Then and now

Then and now

A Story by poetry-kiddo alienbaba
"

How I grew up where I did

"

Then and now...


well...the youngest thing i remember doing is gathering dried pig-poo and cow dung (serious)
from the village fields my Grammy and I.....just like dad did when he wuz young.......so my granny must`v`e been really poor to do such work....we dried the stuff real good and sold it as fuel to the villagers....
i even recollect a red-toy engine of a train...it must`ve been wind-up kinda toy...discarded in a garbage bin...that wuz my first toy.....i picked it up and took it home...mustve been 4 or 5 years then but definitely not 6.
Great granny had had the ancestral maternal house constructed with thick mud/clay walls with salivated-wheat gum and rubble-late rite stones...and coconut tree-trunks split into vertical fours, for the roof...
the tiles were curved and small...locally made....
just our house and the house of the Portuguese priests stood side by side next to the compound of the 400 year old chapel of St.Peter, now called Our lady of the Rosary chapel...
just that...and the hill touching our backyard...and the sea.....lapping the rice-fields just beyond the Chapels`
property...in fact all the village land..including ours had been gifted to the chapel by one landlord Sot to-Mayor...centuries ago....and the fisher folk had their homes half way inside the sea...a mile of from the high tide line.....until the great Tsunami came some 50 years ago and changed the coastline and topography of the region forever...as a result all the homes were reclaimed by the sea.....the occasional glimpse of the
barrier-moor built by the ancient villagers ....with further basements of the broken homes...a mute testimony to that wild-night....only witnessed at absolute low-tide...
so those folk came inland and started living amidst us.....a grand confrontation of antagonists.......
but my great-Grammy stood her ground as did Grammy and dad was bought up with humble education..
became a banker on day-time contract and a milk-man during twilight....
i was the village music-mascot....and went on to represent the State...don't hold that kind of pull now...
sometimes when i was hungry....i used to drink sun-heated hot water to distract the gastric juices...gently discouraging them from eating away at my stomachs delicate linings....avoiding ulcers ..if only for a few hours more...
other days...green guavas with the black-spot virus would suffice to make a meal....
my state GOA has been liberated from Portuguese rule after 456 years....
i am a son of the soil...true blooded -poor Goan..
Indian?
India is the country which surrounds us on 3 sides...of which we have been made a part of....
though choice was given to my state to be a liberated country.
we speak a language known as KONKANNI...and are raised on the English language.
Hindi is India's national language and most Goans don't know it so well....
The average Goan can never identify with the rest of India......
the Portuguese left behind their customs, religion, joy for life and culture.....
so you see.....we are kinda diff. from the rest...
it also left behind an irritating strain of the Portuguese Philosophy....that's why i sometimes write miles on here.....

The tallest building is 11 storeys. One can traverse the state in 12 hours end-to end by bus.
the coastline is pristine and clear, one airport...another one scheduled....
a democratic state with a legislative assembly...
Hinduism is the main religion, followed by various sects of Christianity, then Muslim, Parsi and ...whoever...came last/...
Our Police force is strong enough to handle external problems...but infighting amongst villages...now that's a difficult task to accomplish...tear-gas that the last resort...or lathi-charging...cant blame them too...its a tough job awright...when the going gets tough the Military takes over...or the Navy's patrolling the Arabian Sea.
now one of these days a Submarine from China might come one fine stormy night and blast the living daylights outta my village which has access to the Indian ocean...from the Arabian sea...just 400 metres from my house...and then its gonna be a big-shame...cuz my people are just to lazy to even think of a potential attack....
Russia has claimed their fair share of beach-beds in the north....Israel in the north-east part...
English in the centre and U.S in the south....boy its gonna be a big-party...
and property is being bought like Popeye buys Spinach....land is cheap...
the farmers ain't workin in fields....they are sellin.....booze and cigarettes to the huge tourist population...

Me...i can just negotiate in non-violent terms....
and find solace here at the forum amidst good-souls

© 2011 poetry-kiddo alienbaba


Author's Note

poetry-kiddo alienbaba
A trip down memory land and back again

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Reviews

Well said. Very.

Chris

Posted 12 Years Ago


I love your trip down memory lane. Thanks for sharing with us.

Posted 12 Years Ago


A son of the soil...I can relate to that...living close to the soil is the path to peace...sounds as if that peaceful relationship is being taken away. I'd be happy to live the life you described from your childhood. This is an eye opening story.

Posted 12 Years Ago


damn, my friend, you've come a long long way, what a great peice. love history and biographies

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

An enjoyable piece. Well done.

Posted 12 Years Ago


I enjoyed this read too - It was fun and lovely. (:

Posted 12 Years Ago


That's fun :) I liked reading it its good

Posted 12 Years Ago


good poem. Lucie

Posted 12 Years Ago


Thank you for sharing this journey with us.. For just a slight moment my feet were yours.. Excellent write..xx

Posted 12 Years Ago



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Added on July 24, 2011
Last Updated on July 24, 2011

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poetry-kiddo alienbaba
poetry-kiddo alienbaba

Shambala, North



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