and he can get. There are some things whose pleasure you can guarantee without experience. Ivan Arthur's book will be one of those things. Roland Francis Toronto.
