Soter, The day is not too far away when our very names will be questioned and taken as a sign of denationalisation.
As for who was and who wasn't denationalised in 1950s, I wonder who were the regular lap-dogs panting outside the Portuguese administration, waiting for any scrap of a mining lease to fall their way. And if it wasn't mining there was always the odd Portuguese one-eyed bureaucrat to bribe to look the other way while gold and luxuries were saftely smuggled through Goa's Gold Corridor. The names of these shops can still be seen in Panjim and they aren't Portuguese sounding. If you weren't mining or smuggling in Goa, you could always emigrate to Bombay and set up a jewellery store somewhere around Sonapur, make sure your children study in Marathi, and grow up to sing or write long verses in Marathi, which is now taken as a rich "contribution to the literature of Goa." Many, so the story goes, forgot to mention that they were from Goa, the poor relations of their wealthier cousins in Bombay. Of course, history is conveniently forgotten, while forked tongues glibly accuse Catholic Goans of being denationalised. The same Goans who ate pez, spoke in Konkani at home, sang their mandos, songs and hymns in Konkani, wrote and put up their tiatres in Konkani, opened up private printing presses and started newspapers in Konkani, made sure that Goa became a separate state and that Konkani was given its rightful place as a language. Best, Selma
