Glimpses of India

A Baker from Goa

Line by line explanation

OUR elders are often heard reminiscing nostalgically about those good old Portuguese days, the Portuguese and their famous loaves of bread.

Our elders many times fondly talk about nice period of earlier time when people from Portugal were rulers of Goa. They also talk about Portuguese people and big pieces of bread made during those days. [Loaves is plural form of loaf]

Those eaters of loaves might have vanished but the makers are still there. We still have amongst us the mixers, the moulders and those who bake the loaves.

People who used to eat loaves of bread may have now disappeared. [Meaning that nowadays people do not eat loaves of bread]. But people who used to make bread still live in Goa. People who used to mix floor, mould dough and make loaves still live in Goa.

Those age-old, timetested furnaces still exist. The fire in the furnaces has not yet been extinguished.

Very old furnaces are still being used since very long time. These furnaces are still in working condition.

The thud and jingle of the traditional baker’s bamboo, heralding his arrival in the morning, can still be heard in some places.

The sudden heavy sound and the musical sound made by the bamboos of the traditional baker used to announce his arrival. Such sounds can still be heard in some places of Goa. [Meaning that tradition of bakers is prevailing in some parts of Goa]

Maybe the father is not alive but the son still carries on the family profession. These bakers are, even today, known as pader in Goa.

Probably the elders who used to make loaves are not alive now. But the next generation of youngsters are continuing the family profession of making bread. These baker are called ‘pader’ in Goa.

During our childhood in Goa, the baker used to be our friend, companion and guide. He used to come at least twice a day. Once, when he set out in the morning on his selling round, and then again, when he returned after emptying his huge basket.

When we were children, the baker was our friend, colleague and guide. He used to come to our house at least twice in a day. In the morning he used come at the start of his morning round to sell bread. And he also used to come after selling all the breads. His big basket used to be empty at that time.

The jingling thud of his bamboo woke us up from sleep and we ran to meet and greet him. Why was it so? Was it for the love of the loaf? Not at all.

We woke up from our sleep by the thud and jingling of bamboos of bakers. We used to run out of our house to meet and welcome him. We did not run out because we liked loaves of bread.

The loaves were bought by some Paskine or Bastine, the maid-servant of the house! What we longed for were those bread-bangles which we chose carefully. Sometimes it was sweet bread of special make.

The loaves of bread used to be bought by our maid servants. Their surname used to be Paskine or Bastine. We wanted to buy bread which was in the shape of bangles. Sometimes baker used to bring especially made sweet bread.

The baker made his musical entry on the scene with the ‘jhang, jhang’ sound of his specially made bamboo staff. One hand supported the basket on his head and the other banged the bamboo on the ground.

The baker announced his arrival by the musical sound made by his long bamboo stick. His one hand supported the basket on his head. He hit his bamboo staff on the ground by the other hand.

He would greet the lady of the house with “Good morning” and then place his basket on the vertical bamboo. We kids would be pushed aside with a mild rebuke and the loaves would be delivered to the servant.

The baker used to say ‘Good morning’ to lady owner of the house. He would then put his basket on the bamboo. We kids used to gather around the scene. But we were given a mild scolding and asked to go away. The loaves of bread were given to the servants of the house.

But we would not give up. We would climb a bench or the parapet and peep into the basket, somehow. I can still recall the typical fragrance of those loaves. Loaves for the elders and the bangles for the children.

But we would keep on trying. We would climb on a bench or a parapet to somehow look into the basket. I can recall the special fragrance of those loaves. The loaves were for the elders and bread-bangles were for children.

Then we did not even care to brush our teeth or wash our mouths properly. And why should we? Who would take the trouble of plucking the mango-leaf for the toothbrush? And why was it necessary at all? The tiger never brushed his teeth. Hot tea could wash and clean up everything so nicely, after all!

We did not bother to brush our teeth or wash our mouth. We did not want to take the trouble of plucking mango leaves for brushing our teeth. We kids used to think why brushing of teeth is necessary. The tiger never brushes its teeth. Hot tea can wash and clean all our teeth very nicely.

Marriage gifts are meaningless without the sweet bread known as the bol, just as a party or a feast loses its charm without bread. Not enough can be said to show how important a baker can be for a village.

Marriage gifts were considered incomplete without sweet bread known as ‘bol’. [Meaning that marriage gifts always included sweet bread] Every party had bread as one of the food items. It is not possible to write everything to prove that baker was very important to a village.

The lady of the house must prepare sandwiches on the occasion of her daughter’s engagement. Cakes and bolinhas are a must for Christmas as well as other festivals. Thus, the presence of the baker’s furnace in the village is absolutely essential.

It was necessary to prepare sandwiches on the occasion of engagement of a daughter. Cakes and ‘bolinhas’ was necessary on Christmas and other festivals. Therefore it was very necessary to have a baker in every village.

The baker or bread-seller of those days had a peculiar dress known as the kabai. It was a singlepiece long frock reaching down to the knees. In our childhood we saw bakers wearing a shirt and trousers which were shorter than full-length ones and longer than half pants. Even today, anyone who wears a half pant which reaches just below the knees invites the comment that he is dressed like a pader!

The baker of those days used to wear a strange dress known as ‘kabai’. This dress was a frock which used to reach upto the knees. In our childhood days, bakers had started wearing a shirt and trousers. These trousers used to reach upto just below the knees. Even today if anyone wears such trousers, it is said that he is wearing dress of a pader.

The baker usually collected his bills at the end of the month. Monthly accounts used to be recorded on some wall in pencil. Baking was indeed a profitable profession in the old days. The baker and his family never starved.

The baker normally used to collect money at the end of the month. The record of monthly purchases used to be written by pencil on a wall. During those days baking was a profitable profession. The baker and his family were never hungry. [Meaning he could meet needs of his family]

He, his family and his servants always looked happy and prosperous. Their plump physique was an open testimony to this. Even today any person with a jackfruit-like physical appearance is easily compared to a baker.

The baker, his family and his servants all looked happy and rich. Their round body was proof of this. Even today, anybody having round fat body is called a baker.

Textual Questions

Q1. What are the elders in Goa nostalgic about?
Ans. The elders in Goa are nostalgic about the Portuguese who used to live there. They think of those good old days. They recall their famous loaves of bread. They recall the baker who used to make delicious loaves of bread for them.

Q. Is bread-making still popular in Goa? How do you know?
Ans. Q3. What is the baker called?
Ans. In Goa the baker is called Pader.

Q4. When would the baker come everyday? Why did the children run to meet him?
Ans. The baker would come twice a day. Once, when he set out in the morning on his selling round, and again, when he returned after emptying his basket. When the children hear the jhang jhang' sound of his specially made bamboo, they ran to meet him because they would get their favourite sweet bread.

Q5. What did the bakers wear: (i) in the Portuguese days? (ii) When the author was young?
Ans. In the Portuguese days the bakers used to wear a peculiar dress called ‘kabai’. It was a single-piece long frock reaching down to the knees. When the author was young he saw them wearing a shirt and trouser which were shorter than full-length ones and longer than half pants.

Q6. Who invites the comment—"he is dressed like a pader"? Why?
Ans. Anyone who wears a half pant which reaches just below the knees invites the comment that he is dressed like a Pader. It was the traditional dress of the bakers who were called Pader.

Q7. When did the baker collect his bills? Where were the monthly accounts of the baker recorded?
Ans. The baker usually collected his bill at the end of the month. The monthly accounts of the bakers were recorded on some wall. They were written in pencil.

Q8. What does a 'jackfruit-like appearance' mean?
Ans. A jackfruit is plump. Anybody who is fat and healthy is compared to a jackfruit. This term was used for the bakers who were fat, plump and healthy because of their prosperity.

Q.9. Is bread an important part of Goan life? How do you know this?
Ans. Yes, bread is an important part of Goan life. It is an integral part of their food. Their festivals, marriages and engagements are meaningless without sweet bread. Their marriage gifts are incomplete if they do not contain sweet bread. On the engagement ceremony of daughters, every mother prepares sandwiches. Moreover we can see the mixers, the moulders and those who bakes loaves in Goa even today. All this shows that bread-making is still very popular in Goa.

Summary

‘A Baker from Goa’ is a pen portrait of a traditional Goan village baker.
In this lesson, the author recalls the days when he was a little child and lived in Goa. The Portuguese had left Goa, but their famous loaves of bread were still liked. The sons were still running the business of their fathers. The arrival of the baker in the morning can still be heard. He comes with a basket on his head and with a jingling bamboo in his hand. The thud and jingling of his bamboo wake the children, and they go running to him. The baker comes with bread loaves for elders and bread bangles for children.
The author remembers how, as a child, he used to go running at the sound of the baker's arrival. He can still recall the typical fragrance of those bread bangles. He would be anxious to eat them with hot tea.
The baker is an indispensable part of the Goan life. No party, marriage or religious ceremony can be possible without his presence. In the old Portuguese days, the baker had a typical dress. It was called a kabai, a single piece frock reaching below the knees. In the days of the author's childhood, the baker wore a shirt and a half pant that reached below the knees. The bakers used to be very well-to-do, happy and prosperous people. He used to be famous for his chubby physique.

II Coorg

Line by line explanation Coorg is coffee country, famous for its rainforests and spices.

MIDWAY between Mysore and the coastal town of Mangalore sits a piece of heaven that must have drifted from the kingdom of god.

Mangalore is town situated near the shore of sea, hence it called a coastal town. Nearly at half the distance between Mysore and Mangalore, there is a piece of land that can be called heaven. It is so beautiful that probably it has come to earth from the kingdom of God.

This land of rolling hills is inhabited by a proud race of martial men, beautiful women and wild creatures.

This land has many hills of low heights. In this area beautiful women, several wild creature and men who are proud of their fighting abilities live. People of this area are brave.

Coorg, or Kodagu, the smallest district of Karnataka, is home to evergreen rainforests, spices and coffee plantations. Evergreen rainforests cover thirty per cent of this district.

Coorg or Kodagu is the smallest district of Karnataka. Rainforests which are always green, plantations of spices and coffee exist in this area. Thirty percent area of this district is covered by evergreen rainforests.

During the monsoons, it pours enough to keep many visitors away. The season of joy commences from September and continues till March. The weather is perfect, with some showers thrown in for good measure.

During monsoon season it rains heavily. So visitors do not come in this season. The season of happiness starts from September and continues up to March. Weather during this period is very good. Occasionally it rains in this period also.

The air breathes of invigorating coffee. Coffee estates and colonial bungalows stand tucked under tree canopies in prime corners.

The air has smell of fresh coffee. Big gardens of coffee exist in this area. Bungalows of British period under trees are situated at important location.

The fiercely independent people of Coorg are possibly of Greek or Arabic descent. As one story goes, a part of Alexander’s army moved south along the coast and settled here when return became impractical.

Extremely independent people of Coorg are probably originally from Greece or Arab. According to a story, some people from army of Alexander had come to the southern part of India along the sea. Then they settled in Coorg because going back to Greece was not practical.

These people married amongst the locals and their culture is apparent in the martial traditions, marriage and religious rites, which are distinct from the Hindu mainstream.

Later these people married among local residents of this area. Their culture can be seen in the way they fight, their rituals of marriage and religious methods. These are different from traditions of Hindus of this area.

The theory of Arab origin draws support from the long, black coat with an embroidered waist-belt worn by the Kodavus. Known as kuppia, it resembles the kuffia worn by the Arabs and the Kurds.

The theory that these people are originally from Arab is supported because they wear a black coat with a waist belt. This belt has embroidery. It is known as ‘kuppia’. This belt is similar to ‘kuffia’ worn by people of Arab and Kurd.

Coorgi homes have a tradition of hospitality, and they are more than willing to recount numerous tales of valour related to their sons and fathers.

People of Coorg have a tradition of being a good host. They are always eager to narrate several stories of bravery of their sons and fathers.

The Coorg Regiment is one of the most decorated in the Indian Army, and the first Chief of the Indian Army, General Cariappa, was a Coorgi. Even now, Kodavus are the only people in India permitted to carry firearms without a licence.

Soldiers of Coorg Regiment of Indian Army have won the highest numbers of medals for bravery. The first Chief of Indian Army, General Cariappa was from Coorg. Even nowadays, people from Coorg are the only people in India, who are allowed to carry firearms without a license.

The river, Kaveri, obtains its water from the hills and forests of Coorg. Mahaseer — a large freshwater fish — abound in these waters. Kingfishers dive for their catch, while squirrels and langurs drop partially eaten fruit for the mischief of enjoying the splash and the ripple effect in the clear water. Elephants enjoy being bathed and scrubbed in the river by their mahouts.

Water from hills and forests of Coorg come to Kaveri river. Mahaseer is a type of big freshwater fish. It is found in large quantity in Kaveri river. Kingfishers dive in the river to catch their prey. Squirrels and langurs throw half eaten fruits into the river. They enjoy the splash created by this activity. Mahouts bathe and rub skin of their elephants in the river.

The most laidback individuals become converts to the life of high-energy adventure with river rafting, canoeing, rappelling, rock climbing and mountain biking. Numerous walking trails in this region are a favourite with trekkers.

The most lazy individuals will start enjoying highly adventurous sports like river rafting, canoeing, rappelling, rock climbing and mountain biking. Several tracts or zones of walking of this area are favourites of walkers.

Birds, bees and butterflies are there to give you company. Macaques, Malabar squirrels, langurs and slender loris keep a watchful eye from the tree canopy. I do, however, prefer to step aside for wild elephants.

While walking, one would notice bees and butterflies. Several animals would be sitting on top of tress and watching you. I like to move to the side if a wild elephant comes on the walking trail.

The climb to the Brahmagiri hills brings you into a panoramic view of the entire misty landscape of Coorg.

From the top of Brahmagiri hills you can have a broad view of the total area of Coorg. The entire area would look covered with fog.

A walk across the rope bridge leads to the sixty-four-acre island of Nisargadhama. Running into Buddhist monks from India’s largest Tibetan settlement, at nearby Bylakuppe, is a bonus.

After crossing the rope bridge one reaches the island of Nisargadham. Area of this island is sixty four acres. India’s largest settlement of Tibetans is situated in nearby Bylakupp. Meeting Budhists monk there is an additional advantage.

The monks, in red, ochre and yellow robes, are amongst the many surprises that wait to be discovered by visitors searching for the heart and soul of India, right here in Coorg.

These monks wear, red, golden brown and yellow dresses. Visitor who come to Coorg in search of peace would be surprisingly happy to have a good discussion with monks.

Textual Questions

1. Where is Coorg situated? Why is it famous for?
Ans. Coorg is the smallest district of Karnataka. It is situated between Mysore and Mangalore. It is famous for its coffee gardens, spices, and rainforests.

2. What is the story about the Kodavu people's descent ?
Ans. There are two stories about the Coorgi descent. One story says that they are descended from the Greeks. Their martial traditions and their religious rites are like those of the Greeks. The other story says that they are descended from the Arabs. Their coat called kuppia resembles the kuffia worn by the Arabs.

Summary

Coorg (or Kodagu) lies midway between Mysore and Mangalore . It looks like a piece of heaven on this earth. Coorgis (or Kodavus) are known for their bravery, beauty and hospitality. General Cariappa, the first Chief of the Indian army, was a Coorg. In Coorg, it rains a lot during the monsoons. There are evergreen forests on about 30 per cent of the land. It is also the home of spices and coffee plantations. There is so much rain that the river Kaveri obtains its water from the hills and forests of Coorg. The river abounds in Mahaseer, which is a large freshwater fish.
It is very pleasant from September to March. The air breathes of refreshing coffee. Some people believe that the brave Coorgis are descended from the Greeks. Others believe that they are descended from the Arabs. The forests of Coorg have rich wildlife like langurs, squirrels, kingfishers, parrots and elephants.
Coorgis are very fond of adventure sports like rafting, canoeing, rappelling, rock climbing and mountain biking. The landscape of Brahmagiri hills present a panoramic view. Across the Brahmagiri hills, there is an island known as the Nisargadhama island. Here we can see the Buddhist monks clad in their typical robes. Coorg can be reached from Mangalore, Bangalore or Mysore by road , rail or air. Thus the fascinating beauty of Coorg refreshes one's heart and soul.

III Tea from Assam

Line by line explanation Pranjol, a youngster from Assam, is Rajvir’s classmate at school in Delhi. Pranjol’s father is the manager of a tea-garden in Upper Assam and Pranjol has invited Rajvir to visit his home during the summer vacation.

“CHAI-GARAM... garam-chai,” a vendor called out in a high-pitched voice. He came up to their window and asked,”Chai, sa’ab?” “Give us two cups,” Pranjol said.

The story begins with people travelling in a train. A loud voice from a tea seller request people to buy hot tea. He comes up to the window of the compartment and asks if anybody wants to buy tea. Prajol asked him to give two cups of tea.

They sipped the steaming hot liquid. Almost everyone in their compartment was drinking tea too. “Do you know that over eighty crore cups of tea are drunk every day throughout the world?” Rajvir said. “Whew!” exclaimed Pranjol. “Tea really is very popular.”

They started drinking the hot tea slowly. Steam was coming out of tea. Almost everybody in the compartment was drinking tea. Rajvir said that more than eight crore people drink tea every day in the world. Pranjol said that tea is certainly very popular.

The train pulled out of the station. Pranjol buried his nose in his detective book again. Rajvir too was an ardent fan of detective stories, but at the moment he was keener on looking at the beautiful scenery.

The train started moving and came out of the platform. Pranjol once again started reading his detective novel. Rajvir was also passionate about reading detective stories. But at present he was more interested in looking at the beautiful scenery through window of the train.

It was green, green everywhere. Rajvir had never seen so much greenery before. Then the soft green paddy fields gave way to tea bushes.

He saw through the window of the train that it was green everywhere. Rajvir had never seen so much of greenery before. Earlier there were fields of rice outside the train. The train moved ahead. Now through the window he saw bushes of tea.

It was a magnificent view. Against the backdrop of densely wooded hills a sea of tea bushes stretched as far as the eye could see.

It was an extremely beautiful view. In the front there were tea bushes as far as one could see. Behind these bushes one could see hills. Trees on hills were very close to each other, thus looked dense.

Dwarfing the tiny tea plants were tall sturdy shade-trees and amidst the orderly rows of bushes busily moved doll-like figures.

In the field there were tall and strong trees also. The tea bushes looked very small in comparison to these trees. Among the nicely arranged rows of tea bushes some people were moving. Those people looked like dolls.

In the distance was an ugly building with smoke billowing out of tall chimneys. “Hey, a tea garden!” Rajvir cried excitedly. Pranjol, who had been born and brought up on a plantation, didn’t share Rajvir’s excitement.

Far away an ugly building could be seen. Smoke was coming out of tall chimneys. Rajvir shouted in excitement that it was a tea garden. Pranjol has been seeing tea gardens since his childhood. Therefore he was not exited to look at tea gardens.

“Oh, this is tea country now,” he said. “Assam has the largest concentration of plantations in the world. You will see enough gardens to last you a lifetime!”

Rajvir exclaimed that the whole of the area was a tree garden. Assam has most number of tea gardens in the world. There are so many tea gardens in Assam that one cannot see all of these even in his entire lifetime.

“I have been reading as much as I could about tea,” Rajvir said. “No one really knows who discovered tea but there are many legends.” “What legends?”

Rajvir said that he had been reading about tea as much as possible. No one knows who discovered tea but there are many stories about it. Prajol asked what these stories were.

“Well, there’s the one about the Chinese emperor who always boiled water before drinking it. One day a few leaves of the twigs burning under the pot fell into the water giving it a delicious flavour. It is said they were tea leaves.”

Once there was a king in China. He always used to drink boiled water. One day a few leaves of a small branch fell into the boiling water. The twig was being used a firewood to boil water. Because of those leaves taste of water became very tasty. It is said that those were tea leaves.

“Tell me another!” scoffed Pranjol. “We have an Indian legend too. Bodhidharma, an ancient Buddhist ascetic, cut off his eyelids because he felt sleepy during meditations.

Teasingly Pranjol asked to tell another story. Rajvir said there is another story from India also. Bodhidharma was an ancient Buddhist monk. He felt sleepy while doing his prayers. So he cut his eyelids and threw these on the ground.

Ten tea plants grew out of the eyelids. The leaves of these plants when put in hot water and drunk banished sleep.

From these eyelids ten tea plants grew. When leaves of these plants were put in hot water and that water was drunk, sleep did not come to the person.

“Tea was first drunk in China,” Rajvir added, “as far back as 2700 B.C.! In fact words such as tea, ‘chai’ and ‘chini’ are from Chinese. Tea came to Europe only in the sixteenth century and was drunk more as medicine than as beverage.”

Rajvir further said that tea was first consumed in China long ago in 2700 BC. Actually words like ‘tea’, ‘chai’ and ‘chini’ are from Chinese language. Tea came to Europe in 16th century. Initially tea was consumed as medicine not as a refreshment drink.

The train clattered into Mariani junction. The boys collected their luggage and pushed their way to the crowded platform. Pranjol’s parents were waiting for them.

With lot of sound the train reached Mariani junction. The two boys picked their luggage and got down to the platform. The platform was crowded. Parents of Pranjol were waiting at the platform for them.

Soon they were driving towards Dhekiabari, the tea-garden managed by Pranjol’s father . An hour later the car veered sharply off the main road. They crossed a cattle-bridge and entered Dhekiabari Tea Estate.

Soon they were travelling in a car to Dhekiabari. Father of Pranjol was manager of this tea garden. After one hour the car took a sharp turn from the main road. They crossed a cattle- bridge and entered the area of Dhekiabari Tea Estate.

On both sides of the gravel-road were acre upon acre of tea bushes, all neatly pruned to the same height. Groups of tea-pluckers, with bamboo baskets on their backs, wearing plastic aprons, were plucking the newly sprouted leaves.

The road was made of small stones. On both sides of road, there were very large areas of tea garden. Tea bushes were nicely cut to the same height. There were many groups of people who were pulling and picking tea leaves from bushes. They had a basket made of bamboo on their back. They were wearing plastic apron. They were picking the newly grown tea leaves.

Pranjol’s father slowed down to allow a tractor, pulling a trailer-load of tea leaves, to pass. “This is the second-flush or sprouting period, isn’t it, Mr Barua?” Rajvir asked. “It lasts from May to July and yields the best tea.”

Father of Pranjol slowed his vehicle to allow a tractor to cross their vehicle. The tractor was pulling a trolley which was full of tea leaves. Mr. Barua is father of Pranjol. Rajvir asked Mr. Barua if it was the second season of the year for tea leaves to grow. This season starts in May and ends in July. During this period best tea leaves grow on tea bushes.

“You seem to have done your homework before coming,” Pranjol’s father said in surprise. “Yes, Mr Barua,” Rajvir admitted. “But I hope to learn much more while I’m here.”

Pranjol’s father was surprised to hear these details from Rajvir. He said to Rajavir that it looked Rajvir had studied about tea gardens before coming there. Rajvir agreed and said that he hoped to learn more while he was at the tea garden.

Summary

‘Tea from Assam' is an interesting and informative lesson about tea plantation, its history and its significance. The writer has tried to make it interesting by using a dialogue method.
Two young boys Pranjol and Rajvir are going to Assam. Rajvir is excited as he passes through tea gardens and wants to share his knowledge with Pranjol. They talk about various Indian and Chinese legends behind tea. Rajvir tells Pranjol a very interesting story of a Chinese emperor who discovered tea by chance. He also tells Pranjol another story which is very strange and illogical. This story tells us about the growing up of tea leaves out of the eyelids of a monk. Thus, through these interesting dialogues, the writer has attempted to develop a sense of curiosity among the young readers.