Saw this article by Mr Derek Almeida, in the 'Panorama' section of Navhind Times today. Very nice logic. Liked it very much. You may like it too.
Give us this day our daily booze
Published on: January 22, 2012 - 12:01
The frequent raids by the Election Commission on shops, restaurants and politicians houses to unearth liquor has taken the kick out of the polls and turned them into a tame academic affair. What’s an election without the booze? It’s like a football match without the ball.
Somebody has to protest and being a blue-blooded Goan, domicile certificate and all, I decided to write these Delhiwallas a letter to remind them how ‘ajeeb’ we are
By Derek Almeida
Dear amigo (CEC),
Your decision to raid liquor stores and politicians’ houses has left me in a quandary. I get the drift of your whole campaign. Your aim is to prevent candidates from bribing us with booze.
Nice logic. It might work in New Delhi, but down here it is quite difficult to go and vote when sober. Have you seen the choice of candidates in Goa? No one in their sober minds would vote for any of them. But after two shots of feni, trust me, we see things more clearly, even though we sometimes cannot find our election cards.
I am worried about mining, even though I am not affected by the dust and the traffic jams. So, the other day, I went to meet an MLA to question him on the issue of illegal mining and what he intended doing about it. When I threw my question at him he said, "Forget about it. There is no illegal mining."
He was either telling the truth or lying. I couldn’t tell. So I went home and poured myself a stiff ‘feni’. After three such drinks I too forgot about illegal mining and got totally immersed in my quest to find the toilet. Now do you understand why staying drunk is a way of life here?
You must have heard about the regional plan. I am concerned about that too. I am concerned about a lot of things, like turtles, the Siberian crane and the jackfruit, which by the way is disappearing from the Goan table. Forgive me for digressing, but dining tables have become so small that it is difficult to place a jackfruit without displacing the curry bowl.
Coming back to the regional plan, I had a strong argument with the minister at the secretariat on the issue. I objected to everything, from the quality of the paper on which the map was printed to the sudden disappearance of the local chapel. My house was missing too, and so was the hill. I would have given the chap a hammering, but for the fact that I was sober and a prompt reminder from my wife that I was referring to the wrong map. So you see how bad things can get when we are sober?
I immediately adjourned the meeting, found a local bar and had a shot of feni, by which time the MLA had vanished along with the map and I went home and had a good siesta. You should try the siesta sometimes. It does wonders for the liver.
That regional plan encounter was a long time ago. Then on Christmas Day you chaps announced elections, which you do without fail every five years. I don’t know how you do this, but I suspect you have an alarm in your head that goes off every five years.
Anyway, the announcement brought my MLA back to my doorstep. It’s this door-to-door thing that candidates undertake every five years. I was on my second drink when the door bell rang. I opened the door, glass in hand.
"Who are you and why are you swaying so madly?" I asked.
"Honey," my wife said, "he is not swaying, but you are."
I could swear by the Archbishop’s cassock that I was not swaying and would have produced a gyroscope to prove it, but liquor has a way of diminishing all protests.
"Have we met on Facebook?" I lisped.
"Honey, he is the MLA," my wife said.
Anyway, I kept staring at him as he launched into a monologue which was interspersed with a list of things he had accomplished in the last five years. He was doing this at top speed because he had other houses to visit. Only after I had downed the entire glass of feni was I able to stay abreast with his speech.
So you see how difficult it is to keep up with our politicians? The only way of living with them is by staying perpetually drunk. That being the case, who should pay for the drinks?
Here’s a suggestion. Since you fellows always talk about state funding for elections how about putting some aside for the booze? Democracy after all, comes with a price tag. And while you are pondering this could you keep the raids on hold?
From a Goan who mixes drinks with politics