The Cross at the Quiterio's

No Catholic household in Goa is complete without a cross. You will find crosses engraved on homes or a structure erected in front of houses. Each one is different in design yet built for one purpose – protect the family that resides there.

My home has a cross engraved on the compound wall. But the cross that binds us all as a family is the one that stands in my Grandma’s compound. This is the cross is the protector of the entire Quiterio clan. Prayers to pass in exams, fulfillment of dreams and protection as we venture far and wide in the world have all been offered here and it still does.

The Cross at the Quiterio's

I remember times when as little kids my cousin and I used to help my Grandma scrape the old paint off the cross and volunteer to paint it in preparation for the cross feast. There were also times when all of us cousins used to wait closest to the cross hoping to catch the wax that dripped forth, each one wanting to building a bigger wax ball than the other. As the centre of the household it also came to be the favoured place to click family pictures.

My brother & cousin as kids in front of the cross

Though much as has changed now – we are all adults, grandma’s house is surrounded by a concrete wall – the cross still remains the same, in the spot it was erected on.

In and Around Parra

The original blog post can be found on The Lovell Dsouza Crapsite. It has been republished with due permissions. The reason I felt the need to republish this is because it captures the true essence of our homeplace - Goa. 

So here's my brother Lovell documenting "Back Home" 

So I’m back home, in good ‘ol Goa. Sitting at the same table my Sis and I grew up eating at. The same table at which I studied for myriad exams that I flunked :P

The old table. The old hall. The massive windows. The damp roof tiles. The generations of relatives sealed in frames, hanging from the walls looking down upon me and thinking “Shame on him. Didn’t make the family name proud.” Hey wait a min, I did. May be they took that back.

Meet Tommy [the female family feline]. Some say she’s 25+ years old. I’ll keep her at 23, coz from photographic evidence she existed when my sis was a kid, before I was born. I stick my foot out for the usual feline meets master greeting. She rubs her head against my foot. I’m still king of the pride. Tommy acknowledges that. Until my sis drops by and steals me off my throne. How can that kitty leave me and run to my sis!!! Duh!! Whatever pussy cat. Big deal!!

The black t-shirts have turned into makeshift doormats. I’m wondering how could my mom degrade the metal collection!! Aahh.. but I guess thats ok. Even the great Slayer t-shirt was not spared. That one has been torn into bits. The Nirvana collection has survived the onslaught. They lie folded in the cupboard.

The metal cassette collection has survived. The pirated CD’s survived too. The rains kick in. I listen to Alice In Chains for a change. Grunge kicks in. Finding a signal for Airtel in the house is a challenge in itself. The signal boosting ironing board does not help anymore. Last resort is defined by leaving the phone at the window risking it getting robbed.

I walk out. I see fields. I smell fresh air. I see birds. Coconut trees transform the simple village road into an aisle. Feels like a red carpet has been laid out for me. Well all over the place tell me I never have to worry bout taps running dry. Home it is. It’s not necessarily the beaches that everyone thinks about when you mention Goa.

I head out to the Baga creek. I spot the Cross where Ryan [Babushin] and I used to hang out discussing crap. I recognize the spot where Donn, Russell [Yoyo] and I used to come fishing and manage only to catch crabs. The total number of crabs caught till date tallies to 1. I pass by the ground where our U-19 team used to train. The same ground where I learned to dive and catch a football in mid air. The same ground where I once left a lousy goal and our team lost.

I meet my good old friend Srijay aka Byclops aka Peekachooooo. We head of to Lan Lords. We thought the place was shut down. We find it open. Once owned by the fearsome Homo Sapien Maleous clan, now left to rot with some school boys. The gaming place is dying a slow death. Never-the-less we frag against some bots. Get ripped initially. We rip them back after a while. Srij still got the superfast killer reflexes. I still kick bot with moi mag. The clan needs a reunion.

Srij and I drop by Vrundavan. The evening restaurant where a lot of things were always discussed. Most visited by Lesley and me. Often accompanied by Evelyn, Srijay, Suneet and Prashanti. We attack the regular. Chillies, bhel, shev puri, tea and coffee are consumed. We call Les just to let him know we are re-living the moment and he is missing out on a lot of stuff, only to get a barrage of abuses in return. Good ‘ol days. Les, the abuser. Abuses everyone and everything.

We head back home. I’m home…