To Goanet - One of the biggest post-Liberation frauds has just been pulled off in broad daylight by the Goa govt in collaboration with a miner-industrialist, but the Goan air is mysteriously still. Only the soft strains of the "My friend Audhut" melody punctuate the onset of Mancurad season.
Where is the usual posse of sabre-rattlers given to gnashing their teeth at the mere mention of "Manohar Parrikar"? Turned into placid pussies, have they? What happened to the Goanet cobras habituated to hissing at those whom they summarily brand "RSS/BJP/Hindutva"? Curved into centipede balls, eh? Why? What happened? Will Averthanus finally learn to use the word "unscrupulous" in a sentence that corresponds to reality? Will Dr. Rebello take time off from billing and cooing to Queen Anju and ask his "apolitical," "brave" and "amazingly far-sighted" friend Digu some tough questions? No? I see, no clearance from the Church to ask embarrassing questions of the Kangress. Ex-South Goa GBA convener Shridhar Kamat recently made love to Digu in the pages of The Navhind Times. I had warned about this master schemer long ago (see my posts in the Goanet archives) but those were days when the baby-faced convener was considered an angel descended from heaven and all his associates magic fairies. But hold your breath and keep your eyes peeled for the entry of the Rajah of Ramponkars, this prince among men, this salt of the Cansaulim soil. 'Tis the election season and Mr. Rampon has cast his net for votes, ooops, I mean, signatures for Especial Estatus. Seriously - I wasn't joking when I referred to this entire hula as the Goan version of burlesque. But what do you say to a people who refuse to learn from the past? It is as if the Goan motto is "Thousand times bitten, never shy." If Goa is to have a ghost of a chance, we must cast aside the old poison that has taken hold of our body politic: the GBAs, Lok Shaktis, the Rebellos, Kamats, Naiks, Colacos, Bhatikars, Anaclettes, Radharaos, Matanhys, Timblos, Sabnises, Kerkars, the - you know, the reptiles from the same old fetid swamp. Watch your step for these slithering lowlives as you head out into the maidan this summer. It will give me no pleasure to say to you (again), "I told you so." Regards, r
