My Village is My Home! H-E-L-L-L-L-L-P!!!
Whoever is listening: Please help save my village! I once called the Village of Moira, home. It was clean; it was green; it was airy -- like most homes are; and it was healthy to live in. It had playgrounds, grazing grounds, little groves of forest, orchards, open pastures, water-bodies and rivulets. And yes -- Moira bananas! People actually went bananas over Moira bananas. That's how the legend grew! We've become the Gotham of Goa and proud of it too! Benaulim is a distant second. But seriously: We are in a crisis situation: Cultivated lands lie fallow. Many homes are empty and even abandoned. Squatters have merrily moved into some. Monstrous structures and high-density homes are randomly constructed in fields and meadows. Demographics have changed. Few newcomers know the customs, the flavours and the unwritten code of the village. They even choose not to know their neighbours! It is sad. The most visible (and odious!) sign of degradation of normal life is the garbage. It is brazenly scattered all over in the open and even dumped into the rivers. Unless we hold ourselves in check, the scene can become very ugly. Ten years ago the Communidade of Moira took heed of the problem of garbage disposal and set aside a plot of land to deal with it. A vigilant Sarpanch, of-and-for the people, submitted a viable project for the approval of the Goa Pollution Control Board. The project was approved but politics intervened. Ground has yet to be broken for the project to move ahead. As a stop-gap, really mad-cap measure, a new plan has been adopted: 'Community garbage bins' have been located at some 'strategic' points of the village; one of them is right next to my home. The instinct is to fling the garbage in the general direction of the garbage bin. This exercise becomes a bit more difficult when one hand is engaged in holding one's nose and the other is on the steering wheel, or the handle-bar of a two wheeler. But you cannot blame anyone for not trying! At 88, I am passed the age of protest, but I can wield a garden rake. So I muster the courage to get off my rocking chair, don a pair of disposable gloves and get on with it. Though I am not regular, I've seen a couple of positives: A young man stopped his two-wheeler, put it on stand and took the rake from my hands. I thanked him profusely. A young lady wearing a face-mask, stopped her scooter but politely refused my offer to dispose of her gift-bag in the bin. She said what sounded like 'thank you' through her mask. The worker on the garbage van expressed his gratitude when I warned him of the danger of picking up a broken tube light. People generally are good hearted; but garbage in Goa can make anybody mad. Not just Moidecars. Nazar da Silva 709 Sataporio, Moira Goa 403507 Phone: +91-832-2470290 nazardasi...@gmail.com