GOAN NAMES – VALMIKI By Valmiki Faleiro Goa, as we saw last Sunday, has only six ‘Valmikis’ … per the local phone directory, that is. Five of them are Catholics. Of these, one is the well-known diocesan priest, Fr. Valmiki Dias Gonsalves, the other is the irreverent chap you’re presently reading. Yet, the two – friends personally – are often mixed. Around 1977. Pop star Remo performs in Margao. Fr. Valmiki has painstakingly organized the show. In his acknowledgements, Remo thunders, “… and, in a very special way, I thank Rev. Fr. Valmiki Faleiro.” I had just subscribed to Goanet. Responding to one of my first posts on the forum, an old chum of Fr. Valmiki responds, from the Americas, “Hi reverend”! This time, it was Fr. Valmiki all right, talking to a mutual friend from Chinchinim, now in the US, at a wedding reception at Benaulim’s Taj Exotica. Her hubby, a medical specialist I never met, greets, “Glad to meet you, Valmiki Faleiro!” Talking of the Taj, a former Taj-Aguada boss, over the public address at the Loutulim church, thanks “Fr. Valmiki Faleiro” … even as the Rev. Valmiki Gonsalves is at the altar. Tongue slips on just six Valmikis in Goa! Why, when Fr. Valmiki served at the next- door Holy Spirit church, even the postman mixed identities, and our letters. Of the six Valmikis, only one is Hindu. (An internet search yields Valmikis with surnames like Bankay, Biswas, Mukherjee, Raghunathan, Ramsewak, Rao, Raj, Rengadhar...) Which brings up the question: why don’t Goan Hindus name their sons after the great Indian sage? For a plausible answer, let us pan back in time … to about the year 1000 BC. Story goes that a Brahmin, Prachetas, begot his tenth child, a son. For reasons unknown, he entrusted the child for upbringing to a man who lived in the forests – and waylaid and killed travelers for a livelihood. The man raised the child in his ‘profession’. The boy became the merciless bandit ‘Valya Koli’. One day, as Valya was about to strike his next victim, the aged wayfarer turned and asked Valya, “Why do you do this?” Valya replied, “To provide for my family.” The old man asked Valya that while his family shared his earnings, would they share his guilt of sin? Would they partake of the punishment? The traveler told Valya to ask his family, promising to wait at that spot until Valya returned. He was Naradamuni. Back at his forest hideout, Valya’s wife and children shot back, “why should we share the guilt of your sins? It’s your duty to provide for us, how you do it is your concern.” Valya, as if thunderstruck, returned to Narada. Valya was contrite. Narada told him, “All your life you’ve known only killing (“mar”). Your lips are not pure to utter god’s name. Sit here and utter just that word, ‘Mar, mar, mar…’ in atonement, until I return.” Valya sat under a tree and began reciting “Mar, mar…” Hours turned to days, months, and years. Gradually, the chant of “Mar, mar…” reversed in alphabetical order and turned to “Ram, Ram…,” god’s name! Eleven years had passed. An anthill (“valmik”) had grown over him. Narada finally returned, to find “Valmiki Prabhavo Vasya” (one who emerged from an anthill.) Killer Valya, now Valmiki, led an ascetic’s life. One day that too changed. Returning from bath in the river, he noticed, on a nearby tree, two birds making love. Just then, a hunter’s arrow hit the male bird, throwing it to the ground. The female cried bitterly by the side of her dead mate. An anguished Valmiki uttered a curse, the ‘Ma Nishad.’ Its verse was so creative that Brahma, the Creator, ordained Valmiki to compose an epic. The “world’s greatest story” – as veteran theatre director, Aamir Raza Husain, producer of ‘The Legend of Ram’, described the timeless ‘Ramayana.’ 24,000 lucid verses, four times the length of the Iliad. No controversy brewed by politicians, like over the ‘Ram Setu’ navigation channel or over Prof. AK Ramanujan’s essay, “300 Ramayanas,” can steal from the Ramayana. Its richness lies in its hundreds of versions and interpretations – even by Buddhists and Jains. Why, Valmiki himself is seen in ancient scriptures from three different facets: in the ‘Mahabharat’ he is Rishi, in ‘Taittiriya Pratishakya’ he is the philologist, while ‘Kalidasa’ and ‘Bhavbhuti’ refer to him as the poet/writer. Why, then, don’t Goan Hindus name their sons after this sage? The obvious answer: what if he turns out to be ‘Valya’ and not Valmiki? PS. From an e-mail: “An Olympic shooter wins gold, Govt. gives him Rs. three crore. A commando shooter dies, fighting terrorists, Govt. gives his family Rs. five lakhs.” (ENDS.) The Valmiki Faleiro weekly column at: http://www.goanet.org/index.php?name=News&file=article&sid=330 ============================================================================== The above article appeared in the December 14, 2008 edition of the Herald, Goa
