Dressed to chill

The state under the Portuguese was backward without roads, hospitals and basic amenities: even the landed gentry used thunder boxes. Goan Christians though given to migration were known, as Dr Teresa Albuqerque observes, mainly for their culinary and menial skills (unkindly called the ABC or ayah-cook-butler syndrome). But gradually more and more aspects of the state came to be known and relished by non-Goans and, as in Frank Simoes’s case, Mumbai’s progressive, marketing savvy environment played a fairly prominent part in the transformation.

The expanding tourist traffic fuelled by a barrage of articles on Goa’s characteristically pungent cuisine, zestful lifestyle, flamboyant carnivals and stark architecture popularised Goa through the Eighties. The decision to hold the CHOGM conference there further focused attention on the then union territory. But apart from these factors it was the subtle nuances, brought to life by several talented Goan Christians living in Mumbai that spun a more exotic mystique around Goa.

Certainly the most prominent of these was the cartoonist Mario Miranda. Padma Bhushan awardee Miranda, was and continues to be enthralled by his native state. His bold strokes, lush, tropical scenery and bustling cast of characters not only created a fascinating vision of Goa but also portrayed life in his adopted home, Mumbai, as an extended village drama rather than an existence in a cold metropolis. Francis Newton Souza who died recently also displayed a strong Goan influence in his work. The controversial artist, who created a furore with an exhibition of nudes in Mumbai, wrote vociferously against the church, yet priests and religious icons were often the subject of his paintings.

Poets and writers also played their part even if it was to convey a negative sentiment. ‘‘When Goa was Goa/My grandfather says…….Even snakes bit/Only to break the monotony,’’ wrote Eunice de Souza poet and head of the department of English at Mumbai’s St Xavier’s College. Santan Rodrigues who came to Mumbai from Goa in the Sixties wrote so feelingly about home that the writer Aubrey Menon said he could visualise Goa through his poetry. Remo was another effective ambassador for Goa. The flamboyant musician who insisted on singing his own original compositions presented a younger, sexier vision — check out his Ocean Queen : ‘‘I saw her stepping out of the ocean/Wearing nothing but suntan lotion/And a shiny shiny silver snake belt around her waist.’’

But it was not just native Goans in Mumbai who managed to evoke palpably sensuous images of the neighbouring state. Nisha Da Cunha, a Gujarati married to a Goan, summoned up a world of stormy seas and forbidding matrons in lace mantillas in her sensitive short stories. In Trikaal, Shyam Benegal moved away from the green fields of rural India to penetrate the gloomy interiors of an ancient Goan house stuffed with family secrets and ornate furniture.

Mumbai’s favourite food writer and social commentator Behram Contractor played a hugely significant role in popularising Goan food outside Goa despite the very limited number of Goan eateries even in Mumbai. His daily column in its unpretentiousness and delight in the lighter side of things vividly illustrated by Mario’s drawings also had a strongly Goan flavour.

With their relative ease with the English language it was hardly surprising that Goan Christians made a mark in certain areas of Mumbai life. Sylvester and Rahul Da Cunha for instance became well known, the former in advertising, the latter for his association with the English theatre. Most people though would have pooh-poohed any suggestion of a strong community sentiment at the time.

The writer Dom Moraes for instance who grew up in Mumbai and London visited his native Goa for the first time only when he was 30 and does not believe he has a particularly Goan sensibility. He admits, however, that the Portuguese influence signified a higher degree of westernisation among his people. In fact the most striking feature about Mumbai’s celebrity Goan Christians was their apparent openness. Most had studied or worked abroad; many had married non Goans and with their sociableness were a fixture on the city’s cocktail circuit. At the same time though, an affection and ties with the home state were retained.

The internationally renowned architect Charles Correa designed the Kala Akademi and the Cidade de Goa resort. Civic activist Gersun Da Cunha’s reported attachment to his hometown has Dom Moraes jokingly visualise him managing the Goa Municipality. Mario Miranda and Frank Simoes left busy lives in Mumbai (Frank even closed shop refusing to sell his agency) to settle down there. Santan Rodrigues who balances a corporate career with poetry visits home as often as four times a year.

Over time, thanks to the imagery, the personalities and the hype – in various doses – a distinct Goan persona has emerged. ‘‘It was a new kind of Indian,’’ says Sylvester Da Cunha. ‘‘It was a personality that was westernised yet rooted and within the Indian context. Friendly, sociable, not chasing Mammon, maintaining that it is okay to RELAX.’’ It could be argued of course that this characterisation is a stereotype. It could also be argued that all communities have their own specially endearing qualities. The significant thing in this case is that the image has become larger than itself. Transcending community it has come to represent a certain way of life. A life that is about the sun, sea, feni, topless bathers, prawn balchao, midnight raves, dark churches, wild pigs and holidaymakers playing Mah Jong in the rain but also a life that is more permissive, less pretentious and a revolt against the urban rat race.

This collage of impressions has drawn millions of people to visit over the years and now, increasingly, to stay. Adman Bal Mundkar, designer Malini Ramani, former model Ranjeev Mulchandani, are just some of the many non Goans who have opted to make the state their home in the last decade or so. And the appeal is clearly growing if the popularity of the slick, unabashedly upper class film Dil Chahta Hai is any indication. In the film, the trendy, carefree heroes do not need any discussion or planning to head off to Goa when hit by the urge to chill. And even when they are older, wiser and happily married they return, drawn by its magnetic force. Clearly the mystique endures.