Bombay is a place most Goans got to for a career or education. Many make it their home. SUEZELLE D’COSTA from Cuncolim is one of them. A media professional, she starts her fortnightly column A GOAN IN BOMBAY.
When I was a kid, my dad convinced me to speak English asKonkani would not take me very far. I'm glad I paid heed to his words, but alteredhis statement. Learning a new language is never a waste. So, in an Englishmedium school, I talked to my classmates in Konkani and conversed with myteachers in English. Now in Mumbai there is no distinction. If you're a Goanand if you know Konkani, that's our language.
Last year when I visited Goa, I happened to meet a collegefriend. I greeted her with a smile. However, she chose to start a conversation.It started by enquiring about my health and Mumbai -- all in English. I grabbeda chance and replied in Konkani. She then asked me how I was faring at work --again in English. All is good, I said in Konkani. And like this we continuedour part English-part Konkani chat. It annoyed me how she didn't realise that Iwas interested in talking in Konkani. In my opinion, she had subscribed to theidea that I could have possibly forgotten my mother tongue when I shifted toMumbai. Darling, you got that wrong!
Initially, I was shy to talk to any Goan in Konkani. I neveruttered a word that didn't sound like English. But gradually, I made myselfcomfortable and hugged the language I had abandoned in the first two years ofmy stay in Mumbai.
Today, any Goan I meet can't escape my Konkani. And mindyou, it's quite fluent. My Konkani is what my grandmother would call it --Sashtti Konkani. It's rounded and definitely doesn't sound like Marathi. I callit the proper Goans' perfect Konkani.
Apart from speaking the language, I also like to listen toKonkani kantaram composed and sung by Lorna, Olavo, Lynx to name a few. This isnot all. My sister and I love watching tiatrs. So as and when we can, wededicate a couple of hours of this traditional Goan drama. Till date, Irecognize fish in Konkani. Remember Rechaad Bangdo (Mackeral)? Also, I knowSangot (cat fish), Mori (Indian Dog Shark), Bombil (Bombay Duck), Surmai (Sheerfish) and this list can go on.
This should suggest that I'm still in touch with the lingo.My father was right when he said I wouldn't reach too far if I was fluent inonly one language. How far could I go with Konkani in a city like Mumbai? It'snot all that similar to Marathi to get away with. And I need English to live inMumbai. But why am I deprived of Konkani when I go to Goa?
If when in Rome, do as the Romans do, when in Goa, do as theGoans do. Relax, make sure you've taken your siesta, sip on some beer or feni,and talk to me in Konkani. I'm returning from Mumbai, not America.
P.S. My Konkani is not dying a slow death. It's alive andkicking.
