[Goanet] A Reminiscent Tour of Mapusa Town in the 1950's - Part I

[domnic fernandes]

A Reminiscent Tour of Mapusa Town in the 1950’s – Part I
During the Portuguese regime, Goa was divided into three main parts – 
Bardez, Salcete and Ilhas or Tiswadi.  The name ‘Bardêz’ is derived from 
Bará-dês, signifying twelve (12) “dessaíados”, or small feudal centers that 
after undergoing various dominations came under the Portuguese State.  In 
the absence of transportation, people were confined to each of the 
above-mentioned parts.  In fact, it was difficult, if not impossible, to 
travel from one village to the other.

In the middle of the last century when I grew up, the majority of Goans 
worked and lived for the day.  People tilled fields and grew rice and all 
kinds of cereals and vegetables and were quite self-sufficient.  There was 
no electricity in Goa except in cities.  The word ‘technology’ was alien to 
Goa.  The Africanders (Goans who worked in Africa) who returned to Goa in 
the 1960’s, brought along with them ‘Electrolux’ brand kerosene-based 
refrigerators; until then we had not seen a refrigerator.

In the absence of a refrigerator, if any food was left over, it had to be 
warmed up at least twice a day during the hot summer or else “randlelem 
finnfinnttalem” (the cooked food would get spoiled).  Each village had a 
centrally located place called "Tinto" where basic necessities like fish, 
vegetables, etc. were sold.  Since there was no cold storage facility, small 
markets were arranged around villages where people bought and sold their 
home-grown produce.  The market days were fixed in such a way that people 
could make use of the fetched products for 2 to 3 days.  Thus, the Anjunkars 
attended two small markets every week which were located at almost the same 
distance:  (1) Budvaradis Siolecho bazaar (Siolim market on a Wednesday) and 
(2) Sonvaradis Kongottcho bazaar (Calangute market on a Saturday).  Besides 
these two weekly markets, one big market took place in Mapusa town and this 
was meant for all Bardezkars (residents of Bardez).  In this article, I 
shall reminisce on the Mapusa town as it existed half a century ago.

Everyone had to walk to Mapusa on foot, regardless whether he/she had money 
or not because there was no public transportation then.  Children, mostly 
from the age of 7 onwards, accompanied their parents to the bazaar.  It was 
fun to walk to Mapusa but not as much fun when we returned home because 
while mother and father carried big “pottleo” (packages) on their heads and 
in both hands (in my case only mother - as my father was abroad), each child 
was required to carry one “poti” (small bag) in each hand.  There were two 
“Dovornim” (stone built structures on which one rests his/her burden if 
carrying a head load) each in Assagao and Parra located at approximately 2 ½ 
kilometers from each other.

Mapusa is a small sleepy town, 13 Kilometers from the capital, Panaji.  It 
is one of the oldest cities of Goa, retracing its establishment to the time 
of Marquês de Pombal.  It was the capital of the old province of Bardêz.  
“The crown of Bardez”, as it is also known, is basically a market place 
which forms the hub of north Goa. It is the most important commercial 
capital of the North Goa where the weekly “Sukraracho bazaar” (Friday 
market) takes place.  It is also the administrative headquarters of Bardez 
Taluka (the province comprising of 12 villages), one of the Old Conquests of 
Goa besides Salcete and Ilhas or Tiswadi.   Mapusa was categorized as a 
“vila” (town) by a Decree dated September 14, 1858.  By Order No.1911 of the 
Governor General, dated December 29, 1933, the town was designated the 
status of a ‘cidade’ (city).  The Mapusa market was first heard of in the 
1580 by a Dutch Chronicler who is believed to have described it as the 
‘Bazaar Grande’ (Big market)!  The older part of Mapusa town lies along the 
base of the hill. To me, Mapusa remains the best town; no modern, 
sophisticated town/city can ever replace it for me!

During the Portuguese regime the name of the town was written as Mapuçá.  
Post liberation it was difficult for people to write it with the ‘cedilla’; 
so, they wrote it without - ‘Mapuca’.  Later, people dropped the letter ‘c’, 
replaced it with 's’ and wrote it as ‘Mapusa’; most people write it this way 
now.  In Konkani, people call it ‘Mapxem’ and its residents are known as 
‘Mapxenkars’.  Some people from Salcete, especially the carpenters who bring 
furniture to the Fair at Milagres’ Feast, call it ‘Mavxem’!

There are various versions about its name – some say Mapusa is derived from 
the Konkani word “map/mhap” meaning measure, and “sa” meaning to ‘fill up’.  
The word put together “Mapsa” or “Mhapsa” means a place of measuring and 
selling goods.   It is also believed that the name is derived from “Maha” 
which means big and “push” means to sustain or feed – a big center for 
distributing village products, which is what it was and continues to be to 
date for North Goans.  Yet another source connects its origins to a Sanskrit 
word “Paisata” meaning a land reserved for the administrative official 
granted in exchange for the services rendered; hence, from ‘Maha-paisata’ to 
‘Mapusa’!  Since its early days, Mapusa was the economic and commercial 
center due to its strategic localization.

Anjuna is connected to Mapusa by a road which runs through Assagao and 
Khorlim at the end of which it is linked to the Main Mapusa Street, which at 
first was just a way for connecting the town to the northern part of Goa but 
became important later when administrative buildings were located along its 
side.  The street is located in the core area of the town and is part of the 
main traffic artery as well as a connecting spine for the secondary streets 
in the town. The Main Street buildings reflect the pride and aspirations of 
the community. In those days, the street was the center of community 
activity; the center of its commerce, banking, government and social life.  
So, my description of the Mapusa town in the 1950’s shall be along the Main 
Mapusa Street which actually housed major shops in town, and, of course, the 
old market.

The Anjunkars mostly went to Mapusa via Assagao because the distance is a 
little shorter than going via Parra.  Once people reached the peak of the 
Khorlim Ghat, they took a short cut from the right through the rocky hill 
which saved them about 400 meters distance.  To the right, there was a small 
Ghumati where Hindus stopped and prayed for a while and then proceeded to 
Mapusa.  Today, there is a small temple built in its place.  Although the 
road on the down slope was meant for vehicular use, hardly any vehicles, not 
even bicycles, passed by that road because they were a rarity at the time.

If you walked down the slope and looked to your right mid-way before 
arriving at the U-turn, you could see a Tuberculosis (TB) Hospital which was 
built by the Portuguese at the fag end of the 1950’s.  In those days, TB was 
considered a very contagious disease so much so that when a person died, the 
roof of the house would be opened so as to let off the microbes and the 
whole house went through a kind of sunshine fumigation.  Hence, the hospital 
was built on the hill in an isolated place, away from the residential area.  
To my knowledge the hospital had only half a dozen inmates; as such, it was 
hardly put to full use.  I really don’t know what ever happened to it 
post-liberation.

If you continued to walk down the slope and looked up on the hill on your 
left before you got to the U-turn, you can see a small ‘copelin’ (chapel).  
It is called: “Khorle Ghattavoilo Milagrincho Khuris” (Miraculous Cross of 
Khorlim Ghat).  Post liberation, it is customary for vehicle owners who 
travel the route to hold a yearly “ladain” (litany) in the month of May as a 
thanksgiving for saving the motorists from accidents at the sharp U-turn.  
Only once did a bus skid off the road but it got stuck to the stone railing 
and everyone was saved.  People have great faith in the cross.

Back to the short cut via the hill:  As we climbed down the ghat through 
“paim-vatt” (pathway) – actually, there was no pathway – one had to step on 
rocks and stones and make way through the bushes – we sometimes even ate 
“churnam” and “kanndttam” which we found on the way.  The walk was so rough 
that sometimes some people sprained their ankles, hit rocks and broke their 
fingers or fell to the ground.  My mother and I were among the fortunate to 
walk with slippers; most men, women and children walked barefoot.  If a 
thorn poked, they would just lift the foot, remove and throw it away as if 
nothing happened; there was no time to waste to cry over it - they had to 
get to the market, do the shopping and return home for lunch where not only 
their family members waited for them but also sunnim, mazram, dukram ani 
kunkddam (dogs, cats, pigs and chicken) waited for their feed!

As we climbed down the little ghat short cut, we came across two Christian 
houses, one on each side; the one on the right belonged to Jaki (Joaquim) 
Fernandes.  He was a short person but his wife, Carmelina, was taller than 
him and hefty; she was a jovial person; both of them smoked “pamparo”.  On 
our way back home, we mostly halted at their place to drink water.  
Carmelina would entertain us with her funny talk and crack jokes which would 
elevate our mood and make us feel much better after a tiresome trip to the 
market.  The house on the left also belonged to another Christian, Ruzai 
(Rosario) Fernandes; his son’s name was Milagres.

In those days, there was practically nothing in Khorlim as we proceeded to 
Mapusa for the Friday market except a garage on the left side which still 
exits.  At the first road crossing, on the right side, there was and still 
there is a ‘gironn/makn’ (paddy husking, wheat grinding machine; they also 
ground various spice powders, including chillies powder).  On the same side, 
a little after the crossing, there was a “Taverna Manu” (Manu’s bar) which 
still exists.  From here on and until the next road crossing there were 
several “kansarachim dukornam” (coppersmith shops) on either side of the 
road; the place is known as “Kansarvaddo”.

From the afore-mentioned road crossing and until we reached the next 
crossing, both the sides had residential houses surrounded by compound walls 
through which the street ran and it remains the same to date.  At the end of 
the Khorlim road, two roads branched out – the one on the right was followed 
by vehicles to get into the town and the one on the left was a ‘No Entry’ 
for vehicles; pedestrians usually took this road to proceed to the market.  
However, the few private taxis from Anjuna/Assagao used the wrong entry in 
order to avoid direct confrontation with the police from the front of the 
quartela (police station) because their cars were always overloaded with at 
least 10 passengers!

For now, I shall travel as a pedestrian from the ‘No Entry’ road and then 
come back to the point and travel from the vehicular road on the right.

Travel to Mapusa by foot was not a big thing for children but there were two 
sensitive points which bothered us while we crossed the ‘No Entry’ road.  
Yes, I am talking about the back side of the ‘quartela’ with fortified 
compound wall inside which robbers, murderers and freedom fighters were 
imprisoned, and the sentry at the top; we had to cross both these points on 
our way to the market and back home.

When we were about to reach the quartela corner, fear would grip us; 
suddenly our heart palpitation would go “dab-dab, dab-dab, dab-dab, dab-dab, 
dab-dab” – much faster than regular beat because we had heard so many 
stories taking place at the quartela where suspects were interrogated, 
threatened and flogged with a chicote – if one had been to a quartela once, 
he would never want to visit it again.  They laid the prisoners/freedom 
fighters (mostly innocent) on ice blocks, beat them with calvalmarine and 
hit them under their feet with thick wooden pieces/rulers until a person 
could not walk, which sometimes resulted in paralysis – Joe from Assagao was 
a living example.  Anyway, this little stretch of road of about 100 meters 
was the most difficult and fearful for us to cross.  When we were about 15 
meters away from the quartela corner/compound wall, our mother would say to 
us:  “Ugich zap kaddinastannam, azu-bazun ani voir pollenastannam 
chol/cholat, nam zalear ghaltam tujer/tumcher ek.” (Walk straight quietly 
without looking sideways or up, otherwise I will give one on you).  The 
moment we reached the corner of the prison, though instructed by parents not 
to look sideways, I could not help looking at the corner cell through the 
corner of my eyes.  I could see two prisoners standing and clutching the 
iron bars from inside in the corner cell and grinning at us – obviously they 
were grinning at the women!   They kept on signaling: “Tst, tst; tst, tst; 
tst, tst; tst, tst" until we crossed the corner!

We had crossed the first point.  The next was to walk past the sentry who 
was stationed in a sentry box in the middle of the fortified compound wall, 
which had barbed wire on both its sides plus the top of the wall had broken 
glass pieces planted on it (most of the bhattkars in those days also fixed 
broken glass pieces on the top of their compound walls to prevent anyone 
jumping into their compounds).  Yes, the sentry was fully geared in uniform 
with a helmet on his head and a gun attached with bayonet; he wore a wide 
leather belt to which ammunition filled packets were fixed.  Post 
liberation, I saw many Second World War movies in which they depict sentries 
guarding prisons with search lights on, but in those days quartela was the 
only place we witnessed such sentries stationed at the top of the compound 
wall.  Here again, despite parents’ prior warning, I couldn’t help looking 
up at the sentry at least once.  Whoever was stationed there always carried 
a serious look on his face and looked in a bad mood.  Surprisingly, most of 
the time, the sentry on duty was a black African, who gracefully strolled 
around the sentry box and was ready to fire his gun at the slightest 
provocation.  This is why our parents would warn us in advance and request 
us not to look up.

Once we crossed these two sensitive points, we felt like free birds!  While 
we returned home, it was only one hurdle – the sentry at the top, as we 
couldn’t see the prison cell windows.  If we looked back, parents would come 
to know, as we were always made to walk before them, and disobedience in 
those days, was not taken kindly.  The Mapusa Police Station continues to be 
in the same quartela with a prison attached to it.

Now I return to road crossing at the end of Khorlim road.  If the Anjunkars 
proceeding to the market took the road on the right, they would first come 
across a green house inside a green compound wall which belonged to Mr. 
Bandekar, one of the mine owners from the town at the time.

A little further, one came across St. Joseph’s Chapel which falls in 
Ansabhatt.  People in those days were God-fearing.  As soon as they reached 
the chapel, they would halt for a while, say ‘ek Amchea Bapa ani Noman Mori’ 
(one Our Father and Hail Mary) and proceed to the market.

In front of the chapel, there is a horizontal road – if you turn left, it 
leads into Ansabhatt and if you turn right, it blends into the main street.  
If you kept on walking straight through the open space in front of the 
chapel, you could see a row of prison cells attached to the west side wall 
of the quartela.  Adjacent to these cells across the road there was open 
field where Konkani tiatros were held in a mattov.  Walking on the main 
street, about fifty meters ahead was the front side of the quartela.  Here 
again, we were asked not to look inside the quartela’s entrance on the left. 
 The Police jeep drivers in those days were very rough; they exited the 
quartela like a rocket!  If we heard the accelerating sound of a jeep coming 
out from the quartela, we would wait until it exited and took off like an 
airplane.  The quartela also had message carriers called “pilotos” (pilots) 
who carried messages on motorcycle from Mapusa to Betim/Panjim and 
vice-versa.  One of my Escola Primaria mates, Innocente D’Souza from 
Chinvar, Anjuna, who was much senior to me in age, joined the then ‘policia’ 
as a ‘piloto’; he retired a few years ago as ASI.

Adjoining the quartela was the only Post & Telegraphs office (P&TO) which 
served us, Anjunkars, until the 1980’s!  Although Anjuna is only around 8 
kilometers away from Mapusa, a telegram received at P&TO in Mapusa would be 
directed to Siolim from where a person would pedal his way to Anjuna on a 
bicycle and deliver the telegram to the addressee.  Though delivery was 
late, people appreciated his services and gave him tips.  My father expired 
on Thursday, April 28, 1983, while I was employed in Saudi Arabia.  
Telephone service then was still a rarity in Goa.  I was able to convey 
messages to my family in Anjuna through ‘O Coqueiro Restaurant’ in Porvorim 
where my neighbor, the late Joaquim Antonio D'Souza was employed.  I also 
sent several telegrams to my family in Anjuna.  Due to the 2-day weekend 
here, I could not get an Exit-Re-Entry visa, which I was able to get only on 
the following Saturday.  When I reached Bombay, it being the peak season, I 
could not get a seat on a flight to Goa because I did not have a confirmed 
ticket.  After spending 10 hours at the airport, I went to the Cooperage 
Maidan where I managed to get a standing place in a bus.  I traveled from 
Bombay to Mapusa as a standing passenger; I reached home on May 2.  However, 
all the telegrams that were sent from Saudi Arabia reached only after I 
arrived home, almost after a week!  In fact, the person from Siolim brought 
them to my house for three consecutive days and I received them all in 
person!

The large yellow building next to the P&TO was the Escola Primaria de Mapusa 
where ‘Segundo Grau’ public exams were held.  Opposite the school, there was 
a Children’s Park.

As we kept on walking, we came across the Hanuman Temple on the left.  
Behind the temple, there was ‘Dassarat Talkies’.  Next to the temple there 
were various small shops and outside those shops there were rows of bicycles 
for hire – the cheapest and convenient transportation means in those days.  
A little ahead, in Ajrekar’s Building, Shri Nivas Naik Buriye, a spare parts 
dealer was located.

If one looked to the right, he came across the beautiful ‘Mapusa Municipal 
Jardim’ (Mapusa Municipal Garden) with a concrete floor in the middle.  It 
was known as the square and municipal garden "Mártires da República"; it was 
in this place that the population of the city came for their enjoyment and 
pastime, especially in the evenings.  The garden was famous for hosting two 
annual dances – “Natalanche Porbek Dans" ani "Milagr Saibinninche Porbek 
Dans” (Dance at Christmas and the dance at Our Lady of Miracles’ feast).  To 
my knowledge, no dances were held anywhere else in Bardez in those days 
except in Mapusa Garden.  Since the dances were formal, only elite people 
participated.  I did venture a trip to Mapusa on my bicycle on a cold 
Christmas night and witnessed a Christmas Dance in the garden.  People 
occupied the middle portion of the floor, held each other tight (the weather 
was very cold with dew falling from the top with no protection from above) 
and danced Waltz, Foxtrot, Tango, Bolero, Rumba-Samba, Cha-cha-cha, Lancer, 
Contradans, etc., to the rhythmic tunes of the one and only Johnson and his 
Jolly Boys!  The late Johnson Carvalho’s was the top band in the whole of 
Goa until the 1960’s!  Chairs and tables were arranged around the concrete 
floor for people to sit down and relax and enjoy their drinks and snacks at 
the end of each dance.

Adjacent to the garden, on the east side, there was a tea shop and by its 
side there was a little entrance which led to the stairs of the famous 
‘Pensao Imperial Bar', which was frequented by men who wanted to avoid 
people moving on the ground.

If one kept on walking straight on the main road, a little further there was 
a two-storey ‘Carvalho’ building on the left.  One always saw a fair, young 
man, Faria, (Milo’s son), popularly known to all as “Babush”, probably in 
his late twenties, strolling up and down the balcony of the building facing 
the road, nibbling at his finger nails, smiling and greeting everyone 
passing by that road; he was out of his mind.  He went crazy if you talked 
to him about marriage and immediately shook his head in agreement.

If you turned from the main road into the gully on the right, you came 
across some more spare part shops but the gully was very famous for ‘Shri 
Krishna Bhojan’ popularly known to all as “Bhatt’ttachi khannavoll” (Bhat’s 
eatery) where they served hot raw rice in a “pelo” (stainless steel glass) 
with “nusteachem umonn” (fish curry) which was brought in a stainless steel 
container and served with big spoons.  Fried fish, papad and pickle were 
also served.  The food was served by “bhatts” who wore a “dhontir” from the 
waist on without a top except for a religious thread which hung across their 
chest and back; they did not wear any footwear.  The food was always warm 
and the service was very fast.  On the left, there was ‘Dhuri’s khannavoll’. 
 At the end of the gully, there was ‘Janaki Bookstall’ from where I bought 
my stock of Konkani Romansi (Novels)!

Coming out of the gully and getting back on the main street, as we walked a 
little ahead of the ‘Carvalho’ building, we would come across ‘Café Chaya’ 
where one could eat “patoll vo mix bhaji, bhoje, mirsango, bottate-vadde, 
etc.” and wash it down with a cup of tea, coffee or godd’ddeachi soda.  Next 
to the café, there was a bookstall; sorry, I cannot recall its name.

As we kept on walking and approached the corner, we came across the famous 
‘Farmacia João Menezes’ which was located at the tip of the 
shops-cum-residential stretch by the main street.  The pharmacy was run by 
the proprietor, Joao, and his wife, Dona Bertha.  Joao was a well-built, 
tall person who had little protruding teeth and wore spectacles low on his 
nose.  Bertha was the one who mainly handled the business; she, too, wore 
spectacles low on her nose and looked more like a scientist.  She was one of 
the few smart women I came across in those days who was actively involved in 
the pharmacy business.  Both of them wore Lab coats and so did their staff.

To the left of the pharmacy, there was a wooden upper floor in an old 
building where “Zunvea voilo haddancho dotor” (A bone setter from the 
islands) had a small dispensary.  He was a very good bone setter and I know 
it for a fact because he reset my broken hand.  While I was jumping around, 
I fell on the edge of table with my right hand under the belly and broke it 
into two pieces.  While I was rushed to the doctor, bamboo sticks were 
placed around my broken hand and tied with lugttache tir (cloth strips) to 
hold it temporarily in place.  The doctor put me at ease with a nice smile, 
held my broken arm in both his hands and asked me several questions about my 
place, schooling, etc., including funny questions like: “Tum dukra pattlean 
vo cheddvam pattlean danvtalo re?  (Were you running after a pig or girls?)  
At one point, he suddenly reset my broken bone in one push which sent a 
dizzy sensation in my head.  He then applied a thick “lep” (a sticky plaster 
made from the bark of several trees, including “assnnanchi sal”.  Next, he 
placed four flat bamboo sticks around my hand and tied them tightly with 
gauze.  An appointment was given to see him in 8 days at which time he would 
know if the bone was set properly, which mostly turned out to be right.  
Total recovery period was about 8-10 weeks which is the same if one took 
treatment in a hospital.  I still remember him say:  “Ho tuzo hath sarko 
zatoch, adlea poros vodik mozbut zatolo!”  (When you recover from the 
fracture, your hand will be stronger than before!)

A little further to bone setter’s dispensary, one would come across ‘Madhav 
G.S. Duklo’ shop, Stationers from Calangute – the shop is still there, 
followed by ‘Tadeu Sports’ shop, and next to it there was ‘Luis de Menezes’ 
– a wholesale distributor.

We then came across the "Tikttem" – a T-shaped road junction.  Though there 
were hardly any vehicles at the time, a traffic police was stationed at the 
junction.  He stood facing the up slope so that he could stop anyone trying 
to enter the main street which was a 'No Entry' zone.  He directed the 
vehicles coming down the slope either to his left to Assagao/Anjuna road, or 
to his right to Betim/Panjim road.

Next, there was the ‘Café Zuzarte’ – a hotel owned by Africanders from 
Guirim.  Besides patties, egg-chops, samboosa, bottate-vadde, bhoje, 
mirsango, etc., it was quite popular for a variety of pão-bhaji. People 
found it convenient to step into the café as soon as they descended the 
slope.  One of the brothers was married to one of Jaki’s daughters from 
Khorlim.

Next to the hotel there was ‘Eugene DeMello’ – he sold musical instruments, 
including violin, as well as religious statues, rosaries, etc.   Next in 
line, there was the ‘Coulecar Bookstall’ – they sold books and all types of 
stationery.  Next to it there was ‘Drogaria Menezes & Cia’ and adjoining it 
there was ‘Casa Leao’ Bar.  Next to the bar there was the famous wholesale 
liquor dealer ‘VALENTINO F. PINTO’ who sold famous brands like ‘St. Pauli 
Girl’ cerveja (beer), ‘Maceira’ Brandy; Moscatel, Tinto, garrafao de Vinho 
Branco, etc.  The main entrance had a swinging Saloon Door – it swung either 
way when customers entered and exited the shop.  Outside its main entrance 
door, there was a two-way staircase - people entered from one side and 
exited from the other.  The name of the shop was written in bold letters in 
white against green background on the staircase wall facing the road.

Continuing on the up slope, a little further at the curve on the left, there 
was a watch repairer and next to it there was Bhiku’s small office where he 
helped people obtain their passports.

If one kept walking up the slope, on the left there were some tea shops, and 
above them, on a wooden floor ‘Hotel Godinho’ was located, where government 
employees had their lunch accompanied with a drink.  On this very side, 
there was the famous ‘C. D’Souza Hotel’ - the oldest hotel in Mapusa – other 
hotels emerged at a later date.  Initially, they had a tea shop in the main 
old market (my neighbor, Joaquim Mariano Fernandes, aka Jaki Mari, still 
runs a welding garage in that shop) but later on they succeeded in obtaining 
the above-mentioned premises on the main street, and they had a very 
successful business at this place.

Everyone’s specialty then was ‘mosko paõ vo ghoddacho paõ’ (sweet bread with 
a few raisins in it with an application of butter), which was very tasty and 
quite filling.  The bread was quite big in size – it wouldn’t fit in 
children’s hands.  Everyone preferred to eat the paõ with coffee.  As soon 
as the waiter brought the paõ and coffee, we would dip the bread in the cup 
and savor it bit by bit and it would melt in our mouth.  It is a pity they 
don’t serve that bread any more in Goan cafés.  However, the late Anthony 
Mendes left the taste of ‘ghoddacho paõ’ for us in his song ‘Mogachem Tarum’ 
which he sang in ‘Amchem Noxib’ movie.  Every Goan band proudly plays this 
number at weddings/dances till date.  Here are the lyrics of the song:

‘MOGACHEM TARUM’ by the late Anthony Mendes:

Bexttench ragan chavon, kiteak vetai danvon
Tujea mogan poi voitam hanv bavon
Mogan zaitem baie ghoddta, kednaim hansta kednaim roddta
Punn tem tuvem-hanvem sozmochem poddta

Moga tum mojem sukh, moddta mogacho rukh
Gopan astoch tum lagonam mhaka bukh
Hacho mog kelolo porum, danvta koxem aka dhorum
Doriean lotton voita mogachem tarum

Painnean doloitam mhunnon bexttem mhuttlem
Mog sozmonam poieat hem ragan ful’lem
Dubav lagta hem konnaimkui punn bul’lem
Hem mhaka fottovn-fottovn, kalliz tuttovn hath dakovn chol’lem

Moga zalem tem zanv, mozo ghoddacho pão
Mhaka soddxi tor jiv ditolom hanv
Mhaka bhuloilolo forsan, mog zalolo gelea Marsan
Azun povnk nam hanvem mogachi ghoddsan

Rav gho sukha mojea, sorga velea anjea
Kolsanv denvta poi sintimentan tujea
Puro xikoilam tem lisanv, zogddim nakat koriea tensanv
Devan ghatlea puro kurpechem bhesanv

Mog tuzo assa mhunnon danvon ietam
Zalem tem zalem sogllem visor atam
Tuji khoxi kor sogllem sonsun ghetam
Punn tuka fuddarachi rannim korun, raza hanv zatam.

Café C. D’Souza is also responsible for Mapusa’s unique snacks – patties, 
crockets, sandwich, egg-chops, bottate-vadde, etc., which continue to be the 
attraction of everyone visiting the town.  The moment one entered the hotel, 
the waiters would bring and place plates on the table containing the 
above-mentioned snacks.  I remember, once an old woman wanted only a 
‘ghoddacho pão’ and coffee but she was shocked when she saw several plates 
placed on her table with various snacks.  She immediately said to the 
waiter:  “Baba, hem sogllem hanvem tuka hadd sangonk nam re puta; mhaka 
fokot mosko pão ani copi (coffee) hadd”. (Baba, I didn't ask you to bring 
all these things; just bring me bread-butter and coffee.)  The waiter 
replied:  “Bhienakai ghe maim, tuvem teo vostu khal’learuch ami tuje poixe 
ghetelet nam zalear nam”.  (Don’t worry mother, we will charge you only if 
you eat those snacks otherwise we won’t).  The old woman felt good and said: 
 “Toxem re mhojea puta; hanv sozmolim tumi mojea lagchean hea soglleache 
poixe ghetelet; hem sogllem ghora vorpak, mojea ghoran anik konn nam!”  (Is 
it like that my son?  I thought you would charge me for all these snacks; to 
take all these things home, I don't have anyone else at home!)  When 
outsiders enter today’s cafés and hotels in Mapusa, they are as much 
surprised as the old woman when all those snacks are placed on their tables 
without ordering them, and they sometimes pose the same questions to waiters 
as posed by the old woman.   Anyway, hats off to the late C. D’Souza for 
introducing this unique way of serving snacks without asking for them.  It 
is a pity that the heir to the hotel, Francis, disappeared from the face of 
the earth without leaving behind a single trace of his disappearance.  One 
of my neighbors, Menino D’Souza, worked at the counter of the old hotel on 
the main road.  He walked from Gaumvaddy to the hotel every day - 365 days a 
year!

Continued ………………

Moi-mogan,
Domnic Fernandes
Anjuna/Dhahran, KSA

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