THE COCONUT TREE, MORE THAN JUST ANOTHER FRIEND TO GOA This essay by Goa University assistant professor, microbiologist, environmentalist and campaigner Dr Nandkumar Mukund Kamat forms the preface to master craftsman Vijaydatta Lotlikar's fortcoming book 'The Art of Coconut Craft'. It is to be released on December 7, 2009 (Monday) at the Institute Menezes Braganza art gallery at 4 pm.
By NANDKUMAR KAMAT [email protected] I was born on a day considered auspicious in the Hindu almanac -- Narali Poornima. It marks the end of the monsoons and the beginning of a new fishing season, and a huge number of coconuts are offered to the sea to appease it. Apart from my birth coinciding with a day known for its coconut ritual, there is another reason I can fully identify with this book, its theme and the artistic impulse of Vijaydatta Lotlikar. I happen to be a tall person; people in my village would compare me with the maad, the coconut tree. 'Kitlo lamb re tu, samko maad kaso vadla mure!' I often heard such 'compliments' as I walked along village roads. Being brought up in a village with a number of rolling coconut palms on khazan bundhs (riverside protective walls), my encounter with coconut trees intensified from childhood to boyhood. Finally it even assumed a certain spiritual dimension. And this is how.... Behind our old house at Bondir, Santa Cruz (Calapur), my father planted a coconut seedling (kavatho). I grew up with it: I used to talk to that tree with a degree of innocence. I would sit below it and read books while watching the crimson sun set behind Panjim's Altinho hill. I penned poems under its gentle patronage. When it flowered after five years, we celebrated. When it produced the first bunch of coconuts, my father did not permit anyone of us to consume them. The first crop was offered to our family deity, Lord Ganesha of Khandola. When we harvested the second crop, we could not believe our eyes --- each coconut was like a large clay pot, a modki. The tender ones produced more than a litre of water. Each coconut shell was like a large bowl. But after 12 years, the tree had make way for our new house. I couldn't stop its cutting. It was a choice between a new house and my beloved coconut tree. I left the house when the workers arrived to slaughter the tree. My mother was also unhappy. My father assured her that the best coconut from the tree to be sacrificed would be planted in front of our new home. He kept to his word. The next morning, I spotted the coconut logs stacked in the garden. For me it was almost a stack of human bones. I wept alone. Something had been removed from my life; a strange emptiness was created by the absence of that tree. For the next two years, I watched the stacked logs decompose. Then, nothing was left. I wrote an article in Konkani, Madparabrahmache ek zad, recalling my almost spiritual relationship with that tree. Concluding that article, I expressed my wish that my body be placed on a pyre of coconut logs and dry leaves, so my mortal matter could become one with coconut bio-material. Late Konkani poet Shankar Ramani was moved by the article, to send me a postcard. * * * Can Goa, Goans and their identity exist without coconut trees? Our traditional fish-curry would lose its personality without the coconut. For that matter, a large number of Goan recipes would have no meaning without coconut. Goa is among top eight coconut producing states in India, yet we have to import coconuts for domestic consumption. One could mention here that the first organised coconut plantations were established in Goa at least 3000 years ago. Before that, coastal Goa had wild coconut plantations, as an integral part of coastal ecosystem. The major credit for popularising coconut-based horticulture and village artisanship should rightly go to the 225 gaunkaris (village communities) of Goa. The gaunkaris promoted dense plantations as reliable wind-breaks in the sub-coastal region. These plantations performed a useful ecological role -- binding soils and sand, reducing wind and storm energy. Then, probably during the Satvahana period, the toddy-tapping business was developed. A coconut tree is known to yield 400-500 litres of toddy, from which 18 bottles of vinegar can be produced per year. So the coconut tree also promoted the genesis of traditional fermentation and distillation technology. While exploring Goa's biodiversity, I noticed that the coconut tree is not just another tree. It has in fact evolved with the local ecosystems, food chains and food webs. Cataloging the life forms dependent on a single mature 15-20 year-old coconut tree, I could count more than 1200 species --- from bacteria to fungi, lichens, insects, arboreal mammals and birds. Later, during my Ph. D. research work, I cataloged 40 mushroom species associated with some or the other part of the coconut tree. It became clear to me that we need to see the coconut tree as a super cluster of micro-habitats. Yet, the Goa Tree Conservation Act doesn't even consider the coconut tree as a protected species. When a mature tree is cut, we lose the micro-habitat of some 1200 species. What alternatives exist for these life forms? Who does the environmental audit or costing? * * * Coconut links the ecosystem and species diversity to the diversity of human creative and cultural expressions. The art of Vijaydatta Lotlikar shows what's possible using coconut bio-material as a medium. Vijaydatta is limited perhaps only by his own imagination; every part and product of coconut tree offers limitless opportunities to invent different uses. It was Goa's pivotal position as a trade emporium of the East and a maritime centre which introduced here the knowledge of using various coconut products and parts. At least a hundred applications can be considered. For instance, the vheerachi sann or khutaro --- the broom made from the thick, fibrous ribs of the dry coconut leaf --- is Goa's innovative, eco-friendly product. Vijaydatta Lotlikar's approach to complement and supplement Goa's own coconut lore, coconut ethos, is essential to promote a culture of consumption of bio-degradable and eco-friendly materials, generate intellectually satisfying rural employment and reduce the ecological footprints of global warming --- because planting of more coconut trees means more carbon sequestration. For natural disaster management on Goa's coastal areas, there is no substitute for creation of a bio-shield of densely planted coconut trees, covering many tiers from the beachfront to settlements. Lotlikar's useful, practical tips could rejuvenate the interest in the revival of Goa's coconut lore and traditional artisanship based on coconut products. It could serve as an important guide for teachers of environmental education and instructors of handicrafts. This is a book which realises the dreams of Mahatma Gandhi and Ram Manohar Lohia. Goa can see sustainable rural prosperity by the intelligent promotion of coconut based economy, processes and products. This is a pioneering publication on the subject in Goa and needs to reach every Goan who's true to his Goencho nall! It needs to be seen in the hands of our children. The art of Vijaydatta Lotlikar has to be practiced and not forgotten.
