GULF-GOANS e-NEWSLETTER (since 1994) 
 

 
Those Few Years, With My Master

 By Keith Jack Antao 
 
Teachers day was around the corner and my thought were revolving around all the 
teachers that I came across in my life all these years. I was the favorite of 
mostly all the teachers right from KG to X. I too liked them very much and will 
be grateful to them forever. But  my heart aches and I get tears in my eyes 
when I think of my most beloved Master, the person whose memories I will 
cherish forever deep in my heart. He is none other than my music teacher Mr. 
Martinho Dourado, our favorite ‘MESTRI’.
 
  
[Picture of Mr. Martinho Dourado as published in "Lourdichim Kirnnam"].
 
My heart aches because he is no more and I will never see him again. I get 
tears because he was so very dear to me and I miss him so very much in my life. 
Nearly 3 years have passed since he left us but his memories are still fresh 
and vivid in my mind. There is so much of emptiness in my life without him. I 
used to run to him the very same day of my arrival from Pune during holidays. 
Now I have no one to go to…..except his memories. 
  
I still remember the very first day I met ‘Mestri’ in person. I was just 9 
years old. He had called me to his house and I was dead scared to go to him. 
Scare, because I had watched him minutely in the church. Small though I was, I 
loved the way he played violin in the church, but I was scared of his bow hits. 
I had seen him losing his temper and hitting the choir members with the bow of 
his violin whenever they went off. I used to have hearty laugh then….and here 
was this man who called me to his place. It was somewhere before the novenas. I 
was selected to be the Angel during the novenas and was to sing the Salvi. Some 
other boys and I were called at his place for practice. I had that picture of 
angry man in my mind and my heart was throbbing when I called out to him from 
outside his gate.
 “heh, heh, heh. Eyai, eyai! (come, come). He said…..I just gaped at him. 
Is he the same person I see in the church? I asked to myself. I was surprised 
to see this man greeting us with a broad smile on his face. He seemed so jovial 
now. 
  
Anyway, our practices began and ‘Mestri’ taught me to sing salvi and he was 
very much fascinated by my voice. 
“Kan a-hai” (you have ear for music) he said. 
He asked me to stand with the choir members on Sundays. I was nervous. So tiny 
I was in comparison to the other choir members. I felt shy and awkward to stand 
with them. Moreover I was scared of his bow hits. Hence, I started entering 
church dodging him. I would sit in between my friends and try to hide from the 
searching eyes Mestri. He somehow knew that I am playing hide and seek with 
him. 
One fine Sunday he came straight to the bench I was sitting squeezing myself 
between other boys. 
“Keith khoim asa??” (Where is Keith?) 
He asked the boys. 
My friends pointed out at me and said “Mestri, ho choi asa” (Here he is) and 
timidly I came out, he held my hand and took me straight to the choir group. 
This was my first day in the choir. I was just 9 years old. 
  
One fine evening, after the novenas he sent a word for me. When I went to his 
place he shoved Rs.30 in my tiny hands. I was taken aback. I refused to accept. 
“Xeh! Ghe na? Salvik kantar kelole te.” (Not taking? You sang for salvi. Take 
it).
And he made me accept. 
Not only me, but he made it a point to pay to all the boys who dressed as 
angels. We felt so happy and proved as if we received the fist salary of our 
life through our hardship. As I grew up I came to know how honest our Mestri 
was. I admired all his qualities. He was an honest and simple man and had no 
greed at all. He never accepted extra money from anyone nor would he give an 
extra penny of his to others. 
  
He somehow was very impressed by my ‘kann’ (ear for music and encouraged me to 
take up music) the first day of my class I went with nothing but a notebook and 
was nervous as ever. He taught me some basics which I didn’t understand at all 
and had no guts to ask him to explain to me again. I was told to prepare 
thoroughly and come for the next class. I was searching for lame excuses to 
skip the class but my mom was strict enough not to hear my excuses. I had to go 
and I did get what I expected. A good firing I was literally in tears and 
decided not to go to him again. 
  
Come, what may. If it wasn’t for my mom who convinced me to go back for 
classes, I probably wouldn’t be playing violin in the church today. The solfage 
classes started again. Though initially I found it difficult but Mestris’s 
constant encouragement and his confidence in me made me work harder. 
  
As the months and years passed by my classes became more and more interesting. 
More than his classes I liked his talks. Oh! How I admired his way of talking 
his expressions. His actions. Especially, when he would share his good old days 
of Portuguese time. His talks would be interesting and make me curious of 
Portuguese regime. I loved going to his place. Never felt it was a music class. 
His classes were never boring because he had so much to tell besides music. 
That fear from my heart was gone. I was no more scared of him. Though at times 
I did get scolding from him but that was because he wanted me to play the best. 
Not only me, also wanted all the students of his to shine in music. He knew 
exactly what his student was capable of. 
   
 
He loved the way I played violin and was very proud when I passed my IV & V 
grade with distinction. I still remember he called up at home and was over 
exited. 
“Keith porabens. Distinct meulea tuka ekleakuch” (Congratulation Keith. You are 
the only one who got distinction). 
There was a unique bond between us. I felt very much at home at his place he 
would serve me evening tea and snacks. I would take CD’s and cassettes for him. 
We would enjoy listening to music together. He would give me some selected 
numbers to play as extra practice. He even allowed me to play his violin which 
he hardly trusted with others. 
  
(Picture added from www.goa-world.com archives)
 
I admire and appreciate the way he took care of his wife. He liked to take care 
of her by himself. He was never tired of her constant calling “Dourad”, she 
would call out and he would promptly answer her “Antonette ietam”, and poor 
fellow would at once go to attend her. He combed her hair, powdered her and saw 
to all her needs. Sometimes in the evening I would be late and come home as the 
church bell tolled for Angelus in the evening.  
He would at once say “Antonette, ghant zali. Amori korya” (Antonette, the 
church bell rang for Angels. Lets us pray) and we three used to pray Angels 
together. 
  
He always wanted his wife to go to heavenly abode before him and God the 
Almighty did hear this bumble man pray. After the death of his beloved wife his 
health deteriorated. Even though he was not in the best of his health his talks 
were never ending. He was a selfless person and wanted me to learn as much as I 
can. 
  
I will never forget the evening of 29th December 2005. My dad and I went to see 
him and he was overjoyed to see us. He spoke to us from his heart. Every time 
my dad and I stood up to leave he would make us sit. 
“Bosai re. Khuim voitai?” (Sit. Where are you going now?) 
This way we nearly spent one and half hours with him and that was the last time 
I spoke to my beloved Sir that evening. I left him saying goodbye not knowing 
that this would be my last goodbye to him. The next day my heart sank when I 
got the news that my Sir was no more. And I repented for not spending some more 
time with him the previous day. 
  
Now when I come down in holiday I have no one to go to the person who had a 
special corner in my heart is no more. I cherish his memories close to my 
heart. May his soul Rest in Peace. I will never forget to pray for him and his 
departed wife’s soul. 
  
“I MISS YOU MESTRI”
 
Keith Jack Antao 
 
 
[Keith Jack Antao is the current Kingfisher's Voice of Goa Award Winner.
This article has been published in "Lourdichim Kirnnam"  - a publication of
United Club of Utorda-Goa, printed in November 2007.  
The late Mr. Martinho Dourado is the father of the Konkani writer-poet and 
goa-world.com team member,  Lino B. Dourado].
 
 
Link article: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/gulf-goans/message/23675
 
 
[Goa-World.Com team and Gulf-Goans e-Newsletter moderators encourages all to 
forward articles and information of publications from your village church/ 
club/organization.  Let the world know about your activities through us 
- Ulysses Menezes].
 
 

  Goa World   Goa Mog     Goa SuRaj       Super Goa  (em Português)  
TGF Writers' Sketchpad  www.colaco.net
     www.goa-world. .com/goa/ music/  The Online KONKANI Music Station 
Mahableshwar http://www.mahables hwar.com 
St. Mary's School - Mt Abu, Rajasthan India http://www.abusms. com  
http://www.goa-dc.com/flvvid/ikonkani.html    
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aTduCJkQNiQ
Goancauses  http://www.yahoogroups.com/group/goancauses/
EXPRESSIONS - THE FLOWER SHOP 
http://www.goa-world.com/expressions/
http://www.w3.org/2006/10/SSML/papers/paper.pdf
GOA MAG ONLINE http://www.goamag.net             http://mumbaihangout.org/radio/
http://www.renewalsetc.com/renewals.htm
 

 
 




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