The Mama I Longed For

 The Mama I Longed For

By John Aguiar

For most children, a mama—a mother's brother—is often a source of affection, protection, and cherished memories. In our culture, the bond between a child and a mama is considered special and enduring. Unfortunately, my own story was very different.

My mother was born into the respected Rau Valaulikar family, a Gaud Saraswat Brahmin household during the Portuguese regime in Goa. She fell deeply in love with my father, Diogo Aguiar, a man from a different community and faith. Their decision to marry was not welcomed by many members of either family. The strongest opposition came from my mother's brother—my mama.

Unable to accept his sister's choice, he distanced himself from her after the marriage. The divide that began between brother and sister eventually extended to me, an innocent child who had played no part in the decisions of the previous generation.

As a child, I often heard stories about the love that mamas shower on their nephews and nieces. I longed for such a relationship. Whenever I saw other children enjoying the company of their maternal uncles, I wondered why I did not have one.

In my early years, my mother would simply tell me that I had no mama. Perhaps she wished to shield me from the painful reality. As I grew older, she gradually revealed the truth about her family and the circumstances that had separated them. I learned that my mama was alive, but he had never accepted my mother's marriage and, consequently, had never embraced me as his nephew.

The desire to meet him remained in my heart. I wanted to know him, to speak with him, and perhaps to understand the man who was my mother's brother. Yet opportunities were few. My mother herself was not keen on encouraging contact, knowing the hurt and rejection she had experienced.

I saw my mama only once in my life, in Shantinagar. It was a brief encounter, but one that remains etched in my memory. There was no warm embrace, no affectionate conversation, and no opportunity to build the bond I had imagined for so many years. It was simply a fleeting moment between two people connected by blood but separated by circumstances and old wounds.

Time moved on, and eventually my mama passed away. By then, the distance between him and my mother had become permanent. Even after his death, my mother chose not to visit him. She remained steadfast in her decision. The pain of the past and the stubbornness on both sides had built walls that neither was willing—or perhaps able—to cross.

Looking back today, I feel neither anger nor resentment. Instead, I feel a quiet sadness for what could have been. Family relationships are precious, yet they can also be fragile. Sometimes pride, social expectations, and old grievances deprive us of years that can never be recovered.

I often wonder how different my life might have been had my mama accepted my mother's choice and welcomed me into his life. Perhaps I would have gained not only an uncle but also stories, guidance, and memories that every child deserves.

Yet life teaches us to find peace with what was not meant to be. My mother's courage to follow her heart gave me life and shaped the person I am today. While I never experienced the love of a mama, I inherited something equally valuable from her—the strength to endure rejection and the wisdom to understand that love cannot be forced; it can only be given freely.

The mama I longed for remained distant throughout my life, but the lesson his absence taught me remains close to my heart: family bonds are strongest not because of blood alone, but because of acceptance, forgiveness, and love.

Echoes of Sanguem and Tar: My Mother's Stories

 

Echoes of Sanguem and Tar: My Mother's Stories

John Aguiar

Some of my earliest memories are not my own. They are stories lovingly narrated by my mother—stories of people, places, customs, and beliefs that belonged to a Goa of another era.

She often spoke of her ancestral connections with the Rao Valaulikar family near the Vithoba Temple in Sanguem, the Nadkarnis of Benn, and the years she spent with her parents at Kapileshwari. Yet among all these places, it was her mother's ancestral home at Tar, Mapusa, that occupied a special place in her heart.

As a child, she spent many happy days there, playing with cousins and friends in the spacious compound of Milagres Church. Tar was more than a village; it was a world of family bonds, religious traditions, and childhood adventures. The Bhobe household, to which her mother belonged, was a respected Vaishnava family and often hosted distinguished religious personalities.

Among them was His Holiness Shrimad Indirakant Swamiji of the Partagali Mutt. My mother would recount with reverence how Swamiji regularly visited the Bhobe residence. These visits were important occasions marked by Padya Pooja ceremonies and Mudra Dharan rituals. Devotees gathered in large numbers to seek blessings and participate in the sacred observances.

The Saraswat Brahmin community has historically been divided into two major religious traditions—Smartha and Vaishnava. My grandmother belonged to the Vaishnava Bhobe family but had married into the Smartha Valaulikar family. In those days, sectarian distinctions were observed more strictly than they are today.

One incident remained etched in my mother's memory. During one of Swamiji's visits, a Mudra Dharan ceremony was in progress. Being a young girl, she innocently approached the Swamiji along with the other children. Swamiji applied the sacred mudra to her, but shortly thereafter realized that she was the daughter of Anande, who had married into a Smartha family. According to the prevailing customs, she was not expected to participate in the Vaishnava ritual. Swamiji immediately questioned the family and sternly reprimanded them for allowing her to come forward.

My mother never narrated this incident with bitterness. Rather, she remembered it as an illustration of the strict discipline and observance that characterized religious life in those times. She often said that Swamiji Indirakant Maharaj was a highly disciplined spiritual leader and that simply being in his presence was considered a blessing.
She also spoke of a time when many ascetics and spiritual leaders preferred traditional methods of healing and spiritual acceptance of life's final stages. In popular memory, saints were often believed to embrace their destiny with detachment rather than rely extensively on modern medical interventions.

Her stories of Sanguem were equally fascinating. She recalled learning the local Bhati dialect from her childhood friends and spoke affectionately about the cultural diversity of the region. There were tales of the Valaulikar household, stories associated with the Nadkarni family of Benn, and numerous local legends passed down through generations.

Among these legends was the enduring belief connected to the Sangam River. Villagers would often say that the river claimed a life every three years. Whether fact, coincidence, or folklore, such stories formed part of the collective memory of the community and reflected the deep respect people held for the forces of nature.

Today, many of the people who populated my mother's stories are gone, and much has changed in Goa. Yet through her recollections, a vanished world continues to live on—a world of ancestral homes, temple bells, village friendships, religious traditions, and family histories intertwined across generations.

These stories are more than memories. They are fragments of Goa's social and cultural heritage, preserved not in books or archives, but in the living narratives passed from parent to child. Through my mother's voice, the Sanguem of the Valaulikars and Nadkarnis, and the Tar of the Bhobes, continue to remain alive in memory

एक दूजे के लिये : धर्माच्या पलतडचो मोग

 Ek Duje Ke Liye: A Family Bound by Love Beyond Religion

John Aguiar

Some families inherit wealth, some inherit land, and some inherit traditions. Our family inherited something far more precious — the courage to love beyond boundaries.

Romance perhaps runs in our blood.

My paternal grandfather, Joao Carlos Aguiar, was known in Tisca, Ponda, not merely as a handsome man, but as a true romantic at heart. He took immense pride in his moustache and beard, carrying them with elegance and confidence. In those days, such features were often seen as marks of masculinity and charm.

It was in Borim that destiny quietly unfolded for him.

One afternoon, he saw a young girl named Angelica Fernandes leisurely swinging outside her house. Her beauty captivated him instantly. Gathering courage, he proposed to her. But Angelica promptly refused. The reason was simple — she disliked his beard and moustache.

Most men would have walked away wounded. But my grandfather was not one to surrender easily. With characteristic confidence, he challenged her saying that one day she would indeed marry him.

How exactly he won her heart remains a mystery lost in time. Perhaps it was persistence, perhaps sincerity, or perhaps destiny itself had already decided. Eventually, they married, and people still remember them as one of the most romantic couples in Tisca, Ponda.

My grandmother Angelica was known for her striking golden-brown hair that shimmered beautifully in the sunlight. Together they became a symbol of companionship, affection and devotion. Their love was not loud, but deep and enduring.

The same spirit of love flowed into the next generation.

My father too chose love over social barriers. He fell in love with my mother, a Gaud Saraswat Brahmin girl whom he met in Kapileshwari. She belonged to the Rau Valaulikar clan, and during those days, inter-religious marriages — especially between a Christian man and a GSB Hindu woman — were extremely rare and socially difficult.

Yet they chose each other.

Their marriage stood as a quiet example of mutual respect and understanding. Religion never entered their relationship as a dividing force. My mother never converted to Christianity, nor was she compelled to. She chose to remain a Hindu throughout her life and eventually passed away as one. But faith never weakened the bond between them. Love remained greater than labels.

Perhaps unconsciously, I too followed the same path.

I fell in love with Savita Manerkar from Mala, Panaji, while working as a staff reporter with the Herald. Our friendship gradually blossomed into love, and eventually marriage. Like the women before her in our family story, my wife too retained her Hindu faith after marriage.

Our children were also raised without compulsion or pressure to convert. Though they carry the surname Aguiar, they continue to remain Hindu. For us, identity was never about forcing faith upon another person. It was about coexistence, dignity and acceptance.

Sadly, many self-proclaimed liberals fail to understand such relationships. Ironically, those who preach tolerance often struggle to accept families like ours that naturally embody it. Love, when genuine, does not demand surrender of identity. It creates space for two identities to coexist peacefully.

The story did not end with my generation.

My son Navdeep too married his college sweetheart, Sitam, now lovingly known as Navya Aguiar. Once again, love crossed social lines effortlessly, continuing a legacy that perhaps began many decades ago with a bearded romantic standing before a girl on a swing in Borim.

Looking back, I realise ours is not merely a family history. It is a journey of love triumphing over social divisions. Across generations, relationships in our family were built not on conversion, coercion or conformity, but on affection, respect and freedom.

And perhaps that is the purest form of love of all.

Ek Duje Ke Liye was not just a film title for us. It became a way of life.

एक दूजे के लिये : धर्माच्या पलतडचो मोग

जॉन आगियार

कित्येक कुटुंबांक वारशान संपत्ती मेळटा, कित्येकांक जमीन-जुमलो, तर कित्येकांक परंपरा. पूण आमच्या कुटुंबाक वारशान मेळ्ळेली सगळ्यांत मोलाची गजाल म्हणजे — सिमांच्या पलतडीं वचून मोग करपाची हिंमत.

कदाचित मोग आमच्या रगतांतच आसा.

म्हजे आजोबा, जूआंव कार्लोस आगियार, तिस्का-फोंड्या भागांत फकत देखणो मनीस म्हणूनच ना, तर मनान एकदम रोमँटिक मनीस म्हण ओळखताले. तांकां आपल्यो मिश्यो आनी खाडाचो खूब अभिमान आसलो. त्या काळांत खाड-मिश्यो हो दादल्यांचो पुरुषी रुबाब आनी आकर्षणाचें प्रतीक मानताले.

तांच्या जिण्यांत मोगाची चाहूल लागली ती बोरी हांगा.

एका दनपरां ताणें एंजेलिका फर्नांडिस नावाच्या एका तरणाटी चलीयेक तिच्या घरासांमुख झोपाळ्यार निवांत घोलतना पळयली. तिचें सौंदर्य पळयताच तो तिच्या मोगांत पडलो. धाडस करून ताणें तिचेकडे लग्नाची मागणी घातली. पूण एंजेलिकेन तका नकार दिलो. कारण सोपें आसलें — तिका ताचे खाड आनी मिश्यो आवडल्या नाशिल्यो.

चडशे दादले त्या नकारा उपरांत फाटीं सरतले आसले. पूण म्हजोळ आजो सहज हार मानपी नाशिल्ले. ताणें आत्मविश्वासान तिका सांगलें — “एक दिस तूं म्हज्याकडेच लग्न करतलें.”

ताणें तिचें मन कशें जिंकलें, हें आयज कोणाकूच नीट खबर ना. घडये ती ताची चिकाटी आसतली, घडये प्रामाणिकपण, वा घडये नियतीचो खेळ आसतलो. शेवटाक तांचें लग्न जालें आनी आयज लेगीत तिस्का-फोंड्यां भागांत तांची गणना एकदम रोमँटिक जोडप्यांत जाता.

म्हजी आजी एंजेलिका तिच्या भागराळ्या-तपकिरी केसां खातीर खूब परिचित आसली. सुर्याच्या उजवाडांत तिचे केस चकचकताले. दोघांचो एकमेकांचेर अपाट मोग आसलो. तांचो मोग दाखोवपाचो नाशिल्लो, पूण खूब खोल, शांत आनी जीवितभर टिकपी आसलो.

मोगाची हीच परंपरा फुडल्या पिढीततूय चलत रावली.

म्हज्या बापायनय समाजाच्या वण्ठींपरस मोगाक जास्त महत्व दिलें. कपिलेश्वरी हांगा तांची वळख एका गौड सारस्वत ब्राम्हण चलयेकडे जाली — ती म्हणजे म्हजी आवय. ती राव वाळावलिकार कुळांतली आसली. त्या काळांत एका ख्रिश्चांव दादल्यान आनी जीएसबी हिंदू चलयेन केल्लें आंतरधर्मीय लग्न ही एकदम दुर्मीळ आनी समाजाक कठीण मानपी गजाल आसली.

पूण तांनी एकमेकांची निवड केली.

तांचो संसार परस्पर सन्मान आनी समजुतीचें सुंदर उदाहरण आसलें. धर्म कन्नांच तांच्या नात्यांत वणत जावन उबो रावलो ना. म्हज्या आवयेन  ख्रिस्तांव धर्म स्वीकारलो ना, आनी तशें करपाचो आग्रोय तिचेर केलो गेलो ना. ती आयुष्यभर हिंदूच रावली आनी हिंदू म्हणनूच ह्या जगांतल्यान गेली. पूण ताका लागून तांच्या नात्यांत केन्नाच पैसावो आयलो ना. तांच्या मोगाफूडें धर्माचीं लेबलां ल्हान पडलीं.

घडये नकळत हांवूय त्याच वाटेन वचत रावलो.

‘हेरॉल्ड’ वर्तमानपत्रांत स्टाफ रिपोर्टर म्हणून काम करता आसतना, म्हजी वळख मळा-पणजीच्या सविता माणेरकर हाचेकडे जाली. ओळख मैत्रींंत बदल्ली, मैत्री मोगांत फुल्ली आनी शेवटाक आमीं लग्नबंधनांत अडलीं.

म्हज्या कुटुंबांतल्या आदल्या बायलांप्रमाणेंच म्हज्या बायलेनूय लग्ना उपरांत आपलो हिंदू धर्म कायम दवरलो. आमच्या भुर्ग्यांवरूय धर्मांतराचो कसलोंच दबाव आयलो ना. तांच्या नावामागीर ‘आगियार’ हें आडनांव आसलें, तरी ती हिंदूच रावलीं.

आमच्या खातीर ओळख म्हणजे दुसऱ्याचेर आपलो धर्म लादप नाशिल्लें. ती आसली सहअस्तित्व, सन्मान आनी स्वीकार.

दुर्दैवाची गजाल म्हणजे आयज कितलेच स्वताक उदारमतवादी म्हणपी लोक अशा नात्यांक समजून घेवपाक कमी पडटात. सहिष्णुतेच्या गजाली करपी लोकूय केन्ना केन्ना आमच्या सारख्या कुटुंबांक स्वीकारपाक तयार नसतात. खरो मोग केन्नाच कोणाची ओळख मिटोवपाची मागणी करना. उलट दोन वेगळ्या ओळखी शांतपणान एकठांय रावूंक शकतात, हाचो आदर करता.

ही कथा फकत म्हज्या पिढीपावेतच थांबली ना.

म्हजो पूत नवदीप हाणेंय आपल्या कॉलेजांतल्या प्रेयसी सितम हिच्याखडें लग्न केलें. आयज ती नव्या आगियार म्हण ओळखली वता. परत एकदां मोगान समाजाच्या सीमारेषा सहज ओलांडल्यात. आनी बोरयेच्या झोपाळ्या मुखार उब्या आशिल्ल्या एका दाडीवाल्या रोमँटिक तरनाट्यापासून सुरू जाल्ली परंपरा फुडें चालू रावली.

आयज फाटीं वळून पळयतना म्हाका जाणवतां की, ही फकत आमच्या कुटुंबाची कथा ना. ही मोगान समाजाच्या वण्टीचेर मेळयल्ल्या जैताची कथा.

पिढ्यानपिढ्या आमच्या कुटुंबांतलीं नातीं धर्मांतर, दबाव वा एकरूपतेचेर उबी नासता. ती उबी आसात मोग, परस्पर सन्मान आनी स्वातंत्र्याचेर.

आनी घडये होच मोगाचो सगळ्यांत शुद्ध अर्थ आसत.

“एक दूजे के लिये,  हें आमच्या खातीर फकत चित्रपटाचें नाव नाशिल्लें — ती आमची जगपाची पद्धत जाली

काळजाचो भूगोल

 

काळजाचो भूगोल
लेखक: जॉन आगियार
कुटुंबाची काणी केन्नाच एका सरळ वळींत आसना; ती स्थलांतराची, धर्मीक विधींची आनी अकल्पित भेटींची एक सोबीत नक्षी आसता. म्हजो स्वताचा कौटुंबिक नकाशो पुराय गोंयाक कंवटाळटा—दक्षिणेतल्या दाट रानां सावन ते उत्तरेतल्या ऐतिहासिक न्हंयच्या देगणां मेरेन. आयज जरी हांव 'रेईस मागूस' किल्ल्याच्या सावळेंत, वेरे वाठारांत रावता आसलो, तरी म्हजी वळख फोंड्याच्या आध्यात्मिक मातयेन, सांगेंच्या घट्ट मुळांनी आनी म्हापशाच्या वेपारी वारशान विणिल्ली आसा.

म्हजी आवयली वंशावळ सांगेंच्या राव वालावलीकर घराण्या पसून सुरू जाता. हें नांव गोंयच्या अंतर्भागातल्या अस्सल मातये कडेन जोडिल्लें आसा. काळा प्रमाण ह्या कुटुंबाचो प्रवास कपिलेश्वरीच्या पवित्र वाठारा वटेन वळ्ळो. थंयच्या देवळांच्या शांत सावळेंत म्हजे आवयन तिच्या बापाय वांगडा आयुष्यातलो एक म्हत्वाचो काळ सारलो. कपिलेश्वरीच्या वाऱ्यांत लेगीत पुर्विल्लेपण आनी भक्तीचो गंध भरला. याच आध्यात्मिक भूयंत नशिबाचे गूण जुळून आयले आनी आवयची वळख म्हजे बापूय दियोग आगियार हांचे कडेन जाली. हो मेळ म्हळ्यार दोन वेगळ्या संवसारांचो एक दुर्मिळ आनी मोलाचो संगम आशिल्लो.

आवयची सुरुवातीचीं वर्सां जरी वालावलीकर परंपरेंत गेलीं, तरी तिच्यो यादो चड करून उत्तरे कडेन, तिच्या आवयच्या माहेरा वटेन वळटात—म्हापशाच्या 'तार' वाठारांतल्या भोबे घराण्या वटेन. त्या काळांत 'स्मार्त' आनी 'वैष्णव' पंथीयांत लग्न जावप सामान्य नाशिल्लें; कितलेशेच फावटी ताका विरोध जातालो. म्हजे आजो आनी आजी—गोपाळ राव वालावलीकर आनी सावित्री (आनंदी) भोबे—हांचें लग्न म्हळ्यार खोल रुजिल्ल्या जातीय सीमा हुंपून बांदिल्लो एक पूल आशिल्लो. जरी म्हाका तांकां मेळपाचें भाग्य मेळ्ळें ना, तरी पुर्वजांच्या काणयां वरवीं ते म्हज्या मनांत जिवंत आसात.

म्हजी आवय मोतूबाय राव वालावलीकार (शालीनी आगियार/शालिताई ) ल्हान आसतना म्हापशेंच्या मिलाग्रीस चर्चच्या आंगणांत खेळून व्हड जाली. तिचें संवर्धन एका बहुविध संस्कृतायेंत जाल्लें. देखूनच, आमी व्हड जाताना आवयन सांगिल्ल्यो पुराणांतल्यो पुर्विल्ल्यो कथा आनी बायबलांतल्यो नैतिक बोधकथा एकमेकांत मिसळिल्ल्यो आसताल्यो.
एक याद आवय सांगताली—स्वामी इंदिराकांत जेन्ना भोबे घरांत येताले, तेन्ना घराचें रूप देवळा वरीच जातालें. 'मुद्रा धारण' विधीच्या वेळार एक ल्हान चली म्हणून ती वळींत उभी रावली. स्वामीजींनी तिची वंशावळ वळखून अजापान म्हजे आजीक विचारलें, "वालावलीकरांची चली मुद्रा घेवपाक कशी आयली?" ही गजाल त्या काळांतल्या गुंतागुंतीच्या सामाजीक रचनेचो एक निरागस भाग आसा.

आयज वेरेच्या पंचायत वाठारांत रावताना म्हाका जाणवता की हांव एका खाशेल्या उंचायेचेर आसां. म्हज्या दक्षिणेक सांगे-फोंड्याचो संगम आसा, तर उत्तरेक म्हापशाचें तें पुर्वजांचें आंगण.
कौटुंबिक परंपरे प्रमाण म्हजें स्वताचें आयुष्यय मेळपाचो एक मार्ग थारला. म्हाका पणजेच्या सविता आगियार हांच्या रूपान हिंदू जोडीदार मेळ्ळी. आमचीं भुरगीं—अंजली (अभियंता) आनी नवदीप (वकील)—हिंदू परंपरेंत वाडलीं. म्हज्या पुतान सितम (नव्या) नाईक हिचे कडेन लग्न करून हो वारसो फुडें नेला आनी आतां म्हजो नातू निवान हाच्या रूपान फुडली पिळगी आकाराक येता.

नदयेच्या देगेर रावताना म्हाका जाणवता की आमी सगळे आमच्या पूर्वजांच्या प्रवासांची बेरीज आसात. वालावलीकर आनी भोबे घराण्यांनी पाळिल्ले विधी म्हज्या आयच्या आयुष्याचो पायो आसात. वेरेच्या उंचाये वेल्यान फाटल्यान वळून पळयताना म्हाका पुर्वजांनी तुडयल्ल्यो त्यो वाकड्या-तिकड्या वाटी दिसतात—अशो वाटी ज्यो देवळाच्या दाराचेर आनी चर्चच्या चौकांत एकमेकांक मेळ्ळ्यो, जेणें करून तांच्यो काणयो म्हज्या माध्यमांतल्यान फुडल्या पिळग्यां मेरेन व्हांवत उरच्यो.