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| Lunch hosted by Kevin and Miriam Mendonca for aunty Ivy (centre) and us yesterday. |
Listening to the mando Adeus Korchu Vellar* on AIR, FM Radio now, I was thinking I should have asked Miriam to sing it for aunty Ivy yesterday, before she boarded the flight back to Bombay. Aunty Ivy (73) would have loved it. She loved to speak and listen to Konkani. Indeed, we spent many happy hours cracking jokes in Konkani in her company at home and on the road. Ambe's tiatr 'Khali Dhobo' - which we watched online - had us in splits.
Having a few hours to spare before the reporting time of 1 p.m. at Dabolim airport, my brother Kevin and his wife Miriam, in Vasco, graciously offered us an early lunch before we headed to the airport to drop aunty. The prawn curry rice, raita and fried fish were most welcome - not to forget Miriam's home-made miscut pickle.
Aunty Ivy's sojourn with us was like an internship for us. We learnt so many things from her. Most apparent was her zest for life. She was very active and used to rise at 6. Her implicit faith and her daily routine of rosaries gave a pattern to her day. When she was with us she marshalled everyone to listen to daily Mass online with her. It was during her stay that one of the Lenten readings was from Ezekiel 47:12. It was the same verse that we had chosen to inscribe on our simple wedding invitation card a decade ago.
When I presented her with a photo album of some of the pix we had clicked, I told her how much I admired her being a traveller. With operations in both knees, she was bold enough to fly back alone.
We took her to see the Atal Setu at night with its laser lights. We drove past the frenetic pace of Cohiba at Sinquerim. The basilica of Bom Jesus, Old Goa was under renovation. We decided to give it a miss to avoid the crowds. 'Goem Khoob Sudhorlam' [Goa has modernized!] she used to say when we skimmed along the roads.
Aunty Ivy had come to Goa to Aldona, in 1977 with Queenie who was a little girl at the time. Aunty Ivy is Queenie's mother's brother's wife. Born in the year of India's Independence in 1947 she is Freedom's child.
When we ate out, aunty would only nibble at the food but took great satisfaction in watching us eat. Her tastes were simple. She stepped into the kitchen and made a delicious brinjal vegetable. Queenie was delighted with her company, as aunty was an elder in her family. They spent hours talking while I was at work.
Aunty personally supervised Dwayne's cursive writing. She also spoke to him in Konkani at times. She taught him table manners and reminded him to do his exercises.
Aunty had seen a hard life. She brought up her family giving tuitions in Parel in the 70's. She knew what it was to work hard. She was the fourth daughter of her parents. They were cared for mostly by their mother.
On the last night of her stay I offered her the first fruit of urrack brewed in Revora. She relished it and savoured the spirit of Goa.
'You have done so much for me,' she said. 'I will always pray for you.' When I asked her to write in our Devashri Diary, she wrote that she would not forget the memories of Goa. Everyday after the rosary she used to say a little prayer. I asked her to write it down for me:
God Bless Our Home
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