Cheers Dears
By Augusto Pinto
Mud in My Eye
Dears,
My German Shepard, Laskar was taking me for a walk. As usual he dragged me
to the house of my friend Tinu, whose company he likes. Just as Tins, as I
call him, was coming out, we were accosted by young Priya, his neighbour,
who piped up with,"Tinu Uncle, why shouldn't we sell Goa?"
"Who says we shouldn't sell Goa?" retorted Tinu. "My teacher, Tinu Uncle."
"Bah! What do teachers know?" said Tinu. " I said , "Hey, Tins, do you think
that's the right thing to tell children? Besides I'm a teacher too" I
interjected." He shot back, "Q. E. D." I said, "What's that supposed to
mean?" "Quod erat demonstrandum. It's Latin. Means - it proves my point", he
replied with irrefutable logic.
I didn't want to push the matter too far, knowing that if I were to quarrel
with everyone I find obnoxious, then I'd soon find myself at a loss for
friends.
Turning to Priya, Tinu continued, " Pretty girl, do you know that for ages
now, the smart people have been selling Goa. Do you know who are the richest
people in Goa?' When Priya shook her head, he turned to me, "Tell her." I
rattled off the names of the biggest industrial houses in the state.
"Do you know how they became rich? By selling Goa. Not just land. But even
mud." said Tinu. "So if you want to make it in life, just go ahead and sell
Goa."
"I'm con-fused", Priya said in the sing-song voice that kids nowadays use
when they want to indicate that you're talking bull, and she traipsed off
I said, "Look Tins, what's the problem if people sell mud? Everyone has to
make a living. They make theirs by selling mud."
"No problem", he replied, "Except that you have to chop down the trees to
get to the mud" I said,"And what's wrong with that. What's so bad if a few
trees go here and there?"
"Few?!!", he almost snarled at me, "We're talking about whole forests." I
said,"Okay, but look at the benefits to the State"
Tinu started to laugh quietly."Yeah, benefits!! Do you know what happens
when there aren't any trees to hold the soil? When the rains come the waters
just gush any which way. Don't you teach your children that water finds its
own level? And if it has to gush into your house, it will. Beautiful, dirty
red mud. It's such fun for the kids - they just looove it - and you know
where else it goes? Into the fields, dear Gusto - and that's the end of
your paddy cultivation"
"So why don't they protest Tins?", I said. He replied, "Since when do the
poor protest?"
I said, "But they do give employment to them don't they?"
"Yes dear, pretty dusty employment it is too. Would YOU like a job
shovelling mud, dear? Or perhaps you'd like to drive one of those trucks of
mud at breakneck speed, polluting every place along the road, and heaven
help those who get into their path"
"But that's going to get taken care of by the speed governors, Tins" "Gusto,
when will you stop believing in fairy tales?'
I was getting exasperated with this conversation by now, and decided to
throw a spanner in Tinu's works."Look Tinu, aren't you contradicting
yourself? You started out by saying that we should sell off our land if we
want to make it, so why are you cribbing now?"
"So I did, Gusto, so I did. We must go right ahead and sell our land, mud
and all. And when we've finished selling off the land, we can sell the
water. And then the air. And when that's done with, we can go right ahead
and sell ourselves - that is if we haven't already done that long before.
My dog Laskar doesn't like to see me busted in an argument for it puts me in
a bad mood, and then he doesn't get any bones, so he started to drag me back
home.
Till the next time then,
Cheers (ENDS)
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The above article appeared in the April 24, 2008 edition of the Herald, Goa
