There never was a time when anyone could put his finger on what really defines a Goan. It is an insurmountable task and many who tried, gave up and migrated to Canada in search of clarity. Those back home got drunk just thinking about it.
About 25 years ago we were told that language was mark of a Goan, which is a good parameter if we could get together and decide which language.
“Language is a problem,” said my friend Jose Lamartine Pereira, “we should be defined by what we drink. And anyone who does not drink feni is definitely not a Goan. ”
“Cashew or maad?” I asked him.
“Both,” he replied. “A few weeks back the chief minister opened a conference on feni and promised that he would do everything to make it the state drink. That’s how we stagger forward.”
“But he also went and inaugurated the wine festival where he had a glass of the delicious stuff and now I am confused about who I really am,” I said.
“We have been drinking feni for years and frankly, what is a Goan without his feni?” asked Lamartine.
“Are you aware that more and more Goans are turning away from feni?” I asked him. “The quantity of feni produced is dropping every year. For instance the per capita consumption of Cachaça in Brazil is 11 liters, whereas only 250 ml of feni is consumed per person in Goa. How can it be made the state drink if no one wants to drink it?”
“There was a time when feni was the only pernicious stuff available in the state and we were proud of it,” said Lamartine. “Then the Portuguese came and introduced port wine and destroyed our culture and our will. We had to depend on the rum-drinking Indian army to kick the wine-drinking Portuguese army into the Arabian Sea. But the whole process took 450 years, by which time we literally lost our cashews and coconuts.”
“We need to get back to our feni roots if we are to rise to new levels of intoxication,” I added with a flourish.
“And the only way to do that is to go back and rediscovers our coconuts and cashews,” said Lamartine.
“Or we could take the IMFL route,” I suggested, “since more people drink it nowadays.”
“That’s not bad,” said Lamartine, “but the question is do we want to be known as a 100 Bagpipers people or a 100 cashews people. It’s something we have to think about very deeply, if we can. ”
“What about beer?” I asked. “Why can’t we select beer as the State drink since we drink a lot of it?”
Lamartine thought for a while, shook his head and said, “… but then, people would say these Goans are full of gas. Can we live with that?”
“What do you think?” I asked.
Lamartine thought for a while. “The government should subsidise feni,” he declared.
“But it is already the cheapest drink in the State,” I said.
“That’s not what I meant,” said Lamartine, “the government must start paying us to drink feni. The money should be transferred directly into our bank accounts which will be linked to aadhaar cards. Those who do not have aadhaar cards can use their Portuguese passports.”
“Viva!” I cheered to a problem settled by two Goans, which is a miracle.
