There are a few times when I see red and want to scream "bloody murder" at the top of my lungs… and then pretend I'm the latest killer on the block. And, as the hormones that trigger aggression in me threaten alarmingly, I wish I could do away with a few scenes in the movies that tend to depict Goans in a negative light. Like Janam Samjha Karo for example, which I went to see with my best friend on what promised to be a peaceful evening. The villain (Sadashiv Amrapurkar in this case), who is obviously not the best character in the movie, wears this big cross and goes about running my clan down by speaking bad Hindi and, of course, swigging from the bottle of hard liquor which is always near at hand. The person who made the film, it seems, does not know that only the Pope and members of the religious clergy are privileged to wear huge crosses. Besides, the symbol of a religion is supposed to be a gentle reminder of the values that one should imbibe. I would also like to believe that most Goans are not members of Alcoholic Anonymous for reasons beyond their control. So why misrepresent a state to portray a character who is both distasteful and repugnant? When I introduce myself, I am subtly aware that I have to fight the veil of predictability (the 'Oh! I can figure you out syndrome') and the celluloid flashbacks that cloud the vision of every new acquaintance. Sometimes, I wish I were the phlegmatic type -- calm and placid -- especially when encountering what I call 'stereotype abuse.' Many of us Goans are old-fashioned and do not identify with the racy tourist lifestyle. But being liberal and hospitable, we accept the vices that accompany commercial tourism, a vital source of bread and butter, and leave it at that. People like to believe that Goa is a Mecca for hedonists (and it may well be for some tourists). However, that wide definition, when extended to reflect even simple villagers who are far removed from the tourist scene, is certainly a misrepresentation. Goa, as an ideal tourist destination, has much more to offer than just rave parties and idyllic beaches for sunbathing. My memories of Goa are of cycling down to the beach for an early morning jog with my dog, and watching a beautiful sunrise. Of long summer nights spent celebrating a village feast, of dancing all night long to a live band with a big bunch of friends. Of the entertaining spats that fishermen often had in the bus, as I returned home from college. Of the ever so 'susegad' pace of life, of pigs and hens that wander in one's backyard. Of green fields in the monsoons and the wonderfully fresh and salty air of the beach. Of a little stream that gurgles its way down the hill near my home. Of the huge mango tree outside, where I have shed many a teenage tear in self-enforced, rebellious isolation, reading a book or pondering on the greater meaning of life. And of the generosity and hospitality that Goans extend to strangers in the true spirit of Goa. After reading the above and trying to do a critical analysis on my piece, I think I might be getting carried away in my fervor to defend my state. One can argue that the audience should be responsible enough to know the difference, that the media cannot be held responsible for these prejudiced views. But, then again, film-makers do need to be sensitive to these issues, especially when transmitting information to billions of viewers. I cannot silently suffer malicious barbs forever. Would you, if you were straitjacketed into a stereotype of such nature? Cleona Lira is thrilled about going home, to Goa, for Christmas Illustration: Dominic Xavier
HOME | NEWS | ELECTION 99 | BUSINESS | SPORTS | MOVIES | CHAT | INFOTECH | TRAVEL SINGLES | BOOK SHOP | MUSIC SHOP | HOTEL RESERVATIONS | MONEY EDUCATION | PERSONAL HOMEPAGES | FREE EMAIL | FEEDBACK