https://www.heraldgoa.in/Cafe/Roundtrip-to-Majorda/193349
In his handwritten manuscript for the classic 1942 novella *L'Étranger* (which is usually translated into English as *The Stranger*), Albert Camus penned a most penetrating insight, “fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth.” The great French philosopher-author, who won the 1957 Nobel Prize for Literature at the age of just 44, oftentimes wove together existential explorations with real life including absurdist twists, to produce some of the most acclaimed books of the 20th century. I could not help recalling his maxim upon encountering *A Shortcut to Tipperary (From Goa)*, the spirited debut novel by Radharao Gracias, which is being launched this evening at Ravindra Bhavan in Margao. There are many things to love about this lively effort to tell the truth via the prism of fiction, starting with its author description that is all fact but reads like pure legend: “Radharao Gracias is known for his vast knowledge, contrarian views, and a dogged determination to stand up to the high and mighty. He is one of those rare breeds who never cares about being politically correct, which lands him in regular controversies and hias consequently suffered assaults, engineered by those who differ with him, but the survivor that he is, has ultimately lived to tell the tale.” There is more detail here, which bears retelling to understand the background of this unexpected novelist, who previously earned his reputation “over decades as lawyer, legislator, activist, columnist, debater and orator with an abiding interest in birds and wildlife.” He “was in the forefront of the agitations to get recognition of Konkani as Official Language and the rights of parents to choose the medium of instruction for their children. He suffered serious injuries in police baton charge and spent days in hospital leading the agitation for re-alignment of the Konkan Railway route. He defended hundreds of persons who were arrested and prosecuted in the course of these struggles, all pro bono. He is one of the few in this land of shifting political loyalties, who has stuck to his party the UGDP through weather, fair or foul.” All this is the blood and sweat of democracy as pursued pell-mell, on the streets and in the law courts, so one could well have expected Gracias to scorch his readers with more of the same in *A Shortcut to Tipperary (From Goa)*. But that is not the case at all, as the writer-translator Xavier Cota notes in his judicious Foreword: [This book] is a meticulously crafted, delightful, morality play that heralds the arrival of an extremely talented, insightful writer on the English fiction scene and has readers anticipating a speedy sequel.” Cota – who is described by Gracias as “my neighbour down the road” – has rendered yeoman service to Goan writing over many years by translating a considerable portion of Damodar Mauzo’s fiction into English from Konkani. That highly acclaimed ouevre, which most recently won the richly deserved Jnanpith Award 2022 is also often rooted in Majorda – where Gracias and Mauzo are “co-villagers” – and as Cota notes, “Radharao weaves a compelling, sometimes improbable, but always captivating tale that holds us in thrall as we meet the staples of Goan village life- Church, School, Beach, Fishermen, Farmers and the ubiquitous Taverna. Some of the places and characters that people the novel are taken from real life – names and all!” In these ways, *A Shortcut to Tipperary (From Goa)* fits into an established genre: the nostalgia for Goa of bygone simpler times, when an intact village community still maintained its traditions. This is ground explored by numerous memoirists, the great artist/illustrator Mario de Miranda, and novelists like Victor Rangel-Ribeiro (who is still writing excellent fiction at the age of 96). In his turn, Gracias writes with great feeling about “this little village of Calata” (a neighborhood in Majorda) in which “I have learnt the simple joys of living and giving. People are poor but not depraved. A place where poverty itself enriches you.” He writes, “if there is no food in the pot just take a walk. Fruits and wild berries abound. Or take a machete; you might find a beehive. Just cut into the tree and scoop it up. Or climb a coconut tree and pluck tender coconuts. Only take care the landlord is not within sight! Or dig into the drying muck of a pond and pick up the tasty and nutritious bulbs of the pond lily or lotus. You may eat them raw. And in season you freely get cashews in plenty. And you do not have to look out for the landlord! No one cares; you may take as many as you can eat. Only leave the nuts behind. And mangoes and jackfruits too…Little demands easily fulfilled. Poor land where no one dies of hunger.” Sections of *A Shortcut to Tipperary (From Goa)* leave no doubt the author is writing fiction for the first time. Nonetheless, for the most part, I was struck by his vivid prose, and unique metaphors: “The sea rips and roars as the waves gather in force. The waves roll and rise finally ejaculating on the beach in froth and foam. The sandpipers chase the dissolving froth, probing their long beaks like forensic experts examining a rape victim.” Later, rather amusingly, “the storm hits the coast heightened by thunder and lightning. Pummelled by the winds, the coconut trees sway and bend low, like Congressmen before the high command.” In his own description of the book, Gracias writes “one purpose, among others, is to leave a record of a way of life that is so quickly disappearing. And in doing so [I have] consciously taken recourse to the teatro (Konkani drama), an art form that is quintessentially Goan [where] the storyline is clear, but other aspects of life too butt in, to keep the viewer informed and entertained.” This rather charming experiment has mostly worked, and educates and pleases in equal measure (and special mention must be made of its excellent suite of line drawings by Norman Tagore).
