Felicio’s mother was among the packed audience in the hall on the second day. He could not see her from where he stood. The blinding bright lights in front of the stage made it impossible to recognize her. He wondered whether his mother would cry with joy as usual, or smile. Hope she smiles today, he thought. Students who excelled in their school studies and extra-curricular activities were awarded prizes that were distributed on the second day of the school drama. Felicio was waiting among other students on the right-hand side of the stage to receive his prize. He hoped he could hear his name called out clearly. It might be very embarrassing if he did not hear, or else may be he would miss out on collecting his prize, Felicio thought! He was a bit nervous as Sir Veloso, a senior teacher at the school, began calling the names in his admirable and booming voice and an imposing personality to match, that needed no microphone. Finally, the great moment had come. Felicio was ready for his name to be called. Although slightly nervous, he happily proceeded to the stage to receive his prize for his favourite subject, drawing.
After the concert ended Felicio’s mother embraced and kissed him. Obviously she was happy for him. A few neighbours from his village were present there too, and they came forward to greet and congratulate him as he came out of the school building. It had turned dark by the time the concert ended. There were stalls set up in front of the grotto, selling soft drinks and snacks, by the light of the petromax lamps. They all walked home lighting the path with a battery-powered torch light that they had remembered to carry with them.
On the way home the dogs barked in front of some of the houses. They passed through the fields and other wards of their village. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted. The moon cast a faint glow over the eastern horizon as it was about to rise up in the east. All the youngsters walked in front followed by their parents discussing and commenting on how good the school drama had been.
As the village folks approached and turned towards the path that led to his house, Felicio could faintly see the lights through the open window of his house in the distance. The front door was open. He saw the silhouette of his grandmother who was sitting outside on the bench in the balcony, anxiously waiting for their return. As he turned left over his shoulder, he noticed the lights of Monte in the far distance. Felicio had often heard that one should never look back while walking in the night. Somehow he just could not help but look and remember what a wonderful day it had really been.
“I’ve be waiting for you all to come home, and I was worried”, Grandma said, as she rose from her seat. “I was not sure whether you had carried along a torch light, or at least a candle, as it gets dark soon these days”, she continued as we stepped in. “I said three rosaries waiting for you all”. “I wish I could have gone along with you all, like I did in the past”.
Felicio’s grandma suffered from arthritis. She would not have been able to climb the hill now that she was getting older. She said she had watched a few concerts up there in the past, and had also many times been there for the annual candle-lit procession held after a Holy Mass, held every year, late in the evening of the 8th of December – the day of the feast of Our Lady of Immaculate Conception. “Come on now, let’s all go in” she said, “Supper is ready, and I have to rise up early to attend Mass in our chapel, come on, I will start serving whatever little that I have prepared for you.”
Felicio’s neighbours proceeded on their way. “Good night” they said in succession. “Deo bori rath dhium”, one of them said. “Sleep tight” said another, with a prompt and quick follow-on with: “Don’t let the bugs bite.”
Felicio was very fond of his Grandma. She would always wait for everyone to join in for dinner whenever they went out for salves and novenas. Felicio related to her about the concert and the prize that he had received for excellence in drawing. The play, ‘Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves’, had turned out to be very good and well-enacted by students. One of his class-teachers had played the lead role. His name was Thomas Mendonça. His diction was impeccable. He was very proficient in English and French, and had passed his SSCE in the same school. The students also sang in Portuguese, as the Governor General was present. His Excellency had been very kind to dedicate his precious time to watch the entire play.
The light from kerosene lamp in the centre of the table of the ‘sala’ of young Felicio's house cast oversized flickering shadows on the wall as he took his turn in relating and re-enacting some of the scenes of the play. His grandma loved him, he thought, as she did not show any signs of boredom. Even though it was quite late in the night, she was a patient listener. As he finished his supper, he looked up and turned sideways in the direction of his grandma. She was crying too. “Now these must have been particular tears of sheer joy”, Felicio thought, as he had cried too.
After supper they all sat in the balcony for a short while as the moon had risen bringing a glow to the sandy front yard of the house. The tall coconut and mango trees cast soft grey shadows on the cool earth. As for Felicio the next day was a holiday. Visible and twinkling far away in the distance over the sprawling fields were the lights of Mapusa town. Then it was time to say “Boa Noite”.
Those were the great days of schooling and some of the memories of Monte de Guirim of long ago. In retrospect, as I reminisce about them every now and then, it seems it was just yesterday. We lived a happy and simple lifestyle with loving folks. We got through those times with the basic necessities. Though hard days sometimes prevailed, adversely facing some scarcities from petrol to cereals, we learned to take it all in stride.
Tony ‘Felix’ (Felicio) Fernandes
Guirim, Cumbiem Morod,
Bardez, Goa.
CLASS OF 1964