Glimpses of India - 'A Baker From Goa' by Lucia Rodriguez

 About the text:

            The chapter, 'A Baker From Goa', is a nostalgic trip to the journey of the Goan bakers, their contribution in Goan culture, and the memories the people of Goa (the narrator) have made with them. The chapter talks about Goan's love for bread (right from the times of Portuguese's invasion of Goa until now), the description of the lifestyle of these bakers, their daily schedule, and their inevitable contribution in making the Goan life exclusive.

Summary:

            It's been a long time since the Portuguese left Goa, but their love for bread, those old furnaces and the old-aged style paders have become an inseparable part of Goa.

            The pader would carry a bamboo in one hand and a big basket of bread on his head. He would place the basket on the vertical bamboo. His bamboo thudding would be a wake-up alarm for young children. Paskine or Baskine (the maidservant of the house) would bring the bread from the pader who would arrive at the house door. However, the bread bangles and sweet bread were special to the kids. The kids would be so excited to relish the bread that they would not brush their teeth.

            Goan marriages are meaningless without a special bread called 'bol'. On the daughter's engagement, the lady of the house would prepare sandwiches. Cakes and bolhinas for Christmas and other festivals are a must. Thus, the presence of the baker's furnace in the village is essential.

            In those days, the baker used to wear a special dress 'kabai' - a single-piece long frock reaching down to the knees. But in recent times, the bakers started wearing a shirt and three fourth sized trousers. Even now, anyone who wears such a trouser in Goa is funnily called pader.

            The monthly credit of the baker would be written with a pencil on the house wall, and the baker would collect his money by the end of the month. In the old days, baking was a profitable profession, and the baker and his family would look so plump that people would say that the bakers do not starve at all. Even today, any person with the jackfruit-like physique is compared to a baker.

Vocabulary:

§  Pader: It is a name given to the bakers to Goa. Bakers have been called as Pader since the time of the Portuguese rule in Goa.

§  Kabai: It is the peculiar dress the bread-seller of those days would wear. It was a single-piece long frock reaching down to the knees.

§  Bol: It is a special kind of sweet bread made as marriage gifts.

§  Bread-bangles: A round-shaped bread with a hole in the middle. It looks like a donut.

§  Bolhinas: The cookies

§  Jackfruit-like appearance: Fat, plump.

Questions-Answers:

Explain the following lines:

1)      'Those age-old, time-tested furnaces still exist. The fire in the furnaces have not been extinguished.'

            The culture of bakery products and the bakers that was brought to India by the Portuguese is still alive in Goa. The bakery products, especially bread, is loved by all. There are people who are still working as the mixers, the moulders and the bakers. There are ancient, time-tested furnaces still exist in Goa.

2)      Who would take the trouble of plucking the mango-leaf for the toothbrush? And why was it necessary? The tiger never brushed his teeth.

The children in the house would meet the pader twice a day: once in the morning and once in the evening when the pader would come with an empty basket after selling all his bread. Early morning, the thudding sound of his bamboo would make the kids wake up in excitement. They would climb a bench or a parapet to peep in the basket. They would be so excited to eat their favourite sweet bread and bread bangles that they would not even care to brush their teeth. While asked the reasons for not brushing the teeth, they would reply that the tigers don't brush the teeth.

3)      The presence of the baker's furnace in the village is absolute essential.

The bakers are an essential part of Goan culture. Whether it is a marriage ceremony where the sweet bread bol is made, or the daughter's engagement where sandwiches are made, or any festival like Christmas where cakes and bolinhas are prepared, it requires a baker's furnace in the village.

4)      Even today, anyone who wears a half pant which reaches just below the knees invites the comment that he is dressed like a pader!

Paders were the bread-seller who used to wear a shirt and trousers which were shorter than full-length ones and longer than half pants. Even today, when anyone who wears a half-pant which reaches just below the knees is jokingly called as pader.

5)      Even today, any person with a jackfruit-like physical appearance is easily compared to a baker.

Baking was a profitable business. The baker, his family and his servants would earn a lot of money. They would always look happy and prosperous. The would have a plump (fat) physique which was an open testimony to their prosperity. Thus, any person, who has a jackfruit-like (fat) physique is compared to a baker.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

U - TURN

During the lockdown, I had almost forgotten that my bike servicing was due. Today, early morning, I went to the service station and gave my bike. On my way back home, I had to book an OLA cab. 

As a habit, I sat next to the driver, and to my surprise, he was Sandesh Waghmare, a college friend. We both were happy to see each other after 15 years. After conversing about family and old friends and after avoiding Modi Vs Rahul debate, when he came to know about me (that I am the Principal of a school), I could see his eyes sparkle with delight, but he could not control the words that came out of his mouth, "You are doing extremely well, and I am in this mess. Fate. Nothing more."

Sandesh was a left-handed batsman in our college and was very famous for his winning sixes. I was never successful in taking his wicket during practice sessions. While chatting over a tea, Sandesh would hold the cigarette in the corner of his lips and would imitate Ajay Devgan's Malik from the movie Company, and would say, "This cricket is just for fun. I want to be a PSI. Police Sub Inspector." We had seen him working hard for his dream. He was the first one to come to the college ground. Till the time we arrived, he would bathe in sweat. Even after exercising for almost one and a half hour, he would be left with enough energy to hit the balls out of boundaries. Long jump, volleyball, kabaddi, kho-kho and whatnot, he participated and was excellent in all the sports. 

During exam times, he would bribe me for Kheema Paav, and while sitting in the canteen, I would help him learn English and Mathematics. He would say, "I would pass the Physical test for PSI very easily, but Amit, only you can help me pass the written test. You are very good at Maths." Laughingly, I would say, "You can't do it. You are good for nothing." 

All these memories flashed like a bullet train in front of my eyes. 

He might have realized that I would ask him about his dream of becoming a PSI and mock him, so he said, "You know I wanted to be a PSI. In 2006, riots broke in Maharashtra due to Khairlanji massacre - the massacre that witnessed the atrocity against Dalits and the deaths of four. They have been doing this to us since ages. They couldn't see that our people are getting education and are becoming officers. They burnt the entire family alive. That time, in Uttar Pradesh, Babasaheb's statue was vandalized. This very news was enough for me to come on the streets asking for justice. We gathered at the Collector's Office near Pune Station. We were shouting slogans with our blue flags in hands. Things turned worst and we got arrested - arrested for protesting, arrested for asking for the justice. I was in custody for two days. My bail was granted."

"For the next two years, I worked hard for the PSI exam, attended the classes as well. I was an inch closer to my dream, but when I was asked to submit a character certificate and police verification certificate, I was proven as the defaulter. My application to appear for the exam was rejected; not once but for forever."

He paused for a while. I could listen to him sniffing a tear. How it feels to see your dreams getting destroyed, I experienced its horror's into that 30  seconds silence in the cab. 

After dropping me at my society's gate, I asked him to come for a tea, but he refused by saying, "Next time." I saw his cab disappearing behind the society walls. 

I still could feel the silence. To gather myself up, I sat on the garden bench, and I remembered. 

"December 2006. I too was angry when I heard about the Khairlanji Massacre and the news of Babasaheb's statue vandalized in Uttar Pradesh. I too left my house in anger, took my bike, and went to join the protest. I too felt like burning the entire city down with the same fire that was burning inside me, making me more explosive with each passing moment. Suddenly I realized that I had to submit my B.Ed. practicals and I was left with hardly any time. The books borrowed from the library were due the next day. I took a u-turn, and came home to study."

When I sit in my armchair and think about this event, I ask myself a question, "Who was right? Sandesh or me?" I think we both were right. 

But who was wrong then? I would say, "System - the same system that promotes such incidents like Khairlanji and vandalizing of Babasaheb's statue. The same system that makes sure that we, the people of marginalized sections of the society come on the roads for our rights. The same system that then arrests us and put us behind bars. The same system that has crushed thousands of dreams, thousands of Sandeshs' careers. 

Sandesh was a driver now, and not a PSI, but now, there is less sympathy and more respect for him. 

Author - Amit Kharat

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