Apesar de ser mais difícil ler do que escrever, como diz PVG, este blog entra em férias pelo menos até inícios de 2012, enquanto eu me afundo cada vez mais nas águas turvas da tese.

Taste of India

"Gosawi is the mad man"
Ram confided to me
Up in the mountain
Stays a guruji

This is the taste of India
And these are some cutchilis
Ram stole a matchbox
and gave it to me.

Leaving Atish's flat on the 2nd January morning...

...after a light breakfast, I made my way into Vasco. At the train station, I was sold a Sleeper class ticket on waiting list no. 47 bound for Pune over the Ghats and was told not to worry.

I hurried back to Pangim and collected my savings from the Velho house and my laundry from the New Market. I rushed back on a pilot to Ribandar to pick up my luggage a directed the same pilot back to the train station in Vasco.

On the way we passed the village of Merces where I saw a stray dog sleeping on the pedestal of a votive cross. I took that as a sign of good omen for my coming odyssey through out the Northern Konkan.

In the overcrowded train, I was quite surprised to find my name on the ticket collector's list...especially since i was given an upper berth. In Londa, many people alighted and I managed to get some sleep after a simple pulao rice.

I arrived in Pune where my agent and friend Saurabh had informed me about the rikshaw strike...still, it wasn't difficult to hire one a bit further from the station who, for double the usual price, transported me happily to Salisbury Park.

Saurabh offered me water and an excellent bed to rest. I was going to need it before our journey together.

Breakfast with Mr. L on the 24th December morning...

...implied getting up at 04:20 in the morning to undertake the trip from Sai Baba Nagar to Road "A" behind Churchgate. Sanjeev came out with me and procured a taxi near the main drag. From there we raced down the Western Highway, passing close to places like Kandivali Candolim; Goregaon Goregão; Andheri Anderim; Vile Parle Irle-Parlem; Santacruz Santa Cruz; Bandra Bandorá; and so forth. Close to the S. Gandhi national park, the early morning midst felt cool and pleasant. later on, the stench raising from the Mahim creek was the right queue to break air without molesting my driver. When we entered "A" road, I woke up some night watchmen to pinpoint my benefactor's apartment building.

Mr. L. had obviously just got out of bed when I rang his door bell at 05:50. However, with a lungi tied round his waist and his hair slightly dishevelled, he was still the coolest secretary in the Maratha Government by far. And he ushered me into his living room outlooking towards the Arabian Sea.

I showed him my permission letters and some other paperwork. At the same time, he cooperated with his wife in serving me breakfast, including papaya, tangerine, onion-tomato uttapam, toasts and tea.

Time elapsed and my train was leaving shortly from VT. Mr. L. offered to drive me to the station on his car and came down with a special light to be fixed over the hood in order to make haste. However, another resident had parked in front of his car, obstructing it. Mr. L. then suggested we should grab a taxi. Walking a little beyond his building, we reached Churchgate, where a lot of cabbies stood their ground; however, none was keen to take us to VT, a very short distance away. Finally, at the fourth refusal, Mr. L. coolly mentioned to the driver something with the words "police", "Maratha government" etc. and we were on our way. As we stepped out of the cab at VT's gate, I had exactly three minutes to locate and board the Mandovi Express before its departure.

Mr. L. rushed in front of me carrying my white linen suit for Fernando's wedding and I followed close on his heels carrying my brown suitcase full of olive oil and gifts and my black mochila with the working material and paperwork. And so it was that we found the train in platform 17 and Mr. L. made sure I was set on my way to Goa, towards a different landscape and different food.

As I sat back on the berth and took a long breath in, I reflected upon those ten days in the great city of Mumbai. According to the best interpretations, the preliminary work for my Konkan Surveying Tour could be considered a success.

Manuel de Souza, a Goan from Saliago working in the Gulf, entertained me for the rest of my trip.

Recorrente

No início, o mar está sempre calmo, é inofesivo e silencioso. Depois de umas braçadas, começam a nascer as ondas, devagar, ondas engraçadas...depois crescem. Quando atingem os 4 ou 5 metros, a costa já está a quilómetros de distância, as pessoas e os guarda-sóis na praia já não se distinguem. E então as ondas levam-nos para o mais fundo do mar, em turbilhões de espuma e areia...finalmente o aquecimento global vingou. E então, começamos a reastejar lá em baixo, debaixo das águas, em direcção à praia, porque a água das ondas desapareceu...agora são apenas bolhas de oxigénio que fazem um barulho ensurdecedor ao quebrarem na areia. Na praia, a polícia inspecciona a disposição das toalhas, brinquedos, etc. E vamos ser multados - ou presos - porque está tudo um caos.

Segunda de Reentreé

Começou com uma manga para o pequeno-almoço seguida de uma deslocação aos correios de D. Pedro V. Sinceramente, não sei o que põem no café daquela malta, mas são todas de uma simpatia enternecedora. Seguiu-se uma viagem até Coimbra e encontro com algumas pessoas que já não via há muito. O prato social estava bastante aceitável nas azuis; seguiu-se o cafézinho lá em cima e uma tarde em frente ao computador. A caminho de Aveiro, o meu carro avariou na autoestrada e tive de esperar uma hora e meia pelo reboque. Entretanto, veio o tipo da Brisa que ainda ficou a conversar comigo durante um cigarro e uma olhadela ao motor. Jantar remeteu-se para perto da meia-noite. E assim começou mais uma temporada.

1999 - 2009

Manhãs Caídas

Quando te vieram prender,
Eu sei sem ninguém me ter contado,
Toda a tua coragem veio ao de cima
Enquanto se ofereciam copos de vinho

Quando friamente amanheceu,
Eu sei sem ninguém me ter contado,
A morte não te conseguiu prender
Apesar de teres ido com ela.

(Agosto de 2009)

The famous tout of Jodhpur

is about 10 years old and not higher than my wasteline. He comes straight at you, eyeing you like a kill in a weird and twisted safari. He then tries to lead you inside any of the numerous shops that line up the main drags of the old town. He's a freelancer - he has no allegiance to a particular shopowner and probably gets a general commission from the whole neighbourhood or from the older and shop-based touts. He speaks fluent english and is aware of the tourist's basic needs - shopping and water.
And if you see him in Jodhpur, you know just where you stand.

Nahargarh fort...

...is one of the closest to Jaipur and a favourite "time-pass" place for the city's teenagers. The luckier ones take their sweethearts with them on the bike. Up amongst the fort's shrubs and trees, the young couples steal a smooch or two, away from the conservative stares of Jaipur's families.
The cops, once in a while, set up a road block at the foot of hill to stop the couples approaching by bike. Demanding that the girl remove her head scarf and shades to be identified - and thus be exposed together with her indecent behaviour - they threaten her with a forced ride home and a reprimand to ther parents. And they only back down after some baksheesh.

Cops and young couples become therefore involved in a romantic / immoral corruption scheme. The male loverboy would be wise not to haggle with cops before his sweetie.

BBB in da house

Foto by Vivek Menezes, 2009

eu demito -me

tu demites -te

ele demite -se

nós demitimo s -nos

vós demitei s -vos

eles demitem -se

(não é nada fácil...)

E agora, tudo a fazer chifres!

Tomates de Macaco(s)

http://remainsofthedesi.wordpress.com/2009/06/26/monkey-impersonator-hired-to-scare-monkeys-in-lucknow-train-station/

Camadas do Vasco

E a documentação do restauro (1957)

António faz 18

Fernando (=superman) em grande!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dw-ZUTSpIvc&feature=related

Maturna

Antes dela, tu
Já pisavas estas vagas
Que quase nos embalam

E tu, e tu,
Em vão procuram
Ainda os cais que nos chamam

Nos teus olhos a fundura
Nos teus cabelos o vento
Dos vazios que permanecem.

Junho, 2009

arrumação primária

Os voos das moscas em suspensão no meio da sala lembraram-me as aulas de fisica-química, quando me tentavam explicar a natureza do movimento dos electrões. Falámos um pouco sobre a correspondência familiar e as plantas do quintal. Agora, é altura de arrumar de a casa.

Back to da house