Having come across an invitation from the Reader’s Digest to all its readers in their June 2005 issue for one's personal story of inspiration, I thought to myself, 'what better place to begin than at the beginning where it had all started?' So, PDA in hand, at precisely 8.00am one Saturday, I walked down my street along with school-going children, right up to the imposing Portuguese building of the convent where I had studied from Kindergarten through High School.
As it turned out, it was a trip down memory lane. Standing there in the light drizzle on that June morning, I was transported back in time to another dark, wet and cloudy morning in June 1974, the first day of my last year at school. On that memorable day, at the stroke of the school bell, a young nun had come bustling into the classroom with the brightest of smiles we'd ever seen, bursting with energy and enthusiasm, rearing to go! She introduced herself and announced that she would be our Class Teacher. She came over to each one of us and got us to introduce ourselves.
When finally we had all settled down, she opened her textbook and asked the class, “What do you know about William Wordsworth?” With a straight face, I stood up and said, “His words are worth listening to!”
And then everyone burst out laughing! Our team was born that instant! When I paid her a courtesy call recently, she said she still remembers it after over 30 years! To this day, the class of '75 draws inspiration from her vibrant personality.
As I walked down the hallway and through the corridors, the laughter echoing in the recesses of my mind, it dawned upon me that there were quite a few elements about my Alma Mater that still served as wellsprings of inspiration for me: The chapel, where I had played my guitar for the first time in June ‘74 and developed my skills in the art of song-writing; the Christmas-tree, in the cloistered garden, which still seems to be growing - living proof that there is no limit to growth despite varying environmental conditions; the twin steeples which let me know from the window of a taxi cruising along the river bank on my return from an outstation business trip, that I am already home; the night-sky over the convent-the only place left in town where I can see stars that still look the same as they were when I gazed upon them with the eyes of a child as I still do; the convent bell that rings every evening at Angelus, reminding me that not a day goes by without the nuns kneeling in prayer before the statue of Our Lady of Fatima beseeching her to intercede for all the children that have ever passed through the portals of the school.
Paradoxically, it is here in the past that I return to in body, mind and soul each time I have to take my next step into a world that is at times dark, wet and cloudy.
The rain had stopped and the sun was out when I finally stepped out onto the busy street, PDA in hand, with not a word on its shiny glass screen but only the reflection of my brightly smiling face. It said it all!
Bridge Across Troubled Waters!
MAN RAISES AND NATURE RAZES BUT THE HUMAN SPIRIT RISES UP EACH TIME!
Come rain or shine, these 2 colonial siblings – Damao Grande & Damao Pequeno - are inseparable! In fact, the river Daman Ganga is looked upon as a mother embracing her 2 children under the watchful eye of San Jeronimo with his 2 giants and a dog guarding the Gate of the Damão Pequeno fort.
On the 20th of June 2004, Damão Grande & Damão Piqueno reached out their little hands (Damao in Portuguese means ‘Give me your hand!’) once again towards each other at the inaugural function when the newly repaired bridge was thrown open to the public.
The evening air was jubilant with never-ending motorcades, the headlamps turned on and horns blowing non-stop; throngs of people crossed over from both sides with even our colonial cousins from Silvassa and Dadra & Nagar Haveli joining in!
A startling revelation was that the flow of humanity, oblivious to the new bridge, proceeded triumphantly across it without even a pause, right through the streets of Damão meeting fellow Damanese and exchanging pleasantries like it was New Year’s Day!
It is this bonding that the people of Daman have, irrespective of caste or creed, which is unbreakable and has withstood the test of time. After all, everyone has been ‘baptized’ in the waters of the Daman Ganga!
The bridge came down again only 2 months later in August 2004 due to torrential rains and man seems to have given up this time around but nothing seems to ever dampen the spirit of the people of Daman.
Copyright © 2005 Noël Gama
http://www.noelgama.com
Come rain or shine, these 2 colonial siblings – Damao Grande & Damao Pequeno - are inseparable! In fact, the river Daman Ganga is looked upon as a mother embracing her 2 children under the watchful eye of San Jeronimo with his 2 giants and a dog guarding the Gate of the Damão Pequeno fort.
On the 20th of June 2004, Damão Grande & Damão Piqueno reached out their little hands (Damao in Portuguese means ‘Give me your hand!’) once again towards each other at the inaugural function when the newly repaired bridge was thrown open to the public.
The evening air was jubilant with never-ending motorcades, the headlamps turned on and horns blowing non-stop; throngs of people crossed over from both sides with even our colonial cousins from Silvassa and Dadra & Nagar Haveli joining in!
A startling revelation was that the flow of humanity, oblivious to the new bridge, proceeded triumphantly across it without even a pause, right through the streets of Damão meeting fellow Damanese and exchanging pleasantries like it was New Year’s Day!
It is this bonding that the people of Daman have, irrespective of caste or creed, which is unbreakable and has withstood the test of time. After all, everyone has been ‘baptized’ in the waters of the Daman Ganga!
The bridge came down again only 2 months later in August 2004 due to torrential rains and man seems to have given up this time around but nothing seems to ever dampen the spirit of the people of Daman.
Copyright © 2005 Noël Gama
http://www.noelgama.com
Candle-light Vigil
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| Big Daman Cemetery - dusk, November 1st |
All Saints’ Day observed by Christians on the 1st of November is also the eve of All Souls’ Day morphing solemnity with somberness as, come dusk, the church bells begin to toll while the congregation silently winds its way to the cemetery to light candles at the gravesites of their dear ones.
I have participated in this ritual for decades but last year, I accidentally stumbled upon a custom unknown to most of the people of my hometown, Daman! As I cruised down a lane called Badrapor that night, I noticed through the swirling fog that most houses had brightly burning candles on their front porches. Here was an uncanny similarity to what I had read in my French textbook in school, about the way All Souls’ Day was commemorated in the countryside of France. But there was no French connection in this erstwhile Portuguese colony of Damão. Could there possibly be a chance this custom had somehow found its way to tiny Badrapor, which was the landing ground for the Portuguese over 400 years back? How come the rest of the population of Daman so steeped in custom and tradition was not even aware of this?
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| Badrapor, Big Daman - Dusk, November 1st |
As I settled behind the wheel of my car on that serene November night, I could suddenly see the spirit behind such customs and traditions, the flesh and blood of the surreal. I could not help but look up at the star-studded sky for a flitting moment and then beyond into eternity as my lips whispered those three little words that my soul was saying – R.I.P.
Copyright © 2005 Noël Gama
http://www.noelgama.com
The Song of Daman
Let me introduce you to Daman with the lyrics of a song I wrote dedicated to my home-town:-
DAMÃO
This is the story of Damão
My sweet little home-town
And if you are a visitor
You’re bound to hear it somehow
For the talk of the town, is the town itself
The story is short you’ll see
But it sure is the best place
In the whole world for you to be
‘Da Mao’ is Portuguese for ‘handshake’
Peaceful people we are
We still make lots of salt dear
Down by the riverside
In Damão we are all good friends
And related to one another
We all do great business dear
In the name of personal favour
Many wonder, ‘why do we need
The little light-house at all?’
With 350 bars my friend
Daman’s the world’s wettest place
We have three wonders which please don’t miss
The jig-saw puzzle over the creek
Is nothing but an upside down
Three-piece, rusty, old, hanging bridge
The old fort which could never be
Invaded from the outside
Is now being invaded dear
Righta from the inside
The aquarium’s rare fishes, caught
From the Daman Ganga River
On the brink of extinction have earned
The distinction of ‘endangered species’
And last, but not the least dear
We too have our share of beaches
Devka Beach and Jampore dear
Sister-concerns of Singapore
So can’t you see, we are self-sufficient
And just to make it more convenient
We have our own currency dear
Which is strongly anti-apartheid!
Noel Gama
Daman
4.5.89
Copyright © 1989 Noël Gama
http://www.noelgama.com
DAMÃO
This is the story of Damão
My sweet little home-town
And if you are a visitor
You’re bound to hear it somehow
For the talk of the town, is the town itself
The story is short you’ll see
But it sure is the best place
In the whole world for you to be
‘Da Mao’ is Portuguese for ‘handshake’
Peaceful people we are
We still make lots of salt dear
Down by the riverside
In Damão we are all good friends
And related to one another
We all do great business dear
In the name of personal favour
Many wonder, ‘why do we need
The little light-house at all?’
With 350 bars my friend
Daman’s the world’s wettest place
We have three wonders which please don’t miss
The jig-saw puzzle over the creek
Is nothing but an upside down
Three-piece, rusty, old, hanging bridge
The old fort which could never be
Invaded from the outside
Is now being invaded dear
Righta from the inside
The aquarium’s rare fishes, caught
From the Daman Ganga River
On the brink of extinction have earned
The distinction of ‘endangered species’
And last, but not the least dear
We too have our share of beaches
Devka Beach and Jampore dear
Sister-concerns of Singapore
So can’t you see, we are self-sufficient
And just to make it more convenient
We have our own currency dear
Which is strongly anti-apartheid!
Noel Gama
Daman
4.5.89
Copyright © 1989 Noël Gama
http://www.noelgama.com
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