Acquarelle jottings
The swimming pool at Perola Do Mar in Candolim is a place where day trippers come to swim. Families with young come and break every rule in the resort. They drink and eat at the swimming pool, dive, make noise and they leave filthy plastic all over, after chucking their packages of chips and things. Most can't swim at all, but a dip in the pool is a must. It is cool.
This chap here in blue was there, literally like the pillar of strength to his son, who was so scared of getting into the pool that he remained sitting on his dad's shoulders all the while they were in the pool.
I saw how dead statues can become objects of admiration and worship to angels. The size is all that mattered: The dead statue is BIG and the angels small.
...And I saw a cock in Fontainhas. He has a personality. He reminded me of my years in Fontainhas between 1970 -85. Not much has changed, I think, except economic conditions. People in Mala have become cockier!
That one is a thing that comes again and again. Sometimes it is a tiger who is carrying his belongings and his house and wife and all, other times it is people or birds who carry their homes on their heads or backs. I had seen Luis Bunuel's film-don't remember which- but in it, there is a rich man who is so tired of his way of being that he goes on a holiday. He carries with him a sac of his burden. After checking in a hotel, he rests, freshens up and free from his burden, decides to go for a walk to explore the town a bit. But as soon as he steps on the street a funny thing happens. The sac of his burden clings to his back. That, I thought then, was witty cinema. You can't rid of your worries by escaping them.
A friend of mine has become a succesful lawyer. I met him on a Sunday. Court were closed due to elections etc. and although it was a Sunday this lawyer friend of mine was wearing his tie and a spotless clean white shirt and Black pants. We sat down in casa Xetyo to drink. More of his friends joined us and a passionate conversation soon started. During the course, he made three points with perfect logic, but he craftily kept shifting premise. Most were impressed, I was too, for it showed me how 'arguing' must work in courts. But I objected to his line of argument. I remember giving him a funny analogy: I said that his case was like shifting of IPL venue from India to South Africa and back, two times. He seemed to like what I said, for he laughed heartily. Narendra Bodke was an intelligent student as I remember him.
I notice many grandfathers with their grandchildren. Perhaps their wives are busy cooking since their daughters or daughters-in-law and their sons or in law sons must be officers. Children need to be looked after, right? These old shriveled up men tend to their 'fruit' in this manner to be useful. How much of the old values can they infuse into generation next. Old values seem redundant. They seem to influence modern life negligibly, if influence at all.
The swimming pool at Perola Do Mar in Candolim is a place where day trippers come to swim. Families with young come and break every rule in the resort. They drink and eat at the swimming pool, dive, make noise and they leave filthy plastic all over, after chucking their packages of chips and things. Most can't swim at all, but a dip in the pool is a must. It is cool.
This chap here in blue was there, literally like the pillar of strength to his son, who was so scared of getting into the pool that he remained sitting on his dad's shoulders all the while they were in the pool.
I saw how dead statues can become objects of admiration and worship to angels. The size is all that mattered: The dead statue is BIG and the angels small.
...And I saw a cock in Fontainhas. He has a personality. He reminded me of my years in Fontainhas between 1970 -85. Not much has changed, I think, except economic conditions. People in Mala have become cockier!
That one is a thing that comes again and again. Sometimes it is a tiger who is carrying his belongings and his house and wife and all, other times it is people or birds who carry their homes on their heads or backs. I had seen Luis Bunuel's film-don't remember which- but in it, there is a rich man who is so tired of his way of being that he goes on a holiday. He carries with him a sac of his burden. After checking in a hotel, he rests, freshens up and free from his burden, decides to go for a walk to explore the town a bit. But as soon as he steps on the street a funny thing happens. The sac of his burden clings to his back. That, I thought then, was witty cinema. You can't rid of your worries by escaping them.
A friend of mine has become a succesful lawyer. I met him on a Sunday. Court were closed due to elections etc. and although it was a Sunday this lawyer friend of mine was wearing his tie and a spotless clean white shirt and Black pants. We sat down in casa Xetyo to drink. More of his friends joined us and a passionate conversation soon started. During the course, he made three points with perfect logic, but he craftily kept shifting premise. Most were impressed, I was too, for it showed me how 'arguing' must work in courts. But I objected to his line of argument. I remember giving him a funny analogy: I said that his case was like shifting of IPL venue from India to South Africa and back, two times. He seemed to like what I said, for he laughed heartily. Narendra Bodke was an intelligent student as I remember him.
I notice many grandfathers with their grandchildren. Perhaps their wives are busy cooking since their daughters or daughters-in-law and their sons or in law sons must be officers. Children need to be looked after, right? These old shriveled up men tend to their 'fruit' in this manner to be useful. How much of the old values can they infuse into generation next. Old values seem redundant. They seem to influence modern life negligibly, if influence at all.
2 comments:
( The lawyer) That's a superb drawing!
BP
Thank You! Just gave it to Ted Mesquita last night.
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