A costela portuguesa de Mário de Miranda
Assinala-se em 2 de maio o centenário de nascimento de Mário de Miranda, caricaturista de renome internacional, nascido no antigo Estado Português da Índia.
Não admira que muitos ignorem se a etnia do artista é goesa ou portuguesa. Na verdade, Mário era indo-português, nascido em Damão, de pai goês e mãe damanense. Constâncio do Rosário Miranda era administrador do enclave, onde conheceu Maria Zulema de Brito, neta de um capitão português do exército do Nizão de Hyderabad.
O casal fixou residência no seu solar brasonado na aldeia de Loutulim, em Goa. A história do brasão conferido ao bisavô de Mário pela captura de Custobá está consagrada no folclore goês. Inspirou Trikaal, filme de Shyam Benegal que rodou no solar dos Miranda, imortalizando o «carácter latino» de Goa.
Em criança, Mário vincara a sua vocação com rabiscos pelas paredes da casa. Zulema oferecia-lhe depois, em cada Natal, agendas, em que o miúdo fazia esboços, com anotações—as suas confissões—em português.
Mário exibe influências de Bordalo Pinheiro e de Lopes Mendes. Autodidacta, nos seus diários — santuário de imagens mágicas de Goa, Damão e Bombaim — cristaliza-se um microcosmo de meados do século XX.
Em 1952, o Bordalo goês fez sensação na imprensa indiana. Para o ganha-pão, porém, pensava em emigrar para o Brasil. Foi quando o destino no Oriente revelou-se promissor. Integrou a prestigiada Illustrated Weekly of India, e logo outras publicações se renderam ao seu traço que transpunha para o papel o movimento e o som da urbe.
Estava-lhe garantida uma carreira ascensional, mas nem sempre lhe era fácil converter o dia-a-dia em gargalhada. «Há momentos em que não tenho vontade de rir e, no entanto, tenho de produzir algo engraçado», dizia. Não era fazedor de anedotas; preferia o humor que surge da narrativa.
Desta sobriedade nascia a sua filosofia artística: a de que o caricaturista deve saber rir com as pessoas e abster-se da crueldade. Desdenhando os figurões da política, assumiu-se como caricaturista social e criou um elenco arquetípico que habita a memória colectiva do país.
O seu amor intrínseco pelo desenho encontrou o fôlego necessário quando bolseiro da Fundação Gulbenkian em 1959. Percorreu Portugal de lés-a-lés, destilando a essência da alma lusa. Logo depois, em Londres, cruzou-se com os grandes da caricatura, ganhando um sentido de autonomia necessário para encontrar a sua própria voz.
Com a tomada de Goa em 1961, Mário viu-se obrigado a regressar com passaporte indiano. Navegou temas sociais e políticos complexos, pois a linha editorial do Weekly tendia a integrar Goa na corrente dominante nacional. Mário assumia uma postura distinta, publicando ilustrações a reafirmar a singularidade de Goa—uma subtil campanha de resistência que manteria até ao fim.
Mário transformou a arte da caricatura, aliada ao seu conhecimento da história e literatura, em ferramenta de exploração nas suas viagens a convite de vários países. Esboçava linhas rápidas que a sua memória fotográfica depois convertia em desenhos matizados. Essa técnica evoluiu em ilustrações elegantes à tinta-da-china, com profundidade e variação tonal do grafite e das hachuras.
A sua mestria e olhar singular cruzaram fronteiras, consolidando-o como figura central ao intercâmbio cultural. A Fundação Gulbenkian organizou uma exposição de Mário, intitulada «Desenhos e Aguarelas», e a Fundação Oriente apresentou na Sociedade Nacional de Belas Artes a retrospectiva «Goa e outros trabalhos», em homenagem ao mestre que servira como um elo entre Portugal e a Índia.
Na meia-idade, Mário perenizou o seu gosto pela ilustração. A sua maturidade artística culminaria num reencontro linguístico. Ao ilustrar Momentos do meu passado, de Fernando de Noronha, Mário admitiu que o português dessa obra lhe despertou «memórias nostálgicas da juventude em Goa», fechando um ciclo emocional através da palavra e do traço.
Quando regressou a Loutulim, encontrou entre cães, tartarugas e memórias, um cenário congelado no tempo, tal como o deixara meio século antes. O artista inspirou a geração moderna, achando vital documentar o que os olhos novos não viam.
Além da sua ubiquidade em postais, t-shirts e azulejos, os murais de Mário definem a paisagem goesa.
«Goa goza de uma atmosfera distinta do restante da Índia...» afirmava. Embora sentisse ameaçada a herança indo-portuguesa, esperava que o património resistisse e que Goa não abdicasse da sua identidade única, sendo um intransigente defensor da língua e da cultura portuguesas.
Mário foi condecorado pela Índia, Espanha e Portugal, uns anos antes de morrer em 2011. Teve uma despedida sentida, que se repercutiu pela imprensa internacional.
Se «A morte é uma curva na estrada, / Morrer é desaparecer de vista», dir-se-ia que Mário dobrou a esquina, mas continua presente. Desde as ruas de Bombaim até ao Fado de Lisboa, passando pelas alegrias de Goa, Mário é uma janela intemporal para um mundo onde cada rabisco da sua mão guarda um toque da sua etnia e magia.
Mário de Miranda completava agora 100 anos e é, seguramente, um dos maiores símbolos da forte ligação cultural entre Goa e Portugal.
Publicado no Diário de Notícias, 7 de maio de 2026, https://www.dn.pt/opiniao-dn/a-costela-portuguesa-de-mrio-de-miranda#)
Foto, cortesia de Carmita Miranda
Mário and his Times
Mário’s long tryst with Mumbai began at the Times. He had spent his graduation years at St Xavier’s College, but saw the paper up-close on his return to the city in 1952. With 18 years of visual diaries under his belt, he visited newspaper and business offices. He began as a freelance cartoonist with The Current and sold his handcrafted postcards of the city landmarks at the Flora Fountain to make extra money.
The 26-year-old Goan cartoonist’s versatility, spontaneity, and detail created a significant buzz. Before long, editor C.R. Mandy and art director Walter Langhammer invited him to the Times group of publications. The Illustrated Weekly of India was his first stop. Soon, sister publications like Cocktail, Femina, Filmfare, The Evening News, and The Economic Times began to use Mário’s skilful depictions of movement and sound, often featuring his trademark dog.
The rest is history. Mário would soon rank among the best of India’s cartoonists. The job seemed easy, and everything grist to his mill, but finding humour was no mean task. ‘There are times when you don’t feel funny, or may not feel like laughing, but still have to produce a funny cartoon – like a clown who has got to make people laugh all the time, although he doesn’t feel like laughing,’ said Mário.
Add to it the fact that political bigwigs were breathing down his neck—and he had a sure recipe for disillusionment. Mário learned early on that lampooning power involved high risk. When he toned down the humour, cartooning became a ‘serious’ business. ‘Cartoonists are very serious people, and cartoons, no laughing matter,’ he quipped. That’s when Mário began to see himself mostly as a social caricaturist, turning his lens to fashions, crowded trains, music, films, the bustling life of Irani cafés, and so on!
Past the initial scramble for work, Mário began to yearn for the blissful freedom of his diary sketching. He travelled to Portugal and England, drawing merrily. He did cartoons for Mad magazine and ITV and was featured in Punch. He made fast money and friends, but most importantly, his idol Searle’s injunction — ‘Stay on in England, but stop copying me!’— infused him with the confidence to go by himself.
On Mário’s return in 1962, R.K. Laxman, the reigning deity of The Times of India, ‘subtly ensured that the pedestal was not for sharing,’ says Bachi Karkaria. Mário made his mark… ‘His hilarious work is packed with characters from the contemporary scene and his greatest gift is that he makes us laugh at ourselves,’ said a review in a 1960 issue Cocktail, adding, ‘His illustrations too have polished perfection and have been such a success that all our writers want Mario to illustrate their work.’
The period saw the rise of Mário’s characters to iconic status: the efficient secretary Ms Fonseca, the Boss and his crony Godbole; the corrupt politician Bundaldass and his sidekick Moonswamy; the glamorous Bollywood star Rajni Nimbupani and co-star Balraj Balram. For generations of Indians, these characters were more than ink on paper; they remain a mirror to the nation’s quirks, even if changing sensibilities put a negative spin on some of them.
In 1964, the Times of India Press published Mário’s book of sketches, Goa with Love. Successive editors of the Weekly—Khushwant Singh, M.V. Kamath and Pritish Nandy—held him in high esteem. While his literary background and travels gave him a broad outlook, he wore none of that on his sleeve. Vinod Mehta said that Mário abhorred ‘intellectual talk’, his forte being ‘the accumulation of trivia judiciously and harmoniously composed.’
By and by, Mário got excited about capturing moods and ambiences for his pictorial travelogues. To make time for travel, he first joined a new tabloid, The Midday, where his close friend Behram 'Busybee' Contractor was the editor; and then took to freelancing for The Afternoon Despatch & Courier, founded by humorist Busybee. Countries around the globe invited him to hold solo exhibitions. He also illustrated books for the likes of Ruskin Bond, Dom Moraes, Manohar Malgonkar in Bombay, and for several writers in Goa. There was perhaps no other Indian cartoonist whose works turned into murals that now adorn the urban landscape.
In 1996, after Mário and wife Habiba retired to the quiet of Loutulim, the quintessential Goan artist was instrumental in setting up a museum of Christian art at Rachol (now shifted to Old Goa) and restoring the Reis Magos Fort. But the homecoming far from ended his love story with Mumbai, as he continued infusing The Afternoon Despatch & Courier and The Economic Times with his peerless humour.
The Times was thus his first and last stop. In 2011, India grieved when the icon that had humoured it in good times and in bad fell silent… Thankfully, Mário still provides a timeless window into the local and the global. He is an artist for all times and climes.
Mário: with malice toward none - 2
Continued from Herald Café magazine, 2 May 2026
KEY MILESTONES
Mario Carlos do Rosário Brito Miranda (1926–2011)
- Early Life & Education: Born in Daman on 2 May 1926 to Constâncio do Rosário Miranda and Maria Zulema de Brito. Educated in Loutulim and Bangalore, he graduated from St Xavier’s College, Bombay, choosing a BA in Literature over formal art school.
- Career Beginnings: Began freelancing in 1952, eventually establishing a long-term association with the Times Group, in particular, The Illustrated Weekly of India.
- Hobbies: Reading, music, sports, cinema, travel.
- Artistic Style: Shifted from political to social cartooning, creating iconic, intricate depictions of daily life. Also, a visual diarist, caricaturist, painter, illustrator, and muralist.
- Return to Goa & Legacy: Returned to Goa with his wife, Habiba Hydari, in 1996. Key efforts included restoring the Reis Magos Fort and establishing the Museum of Christian Art.
- Awards & Recognition: Honoured with all three Padmas (Padma Shri, Bhushan, Vibhushan), the Goa State Cultural Award, and international awards from Spain and Portugal.
- Passing: Passed away on 11 December 2011 after a battle with Parkinson's disease.
MARIO’S DIARIES
Mário began to draw while he was still learning to walk and talk. To deter him from doodling on the walls, his mother gave him blank diaries, pencils, and pens, suggesting that he record a highlight of the day. He feverishly filled their pages with bright and breezy sketches. He used line drawings and water colours and made a few jottings in Portuguese. Noticing her son’s commitment to journaling, she gave him drawing materials as a Christmas gift every year.
Mário sketched every day for 18 years (1934-1952). His sister, Fátima Miranda Figueiredo, estimates that those sketches number around 6,000. While his eye caught the quirks of his society, he unwittingly froze a microcosm of mid-20th-century Goa in his drawings, which also mirrored universal human nature. In them lies Goa’s plenty, or, as Dryden said of The Canterbury Tales, “Here is God’s plenty!”
Three volumes (1949, 1950, and 1951) have been published in English translation as The Life of Mário, edited by Gerard da Cunha and published by Architecture Autonomous.
MÁRIO’S CHARACTERS
Mário’s diaries portray his busy social life. He had a large circle of relatives and friends with whom he spent carefree moments as well as solemn moments. They went to restaurants and the movies, attended picnics and birthday parties, and went to church, a wedding, or a funeral. But wherever he went, he always noticed something funny.
Mário notices everything and everyone, and spares no one. The serious and the pompous come very especially under his scanner. According to him, ‘when people take themselves too seriously, they tend to be funny.’ While his drawings embody that insightful observation, they don’t merely distort a person’s features; they perceptively bring to light things invisible to the naked eye.
Those who came under his diary scanner included Goan celebrities, village folk, and even his beloved pet animals. It was quite a different ballgame in his cartoon strips for Bombay newspapers or in his travelogues covering Portugal, Spain, France, Germany, the USA, Israel, Japan, or other countries. Occasionally, he reworked his diary ideas, especially for the Bombay newspapers — the city and village types, styles of dancing, scenes at the cinema theatre, the cafés and restaurants, and so on — implying that human nature is the same everywhere.
‘I’m a keen observer of people,’ said Mário, ‘they are generally doing something they shouldn’t be doing.’
Mário: with malice toward none - 1
‘Mário is a subject that has no end.’ That is how Carolina Miranda, the centenarian cousin of the inimitable Goan artist, concludes her foreword to Diário do Ano 1951: Uma Campanha Alegre de Mário de Miranda (‘Diary of 1951: A Cheerful Campaign’), an upcoming book edited by this writer. She offers a close-up of Mário’s visual diary and how it made the rounds among relatives and friends. The Lisbon-based Carolina is a former teacher, poet, visual artist, and author of Histórias que contei ao meu gato — ‘Stories I told my cat’ — her memoirs, in which Mário figures prominently.
About Mário’s own fondness for animals, Fátima Miranda Figueiredo draws attention to her brother’s saying, ‘To err is human; to forgive, canine’ — which speaks volumes about his gentleness and empathy. He gave his pets long names and surnames, making them star characters in his diaries. In these, says Luís Pereira da Silva in his afterword, Mário ‘ably articulated what he experienced every day with lines at once quick and elaborate.’ The retired professor of paediatrics and amateur caricaturist adds that ‘Mário was always noble hearted in his irony, choosing affection and subtlety over scorn and sarcasm.’
Was it the artist’s unmalicious intent, then, that prompted Archbishop-Patriarch Dom José da Costa Nunes to let go when some clerics felt targeted by the young lad’s depictions? He was acquainted with Mário’s diaries and grateful for his help crafting the swan boat to carry the Pilgrim Statue of Our Lady of Fátima from Panjim to Old Goa. Mário, for his part, was relieved that his diaries had sparked guffaws rather than a controversy. ‘That was the first time I was appreciated by someone I didn’t know,’ he said.
Mário was a versatile artist, but best remembered and universally recognised as a cartoonist. Possibly one of the world’s youngest caricature diarists, he turned his journaling habit into a career. In March 1952, seeking an opening in Bombay, he toured editorial offices, his diaries in hand. Thoroughly impressed, The Current editor D.F. Karaka sent Mário to cover a can-can at the Taj Hotel. Mário returned with a rib-tickler that promptly secured him a cartoonist’s position at the weekly.
Mário was an instant hit, yet could not land a full-time role in Bombay. A fellow hosteller, Policarpo (Polly) Vaz of Bastora, suggested that he also draw picture postcards of the city landmarks and sell them at the Flora Fountain. Their bond grew so strong that they planned to move to Latin America together. But suddenly, Bombay proved to be more promising than Brazil when editor C.R. Mandy and art director Walter Langhammer invited Mário to join The Illustrated Weekly of India… and the rest is history.
Mário went on to become one of the country’s best loved social cartoonists. His iconic characters, like Ms Fonseca, the Boss, and clerk Godbole; the corrupt politician Bundaldass and his sidekick Moonswamy; Bollywood stars Rajni Nimbupani and Balraj Balram, appeared in the Times group of publications. Generations grew up with those cartoon characters that are etched in collective memory, although the world’s ever-changing sensibilities tend to put a negative spin on some of them.
All of Mário’s works, be it Goa with Love, A Little World of Humour, Laugh It Off, or others, show him as a tireless seeker of the comic side of life. In Bal Bharati textbooks and Air India in-flight magazines alike, Mário’s drawings were always teeming with human specimens, each with their own story to tell. His hawk eye caused the poet Nissim Ezekiel to remark that there is ‘no escape if Mario is looking at you. The buffoonery of his human figures is redeemed from grossness by their verve, their inner urge towards going places, getting somewhere. It is not always their fault that there is no place to go, nowhere to get except through the corridors of illusion.’
The artist’s own ‘inner urge towards going places’ was clear on his first-ever trip abroad, to Portugal. Later, Mário went freelance as a cartoonist to satisfy his wanderlust. By his magical ability to capture the spirit of a place, he received assignments to sketch vignettes and hold exhibitions across the globe. Veteran editor Vinod Mehta saw no contemporary artist in India coming close to Mário’s command over the grammar of drawing; the alleged ‘lack of venom’ in his repertoire spoke for his ‘objective perspective,’ he said.
According to art critic Ranjit Hoskote, Mário’s confluential, Indic and Iberian, heritage ‘gives him an amplitude of cultural references [and] a historically informed sensibility.’ Bombay’s Cocktail magazine once said that Mário’s illustrations have ‘polished perfection and have been such a success that all our writers want Mario to illustrate their work.’ He took as much pleasure to draw for journalists as he did for literary giants and lesser writers. A much sought-after muralist, he is perhaps the only Indian cartoonist whose works adorn the landscape.
Prakruti Ramesh, in her hitherto unpublished thesis titled Making a Public Aesthetic: Heritage, Humour and Regional Identity in Goa, examines why Mário’s images have fascinated architects, urbanists, educators, and tourism entrepreneurs and have been used as a form of public art in Goa. While she draws many weighty conclusions, one can also say that, thanks to Mário’s malice toward none, he has touched a chord in the Goan soul and is also capable of raising the happiness quotient of the big wide world.
To be continued... See three items in the next blogpost: Key Milestones; Mário's Diaries; Mário's Characters
(First published in Herald, Café magazine, 2 May 2026)
Castellino: A Goan Baritone goes Global
Oscar Castellino (OC) in an interview with Óscar de Noronha (ON), Associate Editor, Revista da Casa de Goa.
For the Goan diaspora, music has always been the thread that stitches together our scattered history. Few artists pull that thread with as much resonance as Oscar Castellino. A baritone, who traces his Goan ancestry to the villages of Assagão and Curtorim, and whose voice bridges the gap between the vibrant streets of Mumbai, the lush hills of Goa, and the grand opera houses of Europe, Oscar is redefining what it means to be a Goan artist in the 21st century.
Lisbon Concert
ON: Lisbon is looking forward to your concert on 8 March. How have you curated the repertoire to resonate with both the Portuguese locals and the Goan diaspora?
OC: This is my first trip to Portugal and it is very exciting for me, due to the rich cultural bonds between Goa and Portugal. I love the sound of the Portuguese language and it has shaped my recent compositions. I would like to showcase some of them at the concert. Along with new compositions, I have selected beloved songs from the Goan tradition as well as beloved operatic tunes. Rodrigo Ayala, the pianist, and I will take the audience on a journey from Goa to Italy to Lisbon.
ON: In a city as historically connected to Goa as Lisbon, what specific emotions or cultural memories are you hoping to stir through your performance?
OC: My grandfather would sing lullabies to me in Portuguese and Konkani. Being exposed to those sounds at a very young age, then travelling out of Goa and India, picking up musical traditions and skills, and now coming back into that tradition to unite my background and my skills in opera — culminating in a concert in Lisbon — is a journey worth sharing with the audience. On the morning of the day when I leave London for Lisbon, I have a rehearsal at the Royal Opera House for Samson et Dalila by Camille Saint-Saëns. Incidentally, he is also the composer of Une nuit à Lisbonne.
Early Music Career
ON: Growing up in Bombay, how did the city's eclectic soundscape — from choral traditions to the Stop-Gaps Ensemble — shape your early understanding of Western music?
OC: My family are from the Sacred Heart Parish in Santacruz West, and we had the privilege of listening to wonderful singers at our church events. I remember in particular Gus D'Lima, who had a fabulous tenor voice and would sing from the loft in the church — that was my first exposure to a classically projected sound. I then joined the Stop-Gaps Choral Ensemble under the direction of Alfred D'Souza, who is a leading figure in the choral world in India and a pioneer in many ways. He would have us project our sound and move at the same time, with quick costume changes — very good training for my career in opera later.
ON: You were a software programmer before being discovered by Patricia Rozario. Could you describe that turning-point moment?
OC: After completing my Physics degree, I received a scholarship from the National Centre for Software Technology to do an advanced diploma in software programming. I then worked in the vibrant IT sector in India in the early 2000s. It was at that time that Patricia Rozario came to India to scout for voices with operatic potential. After hearing me sing, she recommended that I audition at the Royal College of Music in London. I auditioned after completing a workshop with her. I remember the day clearly — I was writing code at my desk in my software job when I saw a pop-up email notification on my screen saying that I had been accepted at the Royal College of Music. That was a pivotal moment in my journey.
ON: Transitioning from a science background to the Royal Colleges of Music and Drama is a massive leap. Beyond the financial hurdles, what was the steepest learning curve you faced when competing with students who had been training since childhood?
OC: When I mentioned to people in the West that I had moved from a software job to a music career, they were often surprised because of the vast difference in financial prospects. However, coming from an Indian background, this opportunity was something so unusual and almost unheard of that when I received a scholarship to study at the Royal College of Music, there was no question that I would take it up. It opened a whole new world to me — something that very few people from India could consider doing.
Coming to London to train in opera was a steep learning curve, not only musically but culturally. My colleagues had trained for over a decade in many cases, and I did not yet know how to read sheet music. We had a very intense training schedule every day and had to prepare songs in various languages — all of them new to me. But as with everything, I knew it would take some time and that I would grow more comfortable. I had a lot of confidence in my ability on stage, and I knew it would just be a matter of time before everything came together. Indeed, in my second year of training I was given my first role in an opera — the character of Dancairo in Carmen — and that was a very good showcase for me.
Singer, Composer, Actor
ON: From performing at the Queen's Diamond Jubilee Pageant in 2012 to singing in major opera houses, which moment has been the most surreal or emotionally fulfilling for you?
OC: There have been many large ovations and curtain calls on the operatic stage. However, interestingly, the most powerful moment for me was when I sang at the Mars Convention in California, USA — performing my own composition about Mars to an audience of scientists, astronauts, and space enthusiasts, who all sang along with me the refrain to “Rise to Mars”. It was a powerful moment because it combined the power of opera with the reality of an ongoing mission. I love to compose and to sing music that moves people and inspires them to dream big.
ON: "Rise to Mars" is an unusual topic for an opera singer. What inspired you to compose that inspirational space anthem? Also, how does your composing process differ from your singing?
OC: Two things inspired me about space. First, I of course have a degree in Physics. But beyond that, I attended a boarding school in the north of India in the hill station of Mussoorie, where the skies were very clear with very little pollution — you could see the night sky and the stars brilliantly. As a little boy, that begs you to wonder about celestial objects, their origins, and what lies beyond. That wonder has always stayed with me, and it came naturally to compose a song with the power of an orchestra to fulfil that imagination.
Composition is really an extension of my singing — I have mostly composed for my own voice, and it is doubly powerful when you sing your own work because it comes from deep within. You also have the liberty to write music that suits your voice. I have also written music for other voices — this past Christmas I wrote a song called “Nas praias douradas de Goa”, exploring the writings of a Goan-Portuguese poet, Gabriel Pais, who was my grandfather, and it was sung by Chelsea D'Souza. Her rendition took the song to another level entirely, which was very fulfilling to witness.
ON: What was the reaction from international listeners when you sang the Konkani Christmas carol "Mari Matek Ballok Zala" at the 2020 Commonwealth Christmas Concert? Why was that performance important to you?
OC: “Mari Matek Ballok Zala”, composed by Manohar Sardessai (lyrics) and Micael Martins (music), was an instrument that not only gave me the confidence to sing more in Konkani, but also reached many new listeners around the world — people hearing the Konkani language for the very first time. Not only did people back in Goa appreciate the song, but people from the opera world wrote to me asking about the language and the composers. I have sung many songs that appeal to particular communities — whether from the opera world or the Goan diaspora — but this song had the power to appeal across tastes and cultures.
This performance was very important to me in hindsight because, although I do not rate my Konkani and thought that listeners would be hard on me if my language was not perfect, I found that Goan people are very supportive when you use the language with purpose and good intentions. That encouraged me to further explore both Konkani and Portuguese-language music.
ON: How has your unique cultural background allowed you to look at operatic roles through a different lens, transforming potential language barriers into artistic opportunities?
OC: One can look at challenges in different ways. You could look at entering the operatic world from an unusual background as a disadvantage — you may not know the norms, you may not have trained as a child, you may face early rejection. On the other hand, if you are confident in your ability as an artist and performer, and you know that you have something to contribute, then when you persist and persevere, you will cut through and come up with something exciting — something that not only adds to the art form you are performing in, but also takes something back to your own culture.
Goa and the Future
ON: Goans have immense natural musical talent. What concrete advice would you give them for honing their craft and pursuing Western classical music? Also, how can they bridge the gap to opportunities in the West?
OC: Because Goan music has influences from both Western and Indian musical traditions, we have a unique situation — a wealth of classically adept musicians who are also able to adapt and improvise. These are powerful tools together for making great music.
I have seen various musicians put out their work on YouTube and other platforms, and these are excellent mediums for getting noticed today. One is also able to take advice and tuition over the internet without even travelling abroad, so a small investment in a few classes with a teacher in another country can give that little edge in making music more successful and accessible to a larger audience.
There are also musicians who visit Goa from various disciplines, and accessing those musicians is very helpful — they are often happy to perform, and many have time to give a lesson or simply have a conversation. I was very fortunate to learn from Patricia Rozario and Mark Troop when they visited India, and that gave me great insights into classical music.
The biggest challenges are also the biggest opportunities — and if you go with that attitude, great things can be achieved.
ON: Your recent videos circulating on social media feature you singing in Konkani, Portuguese, and English. Do you see your work as a form of cultural preservation, or is it more about evolving the Goan identity for a global stage?
OC: My actual main goal is simply to entertain people, inspire people, and bring old memories alive. It is almost coincidental that when I sit down to compose, I find my own culture and background to be a very powerful tool — which is why music in Konkani and Portuguese speaks to me, and therefore speaks to my audience. If in the process it helps in evolving the Goan identity on the global stage, there is nothing like it!
ON: As you continue your career, what is the ultimate legacy you hope to leave behind as an Indian-born, internationally acclaimed baritone?
OC: If I can help continue the legacy and bring to the attention of future generations our great poets of the past and the rich cultural heritage I was exposed to as a child — while also adding something from the modern day that makes it even more powerful — that would be very fulfilling, so that future generations can live and enjoy that tradition, and be proud to be Goan, no matter where they were born or what languages they speak.
The poem by Manohar Rai Sardessai, “Toch Mhozo Ganv” ("That’s my Village"), resonated deeply with me, as it has with so much of my audience — because we are so proud of our Goa and our villages that we never forget them, and identify with them even when generations have not lived there.
Credits: All images are property of Oscar Castellino website https://oscarcastellino.com/ unless otherwise stated.
Banner pic: Karol Wyszynski
First published in Revista da Casa de Goa, Series II, Issue No. 39, March-April 2026, pp 68-71. Published here with additional pictures.
Mariano Saldanha: um distinto académico goês
Ao conhecer um grande senhor nascido apenas duas décadas após a Revolta dos Cipaios[1], senti a corrente do passado transitar suavemente para o presente. Esse notável goês, que emigrara para Portugal no ano da Grande Depressão, passou os anos de jubilado em Goa e faleceu após Portugal ter reconhecido formalmente a conquista indiana da sua terra natal. Era quase centenário, porém, isso é o mínimo que se pode dizer de alguém que marcou na história de várias outras maneiras.
Primeiros anos
Mariano José Luís de Gonzaga Saldanha, vulgo Mariano Saldanha, nasceu em 21 de Junho de 1878, filho de Luís José António Assis André de Saldanha, de Ucassaim, e de Ana Joaquina Ermelinda da Pureza e Dias, de Socorro. Era médico que se fez indologista e pesquisou a história, língua, literatura e cultura indo-portuguesas. Era sobrinho de dois irmãos padres, Joaquim José Santana de Saldanha, fundador de uma escola na aldeia, e de Manuel José Gabriel de Saldanha, professor do Liceu de Nova Goa e autor da clássica História de Goa[2], em dois volumes.
Em 1905, Mariano Saldanha formou-se em medicina e farmácia pela antiga Escola Médico-Cirúrgica de Goa e depois trabalhou como médico em Goa e a bordo de navios. Entretanto, sentindo-se vocacionado para o estudo de línguas indianas, aprendeu o sânscrito com monsenhor Sebastião Rodolfo Dalgado, na Faculdade de Letras da Universidade de Lisboa, e frequentou cursos na Escola Colonial. Na época de Herculano em Portugal, e de Cunha Rivara e de Dalgado em Goa, não era raro um profissional do ramo da ciência interessar-se pelas humanidades; contudo, no caso de Mariano Saldanha, a mudança foi total.
Em 1915, foi nomeado professor de marata e sânscrito no referido Liceu. No ano seguinte, publicou O Curso de Sânscrito Clássico,[3] que compreendia o seu discurso inaugural sobre a importância desta língua e os documentos relativos à criação do curso em questão. Em 1926, traduziu o poema Mêghaduta, ou a mensagem do exilado,[4] de Kalidasa, poeta e dramaturgo da Índia antiga, anotado, prefaciado e acompanhado do original sânscrito.
Docente em Lisboa
Em 1929, Mariano Saldanha mudou-se para Lisboa, agora como professor de sânscrito na sua alma mater, ocupando o lugar que ficara vago desde a morte de monsenhor Dalgado em 1922. Trazia ao povo português uma mensagem de amizade de Rabindranath Tagore, Prémio Nobel da Literatura, quem visitara em Shanti-Niketan em 1927, atraído pela ideia de harmonizar a cultura indiana antiga com ideias internacionais. Após a morte do grande poeta e pedagogo bengalês, Saldanha recordou o encontro na memória que publicou com o título “O Poeta de uma Universidade e a Universidade de um Poeta”[5].
Em 1946, Mariano Saldanha era nomeado subdirector do Instituto de Línguas Africanas e Orientais da Escola Superior Colonial, onde veio a leccionar o sânscrito e o concani até se aposentar em 1948. Publicou a Ultima Lectio[6], e depois da jubilação, um manual, Iniciação na Língua Concani, “especialmente organizado para o ensino, de carácter prático, da língua concani” na referida Escola.[7]
Voltou a Goa em 1950, onde permaneceu cerca de quatro anos, tendo sido depois convidado pelo Governo da Metrópole a participar na elaboração de um projecto de ensino público em concani, para Goa, e na transmissão de programas radiofónicos nessa língua para a diáspora goesa na África Oriental Britânica e no Golfo Pérsico.[8]
Aproveitou a oportunidade para continuar as suas pesquisas na capital.
Concanista de renome
Além de docente, Mariano Saldanha foi um investigador de renome, principalmente como concanista, ou seja, na ‘Concanologia’[9]. No 50.º aniversário da morte do ilustre estudioso, cumpre recordar o seu precioso contributo para os estudos da Língua Concani, que tanto amou e pela qual tantos esforços despendeu.
Dedicou-se sobremaneira à pesquisa fundamental da língua da sua terra natal. Visitou bibliotecas, arquivos e museus de Goa, Lisboa, Évora, Braga, Paris, Londres e Roma, vasculhando livros e manuscritos, à procura da mais pequena pista. Escreveu exuberantemente, com artigos em revistas científicas e em jornais.
Em 1936, escreveu uma valiosa história da gramática concani, no Bulletin of the School of Oriental Studies, que se destacou também pelo pioneirismo.[10] Em 1943, escreveu uma série de artigos sobre “Questões do Concani”, no Heraldo, um diário panginense.[11]
Em 1945, publicou a 2.a edição, fac-similada, com introdução, notas e glossário, de Doutrina cristã em língua concani (1622)[12], de Thomas Stephens, missionário jesuíta britânico, que foi o primeiro inglês a chegar ao subcontinente indiano e pioneiro no estudo das línguas indianas.
Em 1950, descobriu três códices na Biblioteca Pública de Braga, a saber, n.os 771, 772 e 773. As primeiras duas relatam, em concani, histórias tiradas das epopeias indianas, respectivamente, o Mahabharata e o Ramaiana; o último contém três dezenas de poemas em marata, também da mesma fonte; e todos eles escritos em caracteres romanos.[13] Prontamente informou outros interessados, inclusive um dos seus dissidentes ideológicos, A. K. Priolkar.[14]
Cultura goesa
Mariano Saldanha tinha consciência da rara singularidade de Goa, no meio do vasto subcontinente indiano, como síntese cultural do Oriente e Ocidente e detentora de um modo de vida próprio. Por isso, em 1947, mal que sentiu soprar os ventos da mudança política, o seu profundo amor à terra natal levou-o a dar um sinal de alerta.
Fê-lo primeiro por meio de um ensaio intitulado “A lusitanização de Goa”, na revista Rumo.[15] Em Goa, a Repartição de Estatística e Informação reimprimiu-o,[16] e em Portugal, a Agência-Geral do Ultramar traduziu-o em grande parte para o livro Portugal Overseas and the Question of Goa[17]. Ainda hoje é muito citado.
O douto professor sentiu-se feliz como presidente da 5.a edição do Konkani Porixod, conferência a nível pan-indiano, realizada em Bombaim, em 1952. O seu «Odhiokxachem Bhaxonn»[18], ou discurso presidencial, foi publicado em caracteres latinos, que recomendava para o concani moderno. Nessa ocasião afirmou que o concani é uma língua independente do marata e que deveria ser o veículo de instrução primária em Goa.
A propósito do referido Porixod, deu largas ao seu conceito histórico da língua concani, na memória intitulada “A língua concani: as suas conferências e a acção portuguesa na sua cultura”, publicada no Boletim do Instituto Vasco da Gama.[19] Duas décadas antes abordara esse tema no IX Congresso Provincial de Goa[20].
Nesta fase da vida, expressou-se também sobre a música ocidental em Goa[21]; sobre a imprensa seiscentista aí estabelecida, pioneira na Ásia[22]; e sobre a literatura purânica cristã[23], frisando sempre a identidade marcante de Goa.
Os seus trabalhos retratam-no como investigador escrupuloso, crítico exigente e polemista temível.[24]
Últimos anos
Em 1958, Mariano Saldanha voltou de vez ao solar da família e à aldeia natal que ainda mantinha o charme rústico de outrora. Aceitou como facto consumado o desfecho que teve o conhecido Caso de Goa e, em 1967, regozijou-se com o resultado do Opinion Poll, ou referendo. Infelizmente, na vida particular, foi, por um lado, vítima das leis de expropriação do período pós-1961, e por outro, privado das suas últimas economias que havia confiado ao seu antigo empregado em Portugal. Para agravar, saiu prejudicado na reforma devido ao novo contexto político.
Apesar disso, a vida continuou. Com excepção da gota e da surdez, gozava de boa saúde e manteve-se lúcido até ao fim da vida. Escrevia para os órgãos públicos, recebia visitas e aceitava convites para reuniões académicas e outras. E ainda na provecta idade, costumava celebrar o seu aniversário, cercado de familiares e amigos da velha-guarda.
Manuel Leitão, filho do seu antigo cuidador Francisco, recorda-o como um católico devoto, de coração bondoso e leitor assíduo de jornais da língua portuguesa (O Heraldo e A Vida), concani (Vauraddeancho Ixtt, Sot e Uzvadd) e marata (Gomantak), de entre os publicados em Goa. Mantinha relações com os respectivos directores e colaboradores, e no interesse destes, e ansioso por estabelecer padrões elevados, corria com tinta vermelha os jornais concani.
O erudito era consultado em assuntos relativos a Goa e ao concani. Não admira que a sua rica biblioteca com centenas de livros, microfilmes e manuscritos, tivesse atraído jornalistas e investigadores, entre os quais Carmo Azevedo, que, escrevendo no mensário Goa Today, o apelidou de “enciclopédia viva de coisas goesas”[25], bem como os activistas do Konkani Bhasha Mandal. A família doou o acervo ao Xavier Centre of Historical Research, de Goa.
Apesar das cãs, o bom e velho solteirão era paciente com os jovens. Maria Helena Saldanha de Santana Godinho deleitava-se com o saber e a sagacidade do seu tio-avô. Graças à sua prodigiosa memória, este contava-lhe prontamente histórias sobre Akbar, Xivaji e outros vultos indianos, que faziam parte dos currículos escolares do pós-1961; e ela incluía-as nas suas provas.
Tive eu, como menino de 6 anos, o meu primeiro encontro com o professor já então nonagenário. No Hospital do Asilo, em Mapuçá, havia ele discursado e descerrado o busto do Dr. Ernesto Borges, seu sobrinho-neto, oncologista de renome mundial e que cedo pagou o tributo à morte. Foi um momento emocionante. Eu acompanhava a minha tia Maria Zita da Veiga, que havia experimentado o seu toque curativo. Após a cerimónia, perguntaram ao professor se se importaria de esperar um pouco mais pelo transporte para casa. Impressionou-me a sua resposta: “Claro que me importo”. E logo a gargalhada que se seguiu desdizia tudo….
É impossível dizer tudo de uma vez sobre Mariano Saldanha, distinto académico goês que muito honrou a sua terra. Faleceu em 23 de Outubro, mês Mariano, do ano de 1975, quase desconhecido das novas gerações e um tanto esquecido pelas velhas. Deve ser, porém, evocado com gratidão e estudado com atenção, tal como todos os vultos da nossa terra, para que se facilite assim uma transição harmoniosa do passado para o presente.
(Publicado na Revista da Casa de Goa, Serie II, No. 37, Novembro-Dezembro 2025, pp. 33-37)
Referências
[1] Revolta armada, realizada entre os anos de 1857 e 1859, em oposição ao domínio britânico, a qual de Meerut passou para Delhi, Kanpur e Lucknow, cidades no norte da Índia.
[2] 2.ª edição. Nova Goa: Edição da Livraria Coelho, 1925-26. A primeira edição intitulava-se Resumo da HIstória de Goa, publicada em 1898, em um único volume.
[3] Nova Goa: Imprensa Nacional, 1916.
[4] Nova Goa: Casa Editora Livraria Coelho, 1926.
[5] Revista de Faculdade de Letras, Universidade de Lisboa, N.º X, 1943, pp. 57-77.
[6] Anuário da Escola Superior Colonial, Ano XXIX, 1947-48, Lisboa, 1948. Também nos Estudos Coloniais, Lisboa, Vol. I, 1948-49.
[7] Parte I: Noções Gramaticais. Lisboa: 1950. Não consta que tenha saído a Parte II.
[8] “Mariano Saldanha: a centenary tribute”, de Teotónio R. de Souza, in Indica, Vol. 15, N.º 2, Setembro de 1978, pp. 135-138.
[9] Termo por ele cunhado para se referir às “publicações relativas ao concani”, veja-se Monsenhor Dalgado. Esboço bio-bibliográfico. Lisboa: 1933, p. 11.
[10] "História da Gramática Concani," Bulletin of the School of Oriental Studies 8 (1935–37), pp. 715-735.
[11] Heraldo, de 14, 16, 24, e 30 de Março de 1943.
[12] Lisboa: Agência Geral das Colónias, 1945.
[13] Os códices ora encontram-se na biblioteca da Universidade do Minho, veja-se The Old Konkani Bhārata. Volume 1: Introduction, de Rocky Miranda (Margão: Asmitai Pratishthan, 2019), p. xi.
[14] Mais tarde, Panduronga Pissurlencar, José Pereira, António Pereira, Lourdino Rodrigues, Rocky Miranda e outros serviram-se dos mesmos códices para os seus trabalhos de pesquisa.
[15] Rumo, Revista de Cultura Portuguesa. Ano 1, Agosto e Setembro, 1946, pp 343-366
[16] No. 6 da série da Colecção de Divulgação e Cultura.
[17] Lisboa: Agência-Geral do Ultramar, s.d., pp 41-58
[18] Konknni Porixod. Panchvi Boska. 1952. Odhiokx: Dr. Mariano Saldanha, Hachem Bhaxonn. (Mumboi: Fr Napoleon Silveira, 1952) É o único texto seu expresso inteiramente em concani.
[19] N.o 71, 1953.
[20] Congresso Provincial da Índia Portuguesa (Nono), Nova Goa: Tip. Bragança, 1931.
[21] “A cultura da música europeia em Goa”, Separata da Revista do Instituto Superior de Estudos Ultramarinos, Vol. VI (1956).
[22] “A primeira imprensa em Goa”, Separata do Boletim do Instituto Vasco da Gama, N.º 73, 1956.
[23] “A literatura purânica cristã e os respectivos problemas linguísticos e bibliográficos”, Separata do Boletim do Instituto Vasco da Gama, N.º 82, 1961.
[24] Veja-se As investigações de um gramático (Lisboa: Tip. Carmona, 1933), em que escalpela a obra Elementos gramaticais da língua concani (Lisboa: Agência Geral das Colónias, 1929), de José de S. Rita e Sousa, antigo professor da Escola Superior Colonial; e Aditamentos e correcções à monografia O Livro e o Jornal em Goa (Bastorá: Tip. Rangel, 1936) e Ainda a monografia O Livro e o Jornal em Goa (Bastorá: Tip. Rangel, 1938), nas quais interpela o professor liceal Leão Crisóstomo Fernandes.
[25] “A Date with Dr. Mariano Saldanha”, in Goa Today, p. 13.
A Distinguished Goan Scholar
After one has met a grand old man born just two decades after the Sepoy’s Mutiny, history cannot but look like a thing of the present. He migrated to Lisbon in the year of the Great Depression. He spent his post-retirement years in Goa and died several months after Portugal formally recognised the Indian takeover of his native land. He was a near-centenarian, but that is the least of his claims. He made history in more ways than one.
Dr. Mariano Saldanha (1878-1975) of Ucassaim was a physician-turned-indologist who studied history, language, literature, and culture. He was the nephew of Fr Gabriel de Saldanha, the author of the classic História de Goa. In 1905, he graduated in medicine and pharmacy from Goa’s iconic medical school. After a few years of professional practice, he left for Portugal to study Sanskrit under Mgr. Dalgado at the University of Lisbon. It was not unusual then for a man of science to show an interest in the humanities, but his was a total switch.
On his return in 1915, he taught Marathi and Sanskrit at the Panjim Lyceum and translated Kalidasa’s Meghaduta into Portuguese. In 1929, he was back in Lisbon, now a professor of Sanskrit at his alma mater. He proudly carried a message of friendship to the Portuguese people from Tagore, whom he visited in Shantiniketan. In 1946, he was appointed as the deputy director of Escola Superior Colonial’s Institute of African and Oriental Languages. He taught Konkani there until his superannuation in 1948.
Ten years later, he returned to his family home. He enjoyed good health until the very end. His caretaker’s son Manuel Leitão remembers him as a dutiful Catholic with a caring heart. He was a regular reader of Portuguese, Konkani, and Marathi newspapers. Keen to establish high standards, he would red-mark the Konkani papers for the writers’ benefit. It is no wonder that his house became a centre of attraction for Goan journalists and researchers.
On the milestone anniversary of this distinguished scholar, we recall his precious contribution. Mariano Saldanha’s affinity to history and languages was evident from an early age. He pursued fundamental research in the Konkani language in Lisbon. He spent countless hours in libraries, archives, and museums, sifting through books and manuscripts with a scrupulous eye for the smallest clue.
In 1945, Professor Saldanha produced an annotated facsimile edition of Thomas Stephens’ Doutrina cristã em língua concani (Christian doctrine in Konkani, 1622). In 1950, he unearthed sixteenth-century Konkani and Marathi manuscripts in Braga’s public library. The love of truth drove him forward not only to discover but also to share the fruits of his discovery. He did so even with his ideological dissenters, such as A. K. Priolkar.
In 1952, Saldanha was in Bombay as the president of the Fifth Konkani Parishad. Being a strong votary of Konkani in the Roman script, his address was published accordingly. Curiously, this is his only text written in Konkani. When he sensed the political winds of change, he began to emphasise Goa’s distinctiveness in the Indian subcontinent, through its language, Konkani; the Lusitanian influences on its culture; the roots of Western music; its pioneering printing endeavours, and its Christian Puranic literature.
After his death, his family gifted his large book collection to the Xavier Centre of Historical Research. His microfilms and manuscripts show his discipline and patience. He was a member of several academic bodies and published his writings in journals and newspapers. They depict him as a thorough academic researcher, an exacting reviewer, and a formidable polemicist.
However, nothing prevented the good old bachelor from being patient with the youngsters. Maria Helena Saldanha de Santana Godinho told me of how she used to lap up information and pearls of wisdom from her granduncle. While, thanks to his prodigious memory, he recounted stories with ease, she happily fit those anecdotes about Akbar, Shivaji, and other Indian greats, in her school answers.
At age 6, this writer had an unforgettable first encounter with the then-nonagenarian professor. He had unveiled the bust of world-renowned oncologist Dr. Ernest Borges, his grandnephew, at Asilo Hospital, Mapuçá, and addressed the gathering. It was an emotional moment. After the ceremony, the Professor was asked if he would mind a slight delay in his ride home. His stern reply was, ‘Yes, I mind.’ But then, the delayed laughter said it all.
For their part, the citizenry today should mind that the memory of Goan notables is often taken for a ride. They deserve better from our civic, academic, and governmental bodies if we are to achieve a seamless transition from the past into the present.
Banner: Dr Mariano Saldanha delivering the presidential address at the Fifth Konkani Parishad, Bombay, 1952
This article was first published in Herald, Panjim, on Dr Mariano Saldanha's 50th anniversary of death, 23 Oct 2025
A Pope of Great Promise
The outcome of a papal conclave is always a surprise. Not only is the august assembly held cum clave, meaning under lock and key, the huge number of cardinal electors – who double as candidates – makes it impossible to guess who will emerge as the pontiff. Even though well before a conclave begins, different agencies float names of the papabile, these have only indicative value. The cardinal electors make their final decision on the spur of the moment, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. That’s how unpredictable a papal conclave can be.
The secular world, however, looks at it as a numbers game or a power struggle. No doubt, historically, Europe has had the largest number of Popes (235/266), with Italians outnumbering them all (217). Yet it cannot be said that the papal office is racially defined. For instance, in the early centuries even the so-called Dark Continent produced Popes, whereas the white New World got its first one as late as the twenty-first century.
Furthermore, while 15 countries have produced Popes till date, including tiny Albania way back in the eighteenth century, longtime superpower USA had to wait until the twenty-first to have their very own top man at the Vatican. He possibly comes as a divine reward for the resurgence of faith and devotion (particularly with the National Eucharistic Revival) in his native country; but he has not trumpeted his national affiliations.
Finally, there will always be countries not making the grade, but surely no country or race will be deliberately excluded. So, no matter which part of the world the Pontiff comes from, he never fails to surprise.
First Impressions
The rise of Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost as an American is as good a surprise as it would have been if he were an Indian or an Australian. So long as he steers the Barque of Peter with faith and divine authority – that is all that matters.
That is why, even before I got to see the man in the Loggia delle Benedizioni, I felt the blessing of the name he had assumed: Leo XIV. Much as we may say ‘What’s in a name?’, a name is not without historical and cultural significance. It is selected after much reflection and with a purpose. Presently, it symbolises strength, courage, power and the determination to begin a course correction. It represents the divine kingship and majesty of Christ. It stands for the teaching authority of Jesus, who is the ‘Lion of the Tribe of Judah’ (Rev 5:5).
After a quick minute of great anticipation, the French window finally opened. I saw the man in traditional vestments. What most impressed me was his calm and gentle demeanour, humility and unpretentiousness. He came across as a simple and sincere prelate. He seemed authentic and accessible, straightforward and down-to-earth, with the ability to call a spade a spade. While he looked at the cheering crowds with tenderness, he was far from being over the moon with delight.
An unmistakable change in that iconic balcony! I said to myself, let bygones be bygones; the past is behind us – the present and the future are all that matter. The Loggia of Blessings was to me a window on the future. I began to imagine Leo XIV restoring all things in Christ. Just then, I heard the Vicar of Christ's deeply evocative greeting – Peace be with all of you! – ‘the first greeting of the Risen Christ, the Good Shepherd who gave His life for God's flock.’
Like a tender father, the Pontiff wished ‘this greeting of peace to enter your hearts, to reach your families, and all people, wherever they are, all of the people, all over the earth.’ He followed it up with reassuring words: ‘God loves us, God loves you all, and evil will not prevail! We are all in the hands of God.’ Calling disciples of Christ to join hands and move forward, he focussed on the Divine Master alone, saying: ‘Christ precedes us. The world needs His light. Humanity needs Him as the bridge to allows it to be reached by God and by His love.’
And then, lo and behold, there came words and phrases that had almost fallen into disuse: his was a call to be ‘faithful to Jesus Christ, without fear, to proclaim the Gospel, to be missionaries.’ Pledging his service as a true son of Saint Augustine, he turned the people’s gaze to ‘that homeland that God has prepared for us.’ A man of deep faith and experience indeed.
The Holy Father had a special greeting to the Church of Rome and to his diocese of Chiclayo, in Peru, ‘where a faithful people accompanied their bishop, shared their faith and gave so, so much to continue being a Church that is faithful to Jesus Christ.’ Words of gratitude, of encouragement, of zealous devotion are what we heard from the Loggia that blessed night.
But that is not all. His Holiness reminded the gathering that it was ‘the day of the Supplication to Our Lady of Pompeii. Our Mother Mary always wants to walk with us, to be close, to help us with her intercession and her love,’ and befittingly ended his first Urbi et Orbi blessing with a Hail Mary. I felt immensely comforted.
Tasks Ahead
The Lord our God has favoured us with Pope Leo XIV, thanks to the prayers of many zealous souls. For over a decade now, the likes of German Cardinal Gerard Müller, Guinean Cardinal Robert Sarah, US Cardinal Raymond Burke, German Bishop Athanasius Schneider; theologians, lay individuals and groups had been sounding the alarm bell about the waves of the world mercilessly buffeting the Barque of Peter. Providentially, the new Captain will steer the drifting ship back on course.
To my mind, the tasks ahead are many. Meanwhile, to maintain our integrity as Catholics, we must turn the spotlight on three fundamental issues. First, we must stress the importance and non-negotiable nature of the Sacred Tradition and the Holy Magisterium of the Church. As Cardinal Müller recently said, ‘the question is not between conservatives and liberals but between orthodoxy and heresy.’
Secondly, we must address the wrong notion that even some of us Catholics have of the Church’s mission. It is our duty to make Christ known, present, and active in the world. We must lead people toward a deeper relationship with Him and with one another. The Church is not a ‘humanitarian organisation doing social work’ but a spiritual lighthouse that affords a view of eternal life.
Thirdly, how can we recover from the identity crisis that ails us? It is fuelled by gas lighters, some of whom have infiltrated the Church. It is the proverbial smoke of Satan clouding our minds and making us look for validation from the secular world. The antidote is to appreciate, love and be grateful for the treasures of our Faith and our Church.
Let us entrust these issues and many others too long to list here to the leadership and wisdom of Pope Leo XIV and be continually surprised and amazed by God's work in our midst. No matter how hard it is to figure it out, he occupies the Chair of Peter by the express will of God, Who has said: ‘So is My word that goes out from My mouth: It will not return to Me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.’ (Is 55: 11).
Long live Pope Leo XIV!
Banner: https://www.thetablet.co.uk/news/first-urbi-et-orbi-blessing-of-the-holy-father-leo-xiv/
Prevost at the Vatican (2023) https://www.france24.com/en/europe/20250508-pope-leo-xiv-profile-robert-prevost-from-peru-missionary-to-first-american-pontiff
Mario is Forever
When contacted by Dolcy D'Cruz of Goa's leading English-language daily Herald, for comments on the public screening of the documentary "The World of Mario... Seriously Funny!", https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Fj-KEN2kQI , researched and scripted by me for Doordarshan Goa, here is what I said, in reply to the journalist's questions:
On challenges faced
Mario had the world for his canvas, so the main challenge was to be able to truly cover his creative life in a short documentary.
Identifying the right talking heads and liaising with them was another challenge. His sister Fatima gave us valuable inputs. And we also got on board film-maker Shyam Benegal, Indian adman Gerson da Cunha, architect Gerard da Cunha who owns the Mario Gallery, and many others.
https://epaper.heraldgoa.in/oHeraldo?eid=1&edate=22/10/2024&pgid=52727&device=desktop&view=2
On his relevance
Mario is a curious case of a self-trained artist who had different styles, worked with different mediums, and across the print and electronic media.
It is a civic duty to pay homage to the greats of our land. Mario loved Goa and worked towards preserving our culture and heritage. Many tourists used to come here in the hope of finding ‘Mario’s Goa’ but often they were disappointed on seeing that Goa had changed a lot.
On a personal note
Working on Mario took me back to my Bal Bharati textbook. As kids, few must have known that the illustrations were done by a great Goan artist. 
Then, I saw him and his dog in the pages of the Illustrated Weekly. Finally, I met Mario face to face for the first time in 1987, at the Gulbenkian in Lisbon. On his exhibition catalogue he scribbled, ‘For Oscar, Saudades, Mario’, and suddenly I felt I’d known him forever.
Also, he very kindly illustrated my dad Fernando de Noronha’s memoirs, Momentos do meu Passado, which he said had brought back nostalgic memories of his youth in Goa.
To me, those saudades remain – of a gentleman with a twinkle in his eye, an unassuming genius, a lovable character, just like all those that he has immortalized in his illustrations and cartoons.
-o-o-o-o-
Here are a few pictures of the event, which comprised the first public screening of the "Stories and Documentaries" series at DD Goa auditorium, inauguration of the digital screen and felicitation of the documentary team, and superannuation farewell of a DD Goa veteran:
Governor of Goa addressing the audience
Pics, courtesy: Bambino Dias, Thomas Rodrigues Lorraine de Noronha, Miguel Furtado and Emmanuel de Noronha
Life and Times of Alfredo Lobato de Faria
O.N.: Mr Lobato de Faria, thank you for having us!... We cannot but notice the number of art objects surrounding you…. You are a real artist!
A.L.F.: I don’t deny that, but at the same time I don’t wish to praise myself… Really, I do like art; it has been my passion.
O.N.: Did you ever think of going to an art school?
A.L.F.: Well, I couldn’t. I wanted to become an artist, but didn’t have the money. I studied pharmacy, and stayed on there…
O.N.: But you still made time for art! It was your pastime…
A.L.F.: Yes. That ‘Last Supper’ there was my last frame.
O.N.: What was your magnum opus?
A.L.F.: I painted 14 frames depicting the Way of the Cross. It meant wood work, canvas, paints, and all that. Fourteen frames isn’t child’s play!
O.N.: Where are they now?
A.L.F.: They are in the chapel of Nossa Senhora da Piedade, São Pedro. When I realized that the chapel didn’t have the Via Crucis series, I gifted the frames. I don’t know if they are still there… I don’t say this because I did them, but doing fourteen frames wasn’t easy…
O.N.: But they remain preserved for posterity!...
A.L.F.: Well, well, history, too, forgets…
CARNAVAL
O.N.: We recently had the Carnaval in Goa… Any memories of the Carnaval of past years?
A.L.F.: This is no Carnaval, nor were the earlier carnival [parades] the real Carnaval… The original Carnaval was bacchanalian. .. They would drink to the point of losing control of their actions… to the extent that Nero, who was a terrible emperor, banned it, for men and women would enter the parade almost in the nude, with only a fig leaf to conceal the genitals…
O.N.: And what about the Goan Carnaval?
A.L.F.: Ours is no Carnaval either… it’s plain commerce. Just commercial publicity in the parades…
O.N.: As far as I know, you were one of those who stitched costumes for the floats? Any recollections?
A.L.F.: I was mostly the one making most of the costumes. I would sit down and keep stitching those costumes. My house would be strewn with rags. I was passionate about those things, their costumes, etc…
PANJIM
O.N.: Talking a little about Pangim: did you always live here?
A.L.F.: No; I first lived in Ribandar, and then came to Pangim. When my daughter Maria de Fátima was in the third year of Lyceum, Ribandar felt a little far away. There was no public transport; and although I had a motorcycle, it wasn’t good enough for three people. So I shifted to a house behind Fazenda.
O.N.: Tell us something about personalities that you remember from your Lyceum days?
A.L.F.: I had distinguished teachers. Prof. Leão Fernandes: he was knowledgeable and knew the art of teaching…. And then another teacher who would write on the origins of the language… he gave good lessons on the Portuguese language: Salvador Fernandes. Once he called me for a Latin lesson. I was weak. He looked at me and said, ‘Oh, I understand why you are weak… You’re wearing shoes with crepe soles. No stability.’ Since then I started studying Latin, and he gave me 12 out of 20 marks, which coming as they did from Salvador Fernandes was a lot, like 20 marks from some other teacher. And after he retired, I wrote him a thank-you letter, for all that he’d taught us through newspapers and even over the phone… I would phone him sometimes… And that other one was a savant, Egipsy de Sousa. He could teach any subject. He used to teach us chemistry, about gases, methane, the gases of the marshes, ethane, and all those bonds…. They were teachers who knew how to teach.
O.N.: You were a regular contributor to Heraldo, weren’t you?
A.L.F.: I started a page in Heraldo under Dr António Maria da Cunha. Later, in O Heraldo under Prazeres da Costa, I started a page called ‘Página dos Novos’. He was a very demanding person. He would immediately strike off… but he was truly a writer. He would take his pen and write, write and write… And then came Carmo Azevedo, who reviewed my book, Sombras…
O.N.: That’s right! We have to talk about your book of poems, titled Sombras... Why ‘Shadows’?
A.L.F.: Why? Because everything was full of shadows then, there was no joy; everything was dark, hence mine was a book of shadows…
O.N.: Who did the cover?
A.L.F.: I painted the cover depicting a harp and a woman…
FAMILY
O.N.: Mr Lobato de Faria, could you tell us a word about your family, please!
A.L.F.: Lobato de Faria is an illustrious family. I don’t say this because it’s mine. The family belongs to the nobility and founded the morgadio of Nerul, the first morgado being Manuel Freire Lobato de Faria, who came to Goa in the 17th century. Nerul belonged to him. He made history! Imagine, he caught Arya, who was a bandit that would infest the areas of China and Goa, and nobody could catch him. He caught him, handcuffed him and sent him to Portugal. I belong to that noble family.
O.N.: So, later, the family settled in India…
A.L.F.: Yes. Since then it has been living here. He was a nobleman and fidalgo cavaleiro (knight) of the Royal House who had blood relations with Nuno Álvares and King Dom João I! Well, today … I could still use my coat-of-arms, which I have, but…
O.N.: It’s a well known family…
A.L.F.: And that lady in Portugal…
O.N.: You mean Rosa Lobato de Faria, writer and actor, belongs to the same family…
A.L.F.: Yes. She is from another branch. He was supposed to be sterile, but had 7 children and proceeded to different places. One of them remained in Portugal, and Rosa is from that branch.
CENTENARIAN
O.N.: Mr Lobato de Faria, now that you’ve touched 100, what thoughts are uppermost in your mind?
A.L.F.: My dear friend, whoever has crossed 100, what else should he expect?... I would say I am happy with my God and with friends. I thank God for my family…. What God did was something very special. He handed life to humanity and He remained above. Indeed, that was the best thing He could do: offer His own life for humankind.
O.N.: Mr Alfredo Lobato de Faria, you are a man of faith. You’ve lived to be a hundred, in faith. You are now surrounded by love and care from your daughters, four grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren. You’ve lived your life all the while helping to improve other people’s life. I thank you for your hospitality and bid you goodbye, wishing you good health and happiness. Thank you!
A.L.F.: Thank you!
(Mr Alfredo Lobato de Faria passed away in April 2018, two months after this interview, at the age of 101 years. He lies buried in the cemetery of St Agnes, Panjim)
Use the following link to listen to the original interview in Portuguese on the YouTube channel of Renascença Goa: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3ylH2bkNzA
First published in Revista da Casa de Goa, Jan-Feb 2021