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Contact Rosario Fernandes - [EMAIL PROTECTED] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Carnival or Carnaval (in Portuguese) is a pre-Lent celebration held for three days beginning on Sunday before Ash Wednesday in Goa. It is full of fun and frolic for the young and old. Clad in various costumes and garbs of every style and colour, children, young boys and girls roamed the villages from house to house showing off their fancy dresses. Sometimes they could be your next-door neighbours in a costume you will probably not believe or recognize. But guessing who the reveler might be was part of the fun. Intruz (Carnival) It was the premiere day of the Carnival, The first day of the exuberant festival, Morning as bright as could be, Long shadows in the early dawn Cast across the village earth so forlorn. As grandma swept rhythmically With besom in one hand The other in a peculiar style of her own Perched gently on her hip The entire front courtyard She swept tirelessly. The crow perched on the branch Of a nearby mango tree And cawed repeatedly; She looked towards the crow and said: "Is there a letter from my grandson for me?" As she shifted her gaze from the arched pattern Made from the constant movement On the cool morning earth By the bristles of her broom; She motioned with the broom To the hens and chicks in the backyard To quieten down their very own grand symphony. As noon almost drew near, And the midday sun blazed over, In the distance we saw the first "moenkar", Approaching dressed in a clown's attire, No sooner did he reach the front of the balcony Than he started with a funny song in Konkani; Grandma's reward for which was a single penny. For three consecutive days the typical "moenkar" Roamed the village, from house to house singing songs; Some went about in groups singing In Konkani, English and Portuguese, Proving their versatility. While others improvised With their one-act comedy On the last day of the carnival As the evening slowly turned to dusk And the bell rang for Angelus, With a reminder from mother That the next day was Ash Wednesday When we would be yet again be reminded That we as mortals will finally turn to dust. Then suddenly from far away We could hear the jingles >From the bells tied to the waists Of a gang of "moenkar". Hooded and clad fully in black And called locally as "devchar" Approaching near they did strike some fear In the kids who searched for a place around the house to hide In the shed or in the storeroom at the rear. But Grandma was brave, She had handled many a "devchar" And innumerable "moenkar" And witnessed many a "Intruz" In her time before; So daringly she held her ground As she stood in the doorway. She guessed right who the lads were, But was polite enough she was Not to mention their names Of the faces That hid behind the masquerade; The lads did not a single word utter Out of their own fear Afraid as that if a spoke It would blow their own cover. But grandma said instead: "Up there from the hillside Of the village on the other side, I am pretty sure who you are", "So take this four "annas" young lads, And on your way you better be" she said sternly, "I hope you know that Lent starts tomorrow, So in church I will see you on time And in the first row for sure". Moenkar: Masked person Devchar: Devil Anna: Indian coin (4 annas: quarter of a rupee) Tony Fernandes Author: Goa - Memories of My Homeland Poems & Short Stories http://www.goanet.org/index.php?name=News&file=article&sid=290