A JOURNALISTIC LEGACY: THE AWARDS I WAS PROUD TO INITIATE

 A JOURNALISTIC LEGACY: THE AWARDS I WAS PROUD TO INITIATE

How an initiative to recognise excellence in journalism and photography became an institutional recognition in Goa.

By John Aguiar

The National Press Day, observed every year on November 16, is an occasion to reflect on the role of the media in a democratic society and to recognise the contribution of journalists who work tirelessly to keep the public informed. This year, as the journalist awards and photography awards are presented in Goa, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction and pride, not merely as a former government information officer, but as someone who had the opportunity to initiate this recognition system.

There are certain initiatives in one's professional career that remain particularly close to the heart. For me, the institution of awards recognising excellence in journalism and photography is one such initiative.

During my tenure in the Directorate of Information and Publicity, I felt that the contribution of journalists and press photographers deserved formal recognition from the Government. Journalists are often the unsung contributors to society. They work under challenging circumstances, sometimes at odd hours and in difficult situations, to bring news, information and public-interest issues before the people. Photographers, too, play an equally important role. A single photograph can sometimes communicate what hundreds of words cannot.

The missing dimension: Lifetime Achievement

However, there was one important aspect that was not incorporated in the original draft notification. The provision for a Lifetime Achievement Award was omitted, despite my belief that journalism should also recognise those who have dedicated their entire lives to the profession.

Awards for professional excellence recognise achievements in a particular year or period. But journalism is also about a lifetime of commitment, courage, integrity, sacrifice and service to society. There are senior journalists whose contributions cannot be adequately measured through annual awards. Their experience, commitment and influence have helped shape the media landscape of Goa.

I was particularly conscious of this aspect and felt that a veteran journalist who had devoted an entire lifetime to journalism deserved a special place in the recognition system

Although the Lifetime Achievement category was not included in the original notification, I pursued the matter separately. With the approval of the Government, the first Lifetime Achievement Award was presented to the legendary Goan journalist Lambert Mascarenhas, a towering personality in Goan journalism whose contribution to the profession was immense.

It was a moment of great satisfaction for me that the Government agreed to recognise his lifetime contribution, even though the category had not formed part of the original notification.

 Interestingly, after my retirement, the rules were subsequently amended to formally incorporate the Lifetime Achievement Awards. I was happy to learn that the provision which I had originally envisaged and advocated had eventually found its place in the rules.

An initiative that continues beyond one's tenure

Government service is governed by procedures, files, approvals and official responsibilities. Officers come and go, but good initiatives should outlive the tenure of the individuals who conceived them.

That is perhaps the most satisfying aspect of this entire journey. The awards continue to provide a platform for recognising the work of journalists and photographers. The inclusion of the Lifetime Achievement category has further strengthened the spirit behind the initiative.

I do not claim credit for the entire process. The proposal could become a reality because my superiors supported it, the Secretariat appreciated it and the Government ultimately approved it. Institutional decisions are always the result of collective effort. However, I take legitimate pride in having conceived the idea, prepared the draft notification and pursued its implementation.

As the awards are presented on November 16, I extend my heartfelt congratulations to all the awardees. Their achievements deserve appreciation, and I hope these awards will continue to inspire younger generations of journalists and photographers to uphold the highest traditions of the profession.

For someone who began his journalistic journey in 1978 and subsequently served in the Government's Department of Information and Publicity, journalism has always been more than a profession. It has been a passion and a lifelong commitment.

Today, looking back, I feel particularly happy that an idea I initiated while in government service has grown into an enduring institutional recognition.

One may retire from office, but the satisfaction of having contributed something meaningful to an institution remains forever.

That, for me, is the real award.

GORVAM PADVO: WHEN OUR COWS WERE FAMILY AND GOVARDHAN POOJA WAS A CELEBRATION OF LIFE

 GORVAM PADVO: WHEN OUR COWS WERE FAMILY AND GOVARDHAN POOJA WAS A CELEBRATION OF LIFE

By John Aguiar

Some memories never fade. They remain deeply embedded in our hearts, bringing back the fragrance of our childhood, the warmth of family and the simplicity of a life that we may never experience again. For me, Gorvam Padvo, or Govardhan Pooja, is one such beautiful memory of my childhood days at Dhavli.

In those days, our household was not just made up of human beings. We had our own little animal family too. We had three female cows and one male cow. Their names were Mangal, Vijay, Shanul and Busha. They were not merely cattle kept for milk or agricultural purposes; they were members of our family.

Adjacent to our mud house was a cowshed, which we called Gotto. Next to it was a separate shelter for our goats, known as Ghudd. These were an integral part of our everyday life.

My mother would milk the cows, and whenever a new calf was born, it was nothing short of a celebration in our home. The arrival of a calf brought immense happiness. One of the special treats we looked forward to was Kharvas, prepared from the first milk after the birth of a calf. That traditional delicacy had a taste and sweetness that no modern-day dessert can ever replace.

A special day for our animal family

Gorvam Padvo, celebrated as Govardhan Pooja, was a major occasion in our household. It was a day when our gratitude towards the cows and the entire animal family found expression through rituals and affection.

We would wake up early in the morning. The first task was to clean the Gotti. After that, we would take our bath and get ready for the pooja.

Our cows were lovingly cleaned and bathed. Their feet were washed, tilak was applied on their foreheads, and beautiful garlands made of marigold flowers, locally known as zendu, were placed around their necks.

We would then offer them polle, a traditional preparation, with devotion and affection.

It was a beautiful sight to see our cows standing adorned with flowers, looking almost like honoured guests in our household. There was no feeling that we were worshipping an animal merely as part of a ritual. It was an expression of gratitude towards creatures that contributed so much to our lives.

When the boys arrived with Dhendlo

The celebrations did not end with our household pooja. Local boys would come to our house carrying Dhendlo, with an image of Lord Krishna. Their arrival added another dimension to the festivities.

The sight of the boys, the image of Lord Krishna, the decorated cows and the festive atmosphere around our house made Gorvam Padvo a truly memorable occasion.

These traditions were not merely religious observances. They brought the neighbourhood together and strengthened the bond between people, animals and nature.

My mother's love for the cows and goats

My mother had a special affection for our cows and the herd of goats. She would take them towards the nearby hillside so that they could graze safely on the grass.

I often think about those days and the extraordinary bond she shared with these animals. She knew them individually, cared for them and treated them with tenderness. I too developed a deep affection for them.

Perhaps it was from her that I learnt to respect animals and appreciate the natural world.

Our family was small — just three of us: my Pappa, my mother and me. We lived happily in our modest mud house at Dhavli. We did not have the comforts that today's generation takes for granted, but we had something equally precious: togetherness, contentment and a close relationship with nature.

Life without electricity, but full of light

Those were the days when electricity had not yet reached the comforts of our everyday existence. We depended on petrol diyas for lighting. A battery-operated radio was our window to the outside world.

Our angan, the courtyard outside the house, was regularly smeared with cow dung, following the traditional practice of keeping it clean. The surroundings were close to nature, and snakes were not an uncommon sight.

Life was different, certainly not easy by today's standards, but it had its own charm. We learnt to live with nature rather than distance ourselves from it.

There were no television screens, mobile phones or the distractions of modern technology. Yet there was so much to observe, experience and cherish. The cows, goats, hillside, courtyard, the sounds of the radio and the simple routines of village life created a world of their own.

A childhood that remains alive in my heart

Today, when Gorvam Padvo or Govardhan Pooja comes around, my thoughts travel back to Dhavli. I remember Mangal, Vijay, Shanul and Busha. I remember the Gotto and Ghudd, my mother's hands lovingly milking the cows, the arrival of a newborn calf, the taste of freshly prepared Kharvas, and the beautiful sight of our cows decorated with zendu garlands.

I also remember my mother walking towards the hillside with the cows and goats, ensuring that they grazed safely.

Those days may have disappeared, but the emotions remain.

Festivals are not only about rituals, celebrations or religious beliefs. They are also about memories, relationships, gratitude and the values passed on from one generation to another.

For me, Gorvam Padvo is not just a festival dedicated to cattle or a day of Govardhan Pooja. It is a reminder of my mother, my childhood, our humble mud house at Dhavli and the beautiful animal family that was once an inseparable part of our lives.

We may have had very little in terms of material possessions, but we were rich in love, affection and contentment.

Those were simple days, lived in a simple home, surrounded by nature. And perhaps, those were some of the richest days of my life.