Goa and Beyond

For some western-minded thinkers, and for some ‘locals’ too, Goa is feels like Tennyson’s land of the Lotus-eaters. Even for Goans (natives of Goa) who may have moved on, it is still ‘home’ and comfort if not a refuge. It feels for many like a safe haven when times get tough or troublesome. Life and the need for work and survival often urged people to wander off beyond their ‘homes’ like Ulysses or Vasco da Gama yet for many it would seem that the inner human desire was to stay close to the shore and not move on beyond the sunset. For Remiz, our Dad, it certainly was the land that gave him identity and belonging and perhaps a sense of security when life (in his teens) was still uncertain and his horizons unclear. He never forgot his roots and when he got more confident in life he kept every Goan, and everyone with even the faintest affiliations to Goa, close to him, helping them wherever and whenever he could. What became apparent was that all through his career he found and recognized Goans (and those who had links to Goa). It was a natural association without showing any apparent bias or partiality.

Though there aren’t many records to go by to prove he was a ‘man for all seasons’ there is enough evidence to show that he kept up his links to Goa and Goans, and to his ancestral property in Vaddem, in Soccoro in the Bardez sector of Goa. He always maintained his family connections. Dad’s family in Goa had set up arrangements with a family of neighbours. This family looked after the property when Remiz was away so that, when the ‘badkars’ (Konkani for Land Owners) came by over the winter months, this family looked after them and their needs. Dad’s frequent trips to Goa show that this arrangement worked well and protected his links to Goa and to his property.

Goa (one of the small states in India) was a colony of Portugal since the 16^th Century. It was annexed by India in 1961. Goa is located on the western side of India, not far below Mumbai, in the area known as the Konkan coast. It is about 300 miles south of the sprawling city of Bombay (now Mumbai). Today it has easy access by road, railway, air or sea. Several domestic airlines operate from all parts of India to Goa while some international flights by Air India, Qatar Airways and Oman Airways also operate flights during the week. Goa in terms of space is the smallest state by area and the fourth smallest by population. Probably because of its association with the Portuguese and with tourism (its vast beaches, and its cuisine and easy-going lifestyle) it is now one of the most frequented holiday hubs for many Indians and foreigners. Some European groups like the British and the Germans have almost super-infiltrated into the local population and some have set up their own stores and housing, and one of them (apparently dubiously) even their own security system.  

After his retirement from the Railways in 1957, from Pandu station, his last posting in the railways, Dad travelled to several parts of India looking for a place to settle. He finally landed in Bhusaval. He had members of his extended family already established there and he needed openings for his second son, Orland who was now in his twenties. Jarlath, his eldest son had chosen a career path for himself and had earlier flown off the nest, much against the will of Remiz. He had to almost ‘seize the day’ for his second son, Orland, to try and salvage a family plan that seemed to be going pear shaped.   Orland hadn’t done brilliantly well in the academic field and in spite of his apparent bravado he was in many ways a novice in the ways of the world. Dad used his experience on the railways and some of his contacts to get Orland sort of wedged into the railways brand.  Meanwhile his daughter, Nympha, just junior to Orland had got engaged to a distant cousin, George, also in Bhusaval. Another close relative, an aunt, a practicing Doctor, who acted like an education advisor to Remiz, was also based in Bhusaval.  So like a bunch of ‘Goa-files’ Dad decided he would settle for Bhusaval however remote or unfamiliar it appeared to many of his close friends and relatives.

Dad was born on 1^st Oct 1901 at 4 am and was baptised on 9^th October in Bhusaval (Maharashtra, India). When he was 5 years old his father died and left behind his mum (Granny, whom all the children knew & lived with, in Mariani, Assam) four sons and an only daughter. After his father’s death he left Bhusaval and went to the Vaddem village home/property, in Soccoro, Bardez, Goa. Dad spent 12 years in Goa. He learnt Portuguese to a fairly good conversational standard. At 15 years of age his Uncle, a Priest, who was the Vicar of the Kurla church took him away. So he left Goa for Bombay (Kurla) on 19^th May 1915. He probably went by train because he reached only the next day, the 20^th. But he immediately began learning English from 5^th June 1915 in the Kurla Catholic Church School.  Dad apparently had a knack with languages. He not only picked up a good level of English but we know that, years later, he also learned conversational Hindi and Bengali besides being fluent in Konkani.  In Bombay, he passed the Second Standard in a year and was then sent by his Uncle Priest to the Gloria Church’s Antonio D’Souza’s School. Here he was taken on to the 3^rd standard in May 1916. He passed his 3^rd in May 1917, and went to the 4^th. On February 9^th 1918 he suddenly had to leave school as his uncle had to retire and could no longer support him.

In September 1927 he went to Goa to attend the First Mass of his brother Anton Sebastiao, celebrated on 15 October 1927. He spent around Rs.900 on that occasion. There were apparently some family squabbles mainly between him and his brother Marks, who tried to claim all the glory and the expenses for the ordination, which actually Dad did. Dad tried to put aside 2 wine bottles for his sister Beatriz in Poona. But Marks’ wife, Olinda, made up some gossip about Dad and this seems to have annoyed Marks terribly. To avoid trouble Dad ran away. No one knew where he had gone and his mother thought he had drowned in the well nearby. Dad however returned late one night (1 am) when it seemed to him the commotion had subsided. Dad however just moved on with his life and went to Goa again in September 1927, this time to get married. But there were strong objections from Marks who tried in various ways to block the marriage.

But for Dad, Remiz, Cupid had earlier struck one her arrows. He had fallen for a girl. In those extremely conservative and secretive deal days. Remiz had his eyes on Ophelia, a teenager, about 10 years his junior, from Cotula (Khotla), a village in Saligao, which really wasn’t all that far from his village, Vaddem in Soccoro.. The sort of central shopping central area for all these villages was the town of Mapsa (a two-hour walk from either village), where Friday was the market (or shopping) day when people from the villages around would visit either to buy or to sell. That’s where everyone went for shopping or gossip. Besides traders there was a whole bunch of teenagers on the hunt for prospective partners or link-ups. Parties were not yet the order of the day but young blood was never known to have bridled passion or interest. The moment Remiz spotted Ophelia he knew, like a scene in the Romeo and Juliet story, that he had got his Maid Marian, (the lady in the Robin Hood story) his life’s match! The two seemed to have fallen in love instantly. It would appear that Ophelia too seems to have fallen for his dashing looks.

Apparently Ophelia used to go every Friday to the Mapsa market to sell garlands of ‘abolim’ flowers 9abolim interestingly is the flower of love – about which many songs and poems in Konkani are composed). We’ve not really mentioned this earlier but Remiz was a lover of songs and used to compose verses that he occasionally sang at informal parties or get-togethers. We know that he wrote one about Ophelia. Unfortunately we were not able to find it. So, that’s where Remiz went every Friday: to see his Maid Marian. We are not sure why Sunday is mentioned in the diary because everyone really travelled out only on Fridays, the market days. There was also some hidden opposition to Ophelia from Dad’s own mother. She, Claudine Sequeira (D’Souza) was a class-conscious person and did not approve of the match. But Dad has his way. He took leave from his job in Bhairab and brought Ophelia out of Goa – a sort of elopement. We have a further entry into the diary, made much later on 26 April 1964, where he records that a Fr Valentin Fernandez of Saligao passed away in Dar es Salaam (Tanzania, Africa). He was the one who had blessed the engagement rings of Remiz and Ophelia in Saligao, and had even given a speech on that occasion.

Life moved on for Remiz (Dad) and he took a 14-day leave again on 8^th February 1928. He went to Pune and there on 15^th February 1928 in the Church of St Ignatius at Kirkee (just outside Pune) at 8.00 am he got married to Ophelia. He got back to Pune the next day and then moved back to Bhairab on 23^rd February 1928. It is difficult to find out all the reasons and connections, but Dad tried for a job on the NW Railway through his brother-in-law Frank Pinto but failed. He then went to Lahore (now in Pakistan) with Ophelia on 8^th May 1929 and was there for 22 days. He returned from there on 10^th June 1929. But Ophelia was keeping poorly. She had a miscarriage on 10^th June 1929. Later that year, on 26^th December 1929, he was fined Rs.5/- He had to undergo a medical examination (probably due to the earlier accident injuries). He passed it on 26^th April 1930.

Later, he put his wife for confinement on 18^th May 1930 in Cottage Hospital, Pahartali (Chittagong). On 6^th June 1930, at 15.20 Dad’s prized son, Jarlath was born. He was baptized by Fr Goggin in Chittagong on 17^th June at 16.00 hours, and was named Jarlath Artemio Januarius. They all returned to Bhairab Bazaar on 19^th June 1930. Earlier he had been to Goa with his wife and son on 9^th March but returned alone to work, as his wife was not too well. She was expecting. His second son was born in Goa on 10^th August 1931, and was named Orlando Deusdedit (In Latin it means God Given). Dad seems to have had a bunch of ‘chatterboxes’, almost like ‘paperazzi’ in today’s world, after his blood because he got a serious warning from the DTS about slack working on 31^st December 1931

In September 1935 after hearing that his sister was in great distress in Mahim (Bombay), Dad took leave and went to Goa where he met his brother-in-law, Valentine Abreu (Vallu—based in Africa –Kenya-Mombasa –Ophelia’s eldest brother). All the while his mother was with him but she seemed to show little or no interest in family matters and this only intensified Dad’s problems. Dad writes about this period of his life in his diary as one of ‘trouble and no peace’, in Goa. Then once again Dad went to Bombay with Vallu searching for his sister. They got a lawyer to help sort out things as legally as they could. All the difficulties they experienced here are not explained but Dad managed to convince the brother-in-law that he was taking them all for a change. In reality he was taking them all away permanently. What dad’s plans were we do not really know, but he genuinely had concern for the family and felt responsible for the family, something he felt and did all his life.

The Chittagong period of Dad’s life was probably the brightest period of his life. He was also somewhere near the peak of his career in the Railways. The family was growing too and so was his circle of friends. Nympha, a girl, the third child, was born on 10^th Nov 1936. Neopole, a boy, was born on 2^nd May 1939, and soon after, on 3^rd March 1942 another boy, Trifi (as his maternal grandmother loved to call him) came along. The family had grown and added to the bunch were the five cousin children of his sister, Beatriz – Bertha, Gerson, Violet, Francis and Rita.

While in Chittagong, even with the limited knowledge of English that he had (i.e. the little High School education he had managed) Dad passed with flying colours all the Departmental Examinations of the Railways in the Traffic Department. Perhaps it should be mentioned here that there are these two broad areas on the Railways, the Traffic and the Loco. Some members of Dad’s wider and close family worked in both departments. Jarlath remembers Dad spending time on his books and notes preparing for his exams. It paid off in the end as he came out on top, placed ahead of all the other Anglo-Indians who also sat for these exams. The result was that in April 1938 Dad was promoted to be Station Master of Chittagong, the Headquarters of the ABR (Assam-Bengal Railways). It must be mentioned here that Jorhat, only 10 miles away, also had an airport that the British used. So, Dad was placed in Mariani at quite a strategic point for communication both for the Railways as well as the British Government which was then in power.

When World War 2 broke out, in Chittagong of those days, the Dicksons were one of the families that had a good radio. Dad followed the news with keen interest, and every night he briefed the family on the War developments. The older ones, especially Jarlath, Bertha and Gerson listened eagerly. The volume of work in the Railways was now very heavy and office hours were irregular. Added to this were the growing political unrest and the Bengal Famine.  Then life or Fate perhaps suddenly turned it all around. To begin with two more Dickson children –Aquila in 1945 and Libby in 1947— came on the scene. But more momentous events were happening around on the sub-continent (mid 1945 to mid 1947) when the country was in ferment over independence. Mariani was a Muslim-Hindu township and so quite a political hot-bed with the Hindu-Muslim tension quite high. Being an important railway station and junction Dad had to go the station at odd hours and was given little notice of what to expect. There were crowds and leaders of both religious groups passing through and often Dad’s presence at the station was required.  Mariani also brought on one of the saddest days in the Dickson family. Iry, the third child in the family, contracted polio and passed away on 16 March 1944. In spite of all the best care given to her by the American Army doctors in the military base there. Iry was taken for burial to Lumding, where she was buried near the Railway Chapel there as there was no Christian cemetery or chapel in Mariani.

But there were more momentous plans afoot in the Dickson saga! On the night of May 27, 1947, Jarlath took the train to go to Chittagong, to do his Matriculation examination (under Calcutta University). Actually there were other reasons for this important trip. He had already decided to leave home and join the Holy Cross Brothers, much against the will of Dad who wanted him to go to the UK to join up to become a Tea Planter. All the correspondence and paper work had already been done to process his case to become a Tea Planter. But, earlier, that night Libby was born and Jarlath was named God-father. Teresa, an Oraon tribal nurse from the tea gardens, was named the god-mother. This is quite a stark revelation of the openness and attitude of Dad. He was always broadminded and treated everyone as friends and equals. But this departure of Jarlath was a massive blow to all Dad’s plans. In fact, in his diary entry of 26 January 1951, Dad wrote: ‘My eldest son Jarlath went off his own accord and joined the Holy Cross as a Brother in 1947 in Chittagong. This broke my heart.’                           

Dad was also the ‘catechist’ and ‘sacristan’ for the Don Bosco priests who came regularly once a month for Mass, from the Golaghat mission, which was celebrated in the Dickson house. Dad offered the same service when he moved to Pandu years later, when the priests came from the Guwahati church.  For this generous and unstinting service to the church Dad was awarded the Pro Ecclesia et Pontifice (for the Church & the Pope –in Latin) medal by Pope Pius XII in 1950. The medal was given to Dad in the Guwahati church with Mum, Nympha and Granny around. A similar tribute was given to Dad when he was in Bhairab Bazaar by the Holy Cross Superior, Fr Lawrence Graner CSC, who later became the first Archbishop of Dhaka. The CSC (Congregation of Holy Cross) priests came to the Dickson house in Mariani to celebrate Mass for the people around which always included groups of tea-garden workers too.

Dad passed away in Bhusaval railway hospital on16 June 1967. He collapsed about a month before he died in what seemed like a stroke. He couldn’t speak and had to be attended to all the time. His son, Neopole made all the arrangements for him at hospital and all Dad’s children, except for Jarlath were able to come by. Trifi who was then posted in Kolkata was there for most of that one month and spent several hours helping with Dad’s care. Nympha and Dad’s wife Ophelia of course were there most of the time. At the time our aunt, Doctor Couto, who practised in Bhusaval, was also around. It appeared to everyone around that Dad was conscious of what was happening around him during those last moments of his life. He was also probably aware of who was around because it looked like he was waiting for the arrival of his sister Beatriz and his brother Priest arrived. They were not there when he took seriously ill. What was amazing was that as soon as they came in he passed away. It was almost as if he was waiting for them. He died as he lived, calm, serene and blessed. His death left a void that showed that here was a man who was much appreciated by his friends and dearly loved by his family.

Jarlath stayed in Bangladesh, where he is gratefully remembered as the great Principal of St Placid’s School Chittagong, though he spent his last years in Dhaka. Orland progressed in his railway career and eventually climbed the ranks to become a mail train driver, a prestigious job on the Railways. He has two sons and a daughter. Nympha had no children but remained dedicatedly close to Neopole and Aquila and their children. Neopole rose to a senior rank in the Railways and became a respected member of the Bhusaval Church. Neopole’s three boys and Aquila’s two boys are settled and doing well. Libby married into the large Phillips family – where many boys had gone off to different Gulf States where they worked out in prosperous careers. Libby’s two boys and one girl have done well in life. Trifi first did many years of committed work in institutions in India but later moved on and branched off into the education sector in the UK. After his passing away all the family members spent several hours reminiscing about Dad and his memorable life. They spoke mainly about the way he always cared for others –his family, his friends and his workers. That also seems to have been the underlying thought whenever people spoke about him. His selflessness is what stands out as a powerful indicator of what he always wanted for others. May his beautiful soul rest in the peace he so deserves!

By Trophy D’Souza (trodza@ymail.com) 02.06.21