THE MANDÓ

The mandó is, in essence, the love song of the Goans. When young Goan men reach adolescence and awaken to the tender emotions of love, their imagination is roused and they become very poetic. A young man in love compares his beloved to the flowers that brighten the fields, to the sun and the moon, to the stars that sparkle in the sky, to the supernatural beings that people the celestial court.

"Suriá nequetranchéa porim porzoletá

Anjeá mujeá calzacheá

Bem feitu munun mogá

Adorar queló tucá."

(Port.: "Como o Sol e as estrelas, tu brilhas,

Anjo do meu coração,

Eu te adoro, querida,

Porque és uma perfeição."; or:

"Like the sun and the stars, you shine,

Angel of my heart,

I adore you, my love,

Because you are perfect in every way.").

The same tender feeling is echoed in the heart of the loved one:

"Anju tum, arcanju

Querubim adorado,

Eá mujéa quesachê pantieru

Jurar zalim Devá mucaru."

(Port.: "Anjo, arcanjo,

Querubim adorado,

Sobre esta trança do meu cabelo

Jurei por Deus ser tua."; or:

"Angel, archangel,

Adored cherub,

Upon this braid in my hair

I swore to God that I would be yours.").

The sweet idyll then begins, and ardent entreaties for love are heard from both sides:

"Ió rê mogá

Choi ré maca

Mogaché dollé

Lai rê macá."

(Port.: "Vem, meu amor,

Olha para mim,

Lança em mim

Olhos de Ternura."; or:

"Come, my love,

Look at me,

Turn your tender eyes to me.

"Ió, ió, gopantuléa anjeá

Ecuch pun beiju di re maca."

(Port.: "Vem para os meus braços,

Dá-me pelo menos um beijo!"; or:

"Come into my arms,

At least give me a kiss!").

And the two young people, transported by their love and enjoying perfect happiness, believe they have found heaven on earth. United by the bonds of matrimony, they surrender to happiness, praying for God's blessing and making plans for eternal bliss:

"Sontôs bogtá rê jivaco

Uzvadd pettlá eá garaco

Dadôs-caen bogunchaco

Magnem amim coru ea Devaco."

(Port.: "Vivo num verdadeiro enlevo,

Esta casa parece cheia de luz,

Vamos rogar a Deus

Que possamos viver sempre assim."; or:

"I feel such joy,

This house seems full of light,

Let us pray to God

That we may always live this way.").

"Sacramenta ekvotachó

Zalear puró uzvaddachó

Sangat corun ecá-mecachó

Sodanc amim feliz cadeá disso."

(Port.: "Oxalá este sacramento de amor

Possa trazer luz ao nosso lar

E, juntos, possamos viver,

Sempre felizes, um junto do outro."; or:

"May this sacrament of love

Bring light to our home

And may we always be happy

And always be together.").

But the path of love is not always straight and smooth, without obstacles. Sometimes the despotic wishes of the parents come between the two loving hearts, like an impenetrable barrier; and obstacles that are more or less insurmountable present themselves, such as differences in caste or in social status, or the dowry requirements. Quite often, the young lovers must contend with the malevolent criticism of family members or friends, the gossip of the neighbours, or an intriguer with a viperous tongue. Reversals of fortune are not uncommon, and in some cases one of the lovers is betrayed, the young couple is cruelly forced to separate, or death brings on a tragic ending:

"Zaitó tempu raulim rê aum

Tujeá laguim cazar zatolim munum

Potin tuji zauncheaco rê sum

Nirmunc maca nam Deu-anum."

(Port.: "Por longo tempo esperei, querido,

Que um dia casaria contigo.

Mas Deus não tinha destinado

Que tu fosses meu marido."; or:

"My darling, for a long time I hoped

That one day I would marry you.

But it was not God's will.

You were not destined to be my husband.").

"Mogo anvem corun tuzó

Dusman zaló rê ubó,

Sonvsar coroch cortubancho."

(Port.: "Eu amei-te, mas te amar,

Surgiu o diabo entre nós...

Oh! Este mundo é mesmo de diabruras!"; or:

"I loved you for love's sake,

But the devil rose up between us...

Oh! This world can be so cruel!").

"Adeus corchó vellu pauló

Ai! Mojem calliz fafsotá

Despedir corchea vellaru

Ó sonvsar macá só distá."

(Port.: "Chegou o momento de te dizer adeus.

Oh! O meu coração sangra de dor

Nesta hora amarga da despedida,

Eu antes quereria morrer!"; or:

"The time has come for us to say goodbye.

Oh, how my heart breaks!

Such a bitter moment, we must part,

But I would rather die!").

"Cazarachem utor macá diun,

Calliz gotlolem bandun

Derrepent dusreachem aicun

Maca diloi gó soddun."

Dancing the mandó.

(Port.: "Tinhas prometido casar comigo.

Os nossos corações estavam presos um ao outro...

De súbito abandonaste-me

Dando ouvidos a outrem..."; or:

"You had promised to marry me.

Our hearts were bound together...

But suddenly you abandoned me

Letting others influence you...").

Someone once called the mandó the biography of the Goan heart. It is, in fact, the bittersweet story of its joy and sorrow, of the glory and martyrdom of love. But the mandó is more than that; it is also the lively and palpitating chronicle of our agitated social and political life. Some of the most beautiful mandós do not celebrate the tender outpouring of emotion, the ecstasy or the agony of two hearts in love, but rather some of the country's political highlights: the excitement of election campaigns, the parliamentary triumphs of our politicians, the revolts of the proud Ranes, Custobá's exploits and acts of generosity, the intemperance and excesses of those in power, the pain of our servitude. And through the plaintive melody of the mandó or the animated rhythm of the dulpodas flow clouds of blood, the din of battle and the horror of war:

"Setembrachea ecvissaveru

Camarachem foddlem daru

Painchim soldadu addle Moddgovan

Ponge corun taru."

(Port.: "Em 21 de Setembro

Partiram a porta da Câmara,

Touxeram quinhentos soldados a Margão

Por um telegrama a Pangim."; or:

"On September 21

The door of city hall was broken down

A telegram was sent to Pangim

And five hundred soldiers were brought to Margão.").

"Misso cabar zatorich, rê Poncianu,

Rogtacheo zaliô zori

Padre Lucas almentu mari

Otmen salvar cori."

(Port.: "Finda a missa, Ó Ponciano,

Correram rios de sangue,

O Padre Lucas, aspergindo água benta

Salvava almas."; or:

"Once the mass ended, Ponciano,

Rivers of blood flowed,

Father Lucas, sprinkling holy water, Saved souls.").

"Farar faru

Zatai ranantu

Ranne mattai pacleancu

Pacle mattai ranneancu."

(Port.: "Tiros sobre tiros

Se ouvem nos bosque.

Ranes matam Europeus,

Europeus matam Ranes."; or:

"Shots and more shots

Are heard in the woods.

Ranes kill Europeans,

Europeans kill Ranes.").

The mandó is also a satire on customs－pungent satire that spares no one, be they great, rich or poor. The vicar, the curate, the overly religious women, the head of the parish and the administrator, not to mention the governor himself, are as a rule the objects of this type of popular satire. But the preferred theme of this satire is the clandestine relationships between the son of the battcar (landowner) and the daughter of the mundoar (colonist):

"－Teá fanteá parari,

Chedva tum khuim gó guelolém

－Potream guelolim guê mãe,

Potream guelolim."

(Port.: "－ Aonde tinhas ido, ó moça,

Por aquela madrugada?

－Dir-te-ei um dia, mãe,

Dir-te-ei tudo um dia."; or:

"－Where had you gone, young lady,

At the break of dawn?

－One day, I will let you konw, mother,

One day, I will let you know everything.").

"－Teá batcaralo choló,

Tucai quitem gó muntaló

－Rupiá ditaló guê mãe,

Capdac muntaló,

－Tem tambdem capod,

Chedva tuca khuim gó tem meulem,

－Maguir coutolem guê mãe,

Maguir coutolem."

(Port.: "－ Que te dizia o filho

Do proprietário, ó moça?

－Dava-me dunheiro, mãe,

Dizia que era para um vestido.

－Onde encontraste aquele pano vermelho

Ó rapariga?

－Virás a saber um dia, mãe,

Virás a saber um dia."; or:

"－What was the owner's son

telling you, young lady?

－He gave me money, mother,

And told me to buy myself a dress.

－Where did you find that red fabric,

Girl?

－One day, you will know, mother,

One day, you will know everything."). □

Translated from the Portuguese by: Paula Sousa

*Goan doctor, journalist and researcher.