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Ah, those hatching, matching and dispatching stories from the Goa are
so quaint, they bring tears, laughter and nostalgia all at once...
thought living through often leaves a life-long scar!! In continuing
the exchange of stories, I have a match-making story that involves two
central themes in Goan village life: a bottle of feni and the annoying
and persistent match-maker or soorik-kaar.
This incident took place in Bombay Dhobitalao (true story and narrated
by the two potential-grooms)... in the kood-district (around
Baastani-Kyani restos). I lived in the area as a student at St-Xaviers
College and for my doze of Goa, crossed the street in the evening and
there was Goan village life in full bloom...the parade of 'auntys'
included.
My friends Kaji, a tailor by profession and very charming and
talkative (and a year away from getting hitched) and Simao, a
'special' taxi driver, quiet in a devilish way, were being pursued by
a match-maker to come 'see' the bride. The match-maker was persistent
and at some point, had mentioned to the brides-father about Kaji, the
tailor with potential. My friends were not interested in this girl and
avoided the match-maker.
One day, the sooirk-kaar begged them ' just come and view the bride'
to make the voklecho-paai happy, he said. With the promise of 'real
feni' and food, my friends were tempted and set up the date. In the
planning, they decided to inter-change their names...Simao was a man
of few words (and the match-maker wanted the potential groom be
talkative, to make the evening a success). So on the appointed day,
Simao was Kaji and Kaji....
The evening started well they said. The vookol-to-be was presented and
out came some pattis. Then the vooklecho paai brought out the feni
bottle. Which went down smoothly and the evening looked good.......and
in keeping with the tempo, the paai brought out a bottle of
scotch....which is when the evening hit a bump.
My friends, by now 'happy' and fired-up and with an eye firmly on the
bottle than the potential-bride forgot they had inter-changed their
names. Confusion ensured. The vooklecho paa caught on....and the sober
vookol-to-be was in tears.
The trio were quickly shown the door and for the longest-time, the
soorik-kaar never came to the Baastani-Kiyaani corner again.
Kaji was married the following year; Simao, I am not sure. They both
passed on I head; their adventures and laughter are ever so present
under the oak tree which was the meeting place in Dhobitalao.
http://goanbeer.blogspot.com/
On 1/9/08, Carvalho <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
>
> --- Roland Francis <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
>
> > You surely must have been a disappointment to your
> > parents when they brought
> > nice Goan boys to meet you in the family drawing
> > room with intent to a
> > marriage arrangement, to hear you ask those
> > prospective grooms what they
> > thought of the Keynesian Monetary Theory
> -------------------------------------
>
> Dear Roland,
> When I "came of age", my parents decided that holidays
> to Goa would no longer be spent on visiting relatives,
> distributing Kit-kats, and serving Tang when they came
> to visit us. Instead, they would be spent scouring the
> countryside for a groom and "going for proposals".
>
