Come December

Ben Antao

(From the Navhind Times, June 12, 1964)

There ought to be something wrong with Goans--the ones that live outside Goa. Else, how do you explain this mad influx of so-called holiday seekers who choose the month of May to pitch their tents all over the coastline?

I am no iconoclast but it is time somebody spoke up and tore this flimsy veil of romance woven round the fifth month of the calendar.

Goa is not a hill station like Matheran or Mahableshwar, though it approximates to one in the months of December, January and February. Granted it has lots of natural beauty like serene meandering rivulets, tall swaying palms, glorious sunset, wooded hills, surf-dappled beaches, quivering Mimosa plants...all this and more Goa abounds in.

But man does not live on Nature alone, but also on bread. And here lies the snag.

I may be in the minority of one, but I cannot imagine a more inadequate or worse month for a holiday in Goa than May--sultry weather, lack of good fish and water and beef and poultry and pork. The few friends and relatives told me as I bid them bon voyage at the Panjim jetty last week that they had had a wonderful time in Goa this May. I took this as no more than a gesture of courtesy but they lingered a while and appeared sad at the prospect of having to leave their
homeland.

Said Ralph: "I shall never forget my stay in Goa this year. The barrels of beer I drank, the number of whist drives, love at Calangute beach...oh, it was a hectic month and I never felt more alive or happier before."

"What charming folks you Goans are!" exclaimed my non-Goan friend who had come to Goa for the first time. "I want to talk it over with my wife, but I have made up my mind. I want to have a Goan son-in-law," he winked as he clasped my hand in a firm handshake.

Hard as I tried not to add a discordant note to their sweet symphony of eulogies, I could not help it. "I am glad you’ve enjoyed your holiday in Goa," I replied rather half-heartedly. "But I’m sorry you came in at a time of the year when I could not offer you the best.

Fish had been most scarce and pigs and poultry consumed by the death sickness of March. No holiday is complete, to my mind anyway, without good food."

"Oh, it did not matter really," my friends said in a chorus. "We enjoyed ourselves nevertheless, and we thank you very much for making our stay as comfortable as can be."

"Still, I invite you all again, preferably this December, not only because of the Exposition of the remains of St. Francis Xavier, but even from a holiday point of view, December is ideal. There may not be malcorada mangoes, but you could all do without them,
couldn't you?"

"Why not?"

submitted to TGF by  Ben Antao May 12, 2002