As I'm not a historian, the word is mum on the history of Goa. But, as a Goan, I need to say something; it is in my genes, I cannot shut up! If we Goans could shut up then we would all be Buddhists by now, wouldn't we?
Gautama Buddha after his enlightenment did not utter a single word for days! He later said: Truth cannot be communicated through words, logic or debate. Is it any wonder the Way of the Buddha disappeared from our country and his seed took root and even flowered in fertile soil all around the world? God bless Goa's Kosambi our greatest Buddhist intellectual (even though Buddhists don't believe in God!) I'm not a professional psychologist either. As I said earlier, a Goan cannot shut up. I have studied the subject on my own, though. Do I get any credit for it? Never mind, I'm a Goan who loves to play games (except for soccer, of course.) As the wag from Ponda observed "Why fight over one ball? Give every player one each." The witty wag I cannot help but notice is even less of a psychologist than I am: if we ban soccer there will be war! Anyway, here goes. As an observer of Goan affairs (I could not think of a more pompous word so it will have to do!) looking back as far as I can, during the Portuguese era we Roman Catholics cushioned up to the fair-skinned Westerners and were soon in bed with them. As a result of our labors of love, the fruit of our loins was much appreciated by the Portuguese, having a much higher value than other fruit available in the market. The other fruit, no doubt, were bitter and a divide was born and nurtured over the centuries. As is to be expected, the hybrid fruit were dipped in holy water while the indigenous fruit were washed in the Mandovi and Zuari rivers. The two rivers in our days of glory were clean and unpolluted by oil and development and other unmentionables from boats and gambling casinos. Nowadays, the hybrid and the indigenous fruits do not look favorably on the two rivers. Furthermore, the indigenous fruit do not like the flavor and taste of the hybrid fruit - the latter had a privileged upbringing as the owner of the field was their protector and patron saint. With the departure of the Portuguese, air (fresh air?) from India began to flow into Goa. While this was something new and an occasion to celebrate for the indigenous fruit, the hybrid fruit were uprooted and felt robbed of their heritage. They started to lose their sweetness and there was a little taste of bitterness. With their master and original owner of the fields gone, their roots started to wither and, sometimes, even died. Some fruit trees choose to be transplanted abroad, mostly in the fertile Western soil. With climate change and other negative factors it did not always make for a happy ending to the story of the hybrid fruit. You see, during the Portuguese era, there was enough sunshine and rain, the sort which helped the hybrid give tasty and lovely fruit. Nothing lasts forever, does it? After the end of colonialism, the hybrid fruit had to learn to stand for themselves without any support, to be rooted deeply in the new soil, and to cooperate with each other, something they had never done during the colonial era. They were, on the contrary, always competing with each other to be the choice of their master, to occupy the numero uno seat on his right side. Unfortunately, learning to cooperate among themselves soon appeared to be something the top quality hybrid fruit could not do well and, as a result of a lack of cooperation, the hybrid fruit gradually weakened, much to the delight of the indigenous fruit. The two prized fruit, jack and the other which I now cannot recall at the moment, started the non-cooperation movement of a sort in Goa. It has grown from strength to strength and is extremely popular to this day. So much for the history of the hybrid fruit, the star of which is none other than jackfruit! After this, good times began for the indigenous fruit. But, not for everyone! If there is a great divide between the hybrid and the indigenous fruits, there is also a sub-caste among the indigenous fruit. Some species of fruit are more equal than others, unfortunately. Farmers and fishermen, for example, are at the bottom of the stairway leading up to the Brahim heaven. They are, in short, not delicious fruit and are an unwanted variety of low-caste fruit in the hierarchy of the modern Indian economy. The poor quality fruit during the Portuguese era and after political independence are now in contentious water or in a field where the soil is not good enough. Not much of a life for them. The low-quality fruit did not fetch much of a price during the Portuguese era, and although air from India blows strongly into Goa, these two varieties of fruit are unable to reach fruition. The ground and water is only for upper caste fruit and to power the wheels of development, not for low-caste fruit. For low-quality fruits during colonialism and after, there has been little change for the better.