Truthful living
There is no doubt that God is different from man in His omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence, yet He created man in His image and likeness. That is, we are like God but not God. We are on track as long as we acknowledge that truth; the moment we forget it, we stray from the Creator and fall into a deep pit of our own creation.
God has given us His law in the form of commandments, which may be difficult but are possible to fulfil. The First Reading (Sir 15: 15-20) states: “If thou wilt keep the commandments and perform acceptable fidelity for ever, they shall preserve thee.” In His infinite goodness, He has created water and fire, good and evil, life and death, and we must bear responsibility for the same while we have the freedom of choice.
Although the yoke is easy and the burden is light, we humans rebel against God’s law. We have a natural propensity to sin, but then, how long can we put up a ‘fight’? Is it not better to have a conciliatory attitude, an attitude of humility and surrender instead? “The eyes of the Lord are towards them that fear him, and he knoweth all the work of man.”
It is essential to have faith and trust in the Lord if we wish to be happy. “Blessed are they who follow the law of the Lord!” says the opening refrain of Psalm 119. In the world’s thinking, following God’s law and not our own is a sign of weakness. How faulty an approach to our problems! The bulk of these come from pride, greed, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth, all of which cause a host of immoral behaviours.
Sadly, the flesh is attracted to what sin promises. We fail to see that it comes from a master liar, the devil. Therefore, let our prayer be: “Give me understanding, and I will search thy law; and I will keep it with my whole heart.” (Ps 119: 34) Needless to say, the Christian outlook will be different from that of the secular world that surrounds us, for, as the truly wise St Paul says in the Second Reading (1 Cor 2: 6-10), “We speak a wisdom to those who are mature, not a wisdom of this age, nor of the rulers of this age who are passing away. Rather, we speak God's wisdom, mysterious, hidden, which God predetermined before the ages for our glory, and which none of the rulers of this age knew.”
Knowledge of the Mystery of Christ is true wisdom. Alas, the world has long misjudged this, or else they “would not have crucified the Lord of glory.” It is a matter of great consolation that God has prepared something special for those who love and adore Him. It takes faith—total trust in God—to determine it. Of course, those who are faithful enjoy that moral certainty; the unseen God reveals Himself to them through the Spirit, “for the Spirit scrutinizes everything, even the depths of God.”
The beauty of it all: the humbler and more childlike we are, the more is revealed to us. “Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth; you have revealed to little ones the mysteries of the kingdom.” The first ones of this world will be the last in the kingdom. The rich and powerful, the bold and beautiful will hide their faces in shame. This truth alone could take away our fret.
In the Gospel (Mt 5: 17-37), which is a continuation of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus highlights self-control, lifelong marital relationships, and honest communication: “Whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do so will be called least in the kingdom of heaven.” In other words, we must not only keep the commandments ourselves but also enjoin upon others to do so.
Jesus makes it clear that He came not to abolish the old law but to perfect and fulfil it. He emphasizes loving obedience over mere ritualism or legalism. Although Jesus was referring to the Jewish law and its enforcers, we could apply the same to the natural law, which we cannot pretend to be ignorant of, for it is set like a seal on our hearts. It is no use to rationalise or interpret the law according to our whims and fancies, for God knows our hearts’ innermost recesses.
We must stop looking at God’s law as oppressive. When we accept it with understanding and love, it is healing. Given that we tend to go about our daily tasks wearing a mask, it was time we shed the mask, for God can see through it all. The more truthful our living is, the better.
Banner: https://ln.run/nfw6Y
Being the light and salt
Today’s readings challenge us to live as authentic Christians in a world increasingly enveloped by the darkness of sin. They invite us to serve with genuine love and tangible action, not mere ritual or empty words.
The First Reading (Is 58: 7-10) says: “Deal thy bread to the hungry, and bring the needy and the harbourless into thy house: when thou shalt see one naked, cover him, and despise not thy own flesh.” We are reminded of Mt 25: 40: “as long as you did it to one of these to the least of My brethren, you did it to Me.”
Isaiah reminds us that pouring out our soul to the afflicted helps open the floodgates of grace. “Then shall thy light break forth as the morning, and thy health shall speedily arise, and thy justice shall go before thy face, and the glory of the Lord shall gather thee up.”
The Gospel text (Mt 5: 13-16) based on the Sermon on the Mount, in continuation of the Beatitudes last Sunday, exhorts us to be the light and the salt of the world! “Let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” The good works are not for our own sake or for our consolation; they are to glorify our Heavenly Father.
Jesus also challenges us to be like a city seated on a mountain; it cannot be hidden. This means that we should not only readily come under God’s scanner but also be a useful model to those around us, like the candlestick that provides light to all that are in the house. Not easy, but not impossible either with God’s grace.
The good thing about God’s commands is that they are not business-like targets that weigh us down. God does not measure us by the world’s standards of ‘success’, but by the efforts we put in to be good and do good. As Psalm 112: 4 says, “The just man is a light in darkness to the upright.” A little word of encouragement, a pat on the back, a gentle smile can work wonders.
Humanly speaking, we may hesitate, waver, and even shudder. However, we could take a leaf from the Second Reading (1 Cor 2: 1-5) where St Paul reminds his people that he came to them “not in loftiness of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of Christ…. My speech and preaching were not in the persuasive words of human wisdom but in showing the Spirit and power.”
The Apostle to the Gentiles went to Corinth “in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling.” The secret of his mission lay in that he left everything to God: he claimed to know and speak nothing except of the incomparable news of Jesus Christ crucified.
To sum up, being the light and salt of the world means exerting a transformative influence on the world around us. We are called to illumine the world with the Gospel values and reflect the light of Jesus. Like salt that acts as a preservative and flavours food, we are called to add meaning to life and be a moral preservative in a decadent world.
The Beatitudes in a mad world
The Beatitudes are a recipe for happiness in this world and salvation in the next, yet we are often at odds with them. That is because happiness has gradually assumed a newfangled meaning and the idea of salvation has lost its meaning as our world is increasingly controlled by dark forces.
Centuries before Christ, Zephaniah saw through what was happening. He prophesied in the days of king Josiah of Judah (640–609 BCE), who wished to end the profanation of holy places that began in the reign of his father and grandfather, Amon and Manasseh. These two kings promoted the worship of the deities Baal and Astarte and left Jerusalem open to alien culture and morals.
Like Jeremiah, Zephaniah was one of Josiah’s most zealous and trusted advisers. He spoke against religious and moral corruption and predicted Judah’s destruction for the leaders’ wrongdoings and the rampant idolatry and religious syncretism.
Zephaniah is the ninth in the literary order of the Twelve Minor Prophets. His Book is divided into three sections: Judgement on Judah; Judgement on the Nations and Jerusalem; Hope for the Nations and Jerusalem.
Today’s First Reading (Zeph 2: 3; 3: 12-13) is taken from the second and third sections. It begins with a call to conversion and hope, to which only the “humble of the land, who do His commands” will respond; the rich and the powerful will be too full of themselves.
The third section is possibly the realization of the aforementioned ideal. Here, we see the remnant (“those who are left in Israel”) as first prophesied by Isaiah. That image refers to the fact that there is always a faithful and holy remnant in the midst of God’s plan.
How perfectly that dovetails into what Our Lord says in the Beatitudes that comprise today’s Gospel (Mt 5: 1-12). Jesus extols the poor in spirit; those who mourn; the meek; those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; the merciful; the pure in heart; the peacemakers; those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake; and those who are reviled and persecuted for His sake. These are classes of “Blessed” people, meaning those in a better position to receive the kingdom of God.
The poor in spirit are those who, amidst material and spiritual trials, put their trust in God; the mourning ones are those who hope in God alone who can wipe away their tears; the meek are an outward sign of the poor in spirit; the pure in heart are those whose thoughts, actions, and statements are beyond reproach; the peacemakers are reflected with God’s love; and finally, the reviled and persecuted refers to those who are made to suffer for their faithfulness to God in all things.
St Matthew reports the Beatitudes in the ‘Sermon on the Mount’ as the inaugural discourse of the Kingdom’s new law. While traditionally viewed as a single, verbatim speech delivered on a hillside, some scholars believe that St Matthew arranged various sayings spoken by Jesus at different times into a structured, thematic, and symbolic discourse. St Luke (6: 17-49) offers a similar, yet distinct, account of Jesus's teachings, in the ‘Sermon on the Plain’. Both likely stem from the same core tradition and are masterpieces of a new, radical ethic that Jesus proposed.
St Paul stresses the same idea of lowliness in the Second Reading (Cor 1: 26-31). This was indeed the social condition of the Corinthians who had embraced Christianity. He points to the fact that God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong, what is low and despised, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are. God is our wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption.
It is likely that some will fail to relate to that. Doesn’t talking about poverty, lowliness, meekness, and weakness sound self-defeating or even make one feel vulnerable? The world seems to be hardwired to believe in power and wealth, achievement, success, and being on top of things.
Yet, Jesus turns vulnerability on its head. He teaches us that when vulnerability reflects our dependence on God, it becomes a source of grace. Psychologists also now consider that vulnerability allows for the development of authentic relationships.
Further, even if our aspirations are not evil, we must guard against any lapse from grace. For example, wealth should not lead to idolatry of money, and material power should not hinder spiritual life. If we are not careful, even the pursuit of spiritual perfection could slip into conceit. Temptations abound, and we fall.
Hence, the bottom line is that our faith and trust in God, rather than in ourselves or in fellow human beings, saves us. That is when the Beatitudes begin to make sense and have a calming effect in our mad, mad world.
Banner: https://url-shortener.me/A8OL
Dalgado and the Konkani-Marathi Controversy - 2
Mgr. Dalgado’s entry into the Konkani-Marathi controversy was a watershed moment in the history of Konkani Studies. Contemporaneous Portuguese-language newspapers in Goa and bilingual newspapers in Bombay commented on that priest’s efforts in the field.[1] After him, Jules Bloch in his La formation de la lingue marathe[2] showed how distinct Marathi was from Konkani. S. M. Katre paralleled Bloch’s book by writing The Formation of Konkani[3] and, together with V. P. Chavan, helped further Konkani’s position as a separate language.
Meanwhile, Vaman Raghunath Sinai Varde Valaulikar (1877-1946), who used the pen name Shenoi Goembab, was an important Konkani scholar of the first half of the 20th century. He began by writing in Marathi. However, after a writer from Bombay remarked that his Marathi was “artificially flavoured”, because “Marathi is not your spoken language,”[4] Valaulikar switched to Konkani, and initially wrote in the Roman script. Konkani in the Devanagari script was not worth the name in Bombay, and much less in Goa.
While Valaulikar’s crusading voice primarily addressed the upper-class Hindu community in Bombay, it complemented Dalgado’s work of demonstrating Konkani’s individuality to a larger audience. His Konknnichi Vyakornni Bandavoll[5] provided a detailed grammatical analysis through which Konkani emerged supreme over Marathi.[6] Valaulikar, who knew Portuguese, must have read Dalgado’s 1917 rejoinder. Perhaps the two never met or exchanged correspondence, but they shared a vision for their mother tongue, in particular, the choice of script: Devanagari.
Dalgado died in Lisbon in 1922, after decades dedicated to research in the field of Konkani and culture. His academic legacy was maintained by his pupil Mariano Saldanha, who replaced him as a professor of Sanskrit at the University of Lisbon in 1929, taught Konkani at Escola Superior Colonial’s Institute of African and Oriental Languages and conducted extensive research on Konkani in Goa and Europe.
In 1952, Saldanha was in Bombay as the president of the Fifth All-India Konkani Porixod. Unlike Dalgado, his guru, he was a votary of the Roman script, and his address to the Conference was printed in the said script. Shenoi Goembab had died six years earlier, in 1946, after a lifetime of activism in favour of Konkani.
By the 1950s, the demand for linguistic states in India had gained significant momentum leading to the creation of the Telugu-speaking Andhra out of the State of Madras. Much earlier, the Indian National Congress (INC), then the country’s foremost political party, had organized its provincial committees along linguistic zones, signalling an early form of the concept. Valaulikar’s vision of Konkani in the Devanagari script dovetailed into that concept, while, in Lisbon, Saldanha was officially working on the possible introduction of Konkani in the Roman script for primary schools in Portuguese Goa. Obviously, that plan did not materialise in post-1961 Goa under Indian rule.
Konkani post-1961
It was an entirely new ballgame after Goa joined the Indian Union. The neighbouring state of Maharashtra, deeming Konkani a dialect of Marathi, soon laid claim to Goa. Goans who formed the Maharashtrawadi Gomantak Party (MGP) were fifth columnists who aided the designs of that expansionist state. The United Goans Party (UGP) stood opposite, favouring administrative autonomy in the form of a Union Territory and eventual Statehood for Goa.
In the 1960s, the Goan elite, which was hitherto divided between Portuguese and Marathi suddenly realised that only Konkani could help preserve the Goan identity. It was a David and Goliath situation, in which Konkani won, because there could be no arguments against facts: the language was on the people’s lips and nobody could take that away. Its literature was perhaps not on par with the best in the country, but Dalgado and Valaulikar had widened and strengthened its base.
Valaulikar is rightly regarded as the ‘Father of Modern Konkani Literature’; Dalgado ought to be titled as the Grand Father (pun intended) of Modern Konkani because of his fundamental research contribution to the development of the language. Eventually, their impact was felt during the Opinion Poll (1967), which was an unprecedented referendum held in Goa to ascertain the people’s wishes vis-à-vis Maharashtra’s territorial claim. The contribution of the two stalwarts came into sharp focus again when Sahitya Akademi recognised Konkani as a literary language (1975), with no mention of the script.
The stage was now set for Konkani to become the official language of the soon-to-be 25th State of the Indian Union. Curiously, even at this late hour, there was a tussle between Konkani and Marathi in Goa. Finally, the Goa, Daman and Diu Official Language Act, 1987,[7] passed in the Goa Legislative Assembly on 2 May 1987 granted Konkani official status.
Nonetheless, by a twist of fate, the official language was defined as “Konkani language in Devanagari script” with the use of Marathi for all or any official purposes. While Konkani speakers as a whole heaved a sigh of relief on seeing the language of the land being accorded official status, the pinch of that definition slowly but surely made itself felt. On the one hand, supporters of Marathi were placated, and on the other, supporters of Konkani written in the Roman script were angered. Olivinho Gomes dubs it a “defective definition”, stating that “it was exactly like saying that “woman” means a female clad in a saree, leading to the fallacious conclusion that females not wearing such attire were not women at all.”[8]
Goa gained statehood less than four months later, on 30 May 1987; and on 31 August 1992, Konkani was included in the Eighth Schedule of the Indian Constitution. The language had clearly come into a privileged position, as never before. It would seem that a time to consolidate had arrived, but, alas, the Act had sowed seeds of disunity. The Konkani community that uses the Roman script and is largely Catholic felt discriminated against. This section of the people and the Roman script, both of which had all the while been a bulwark of Konkani, suddenly felt marginalised. From state employment and the structure of the literary advisory committee of the local Kala Academy right to the attribution of national awards by the Sahitya Akademi, Konkani became synonymous with the Devanagari script alone, whereas the Roman script almost became a scripta non grata.
The Catholic Church of Goa, in collaboration with seven Konkani-speaking dioceses (Bombay, Poona, Karwar, Belgaum, Sindhudurg, Mangalore, and Chikmagalur), which constitute the Konkani province of the Indian Church hierarchy, implemented the use of Konkani in its jurisdiction (liturgy; translation of the Bible and documents; hymnals; and medium of instruction in the diocesan primary schools, etc.). But alas, the Church in Goa failed to actively support the inclusion of the Roman script in the Language Act.[9]
Meanwhile, the Dalgado Konkani Akademi (DKA), established in 1989, helped keep the flame of the Roman script alive. It took some time for its activities to gain momentum, given the lack of funds. In the financial year 2007-08, state funds were made available and the official body, Goa Konkani Akademi, was directed to provide for the publication of books written in the Roman script. DKA, in addition to providing a forum for writers, poets, and dramatists, gave birth to the Tiatr Academy of Goa.[10] Even though naming the Academy after an advocate of the Devanagari script seemed incongruous, all in all it helped keep the stalwart’s memory alive.
Case for the Roman script
Whereas a script ought to be a facilitator, it has become a bone of contention. In the Konkani world, the multi-script situation, which could well be considered a plus point, has become an Achilles heel. The sooner this is resolved, the better, to ensure the interests of all the user communities, whose happiness and wellbeing is bound to popularise the language. The more the scripts, the better.
In 2013, the Sahitya Akademi organised a conference on the theme “One Language, Many Scripts”. There were representatives from several Indian languages, some of them still using multiple scripts. They appreciated the Akademi’s initiative to have an open dialogue on the issue. Even though the official report of the Conference concludes that all the speakers “admitted that a language will not prosper with multiple scripts”, it is undeniable that there were those who opined that the occurrence of many scripts is a sign of vibrancy that must be celebrated. “There was a general consensus that Sahitya Akademi should maintain status quo on this issue at present… The scholars appreciated and welcomed this significant step taken by Sahitya Akademi to open a dialogue on this sensitive issue.”[11]
So, the matter is by no means settled. This is therefore a time to reflect on whether the shared legacy of Dalgado and Shenoi Goembab has been put to creative use. It would be interesting to consider what their response would be in the context of our globalised world. How would they look at demands for the State recognition of the Roman script in today’s multilingual and multicultural world? Would they not consider it an opportunity to woo back Konkani speakers at home and in the diaspora and to win new speakers from across the world? Would they not appreciate the possibility of Konkani finally becoming a means of communication and identity marker?
Living languages are dynamic, and no script is perfect, much less eternal. For example, Goykanadi was the earliest known native script that Konkani used until replaced by other scripts. Similarly, the Anglo-Saxon futhorc was the earliest known English language script. However, in England, from the seventh century onwards, the futhorc coexisted with the Latin alphabet which then gradually replaced it. No one pines for the futhorc. The same is true of Turkey, Malaysia, Indonesia, Vietnam, and other countries that have given up their traditional scripts in favour of the Roman script to safeguard the future of the language.
A similar phenomenon occurred in Goa five centuries ago. With the arrival of the Portuguese, the Roman script became Konkani’s survival instrument. This script, which has been around for several centuries in India, is therefore not to be considered foreign; it is as Indian as the country’s English language. If the English language can be made the country’s official language alongside Hindi, so can the Roman script be made official alongside the Devanagari, given that the numbers and the production volume justify it.
To not let script become a divisive issue, would not Dalgado and Shenoi Goembab, then, consider letting Goa become the first state in the Indian Union to successfully adopt a multi-script situation? Any script that has worked in the past ought to work in the future as well, maybe with some refinement. This is true of both the Roman and the Devanagari script. Surely, Dalgado’s mission was to save the language over and above the script.
(First published in Revista da Casa de Goa, Series II, No. 38, Jan-Feb 2026, ISSN 2184-7045)
The first part of this article appeared on this blog on 20 September 2023.
References
[1] Rochelle Pinto, Between Empires: Print and Politics in Goa (New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2007), p. 113. Among other issues, the book notes the emergence of the Konkani language press in Bombay while the Goan elite sponsored the Portuguese language press in Goa.
[2] Paris, 1920.
[3] Bombay: Karnatak Press, 1942.
[4] Kiran Budkuley, Shenoi Goembab: The Man and his Work (Margão: Asmitai Pratisthan, 2003), p. 36.
[5] Bombay: Gomantak Press, 1947.
[6] Olivinho Gomes, Konkani Literature in Roman Script: A Brief History, Panjim: Dalgado Konknni Akademi, 2010, p. 174. The book dubs the Official Language Act, 1987, the political genocide of those demanding equal status to Konkani in the Roman script.
[7] Act No. 5 of 1987, in the Official Gazette, Series I, No. 7, dated 14 May 1987.
[8] Ibid., p. 177.
[9] Ibid., pp. 180-181.
[10] Jason Keith Fernandes, Citizenship in a Caste Polity: Religion, Language, and Belonging in Goa (Hyderabad: Orient Blackswan Pvt Ltd., 2020, p. 13. The book uses mobilisations around the Konkani language in Goa (in particular, the people’s struggle to secure for the Roman script equal status with the Devanagari script) to enter into a study of citizenship.
[11] Uday Bhembre, Yadincho Kurponno (Goa: Konknni Bhasha Mandal, 2025), p. 206-207. For the entire report by Bhushan Bhave, see Appendix 4, pp. 179-207.
Memories of the Tridentine Mass - 2/2
First, some history about the Old Goa chapel, which is closely associated with St. Francis Xavier’s memory. Whether or not he built it, he often said Mass there. He quenched his thirst at a nearby well and rinsed his dusty feet at another. This happened after his rounds of the churches, where he taught catechism, and the hospitals, where he tended to lepers and others. The chapel and the wells, which were formerly within the enclosure of the College of St Paul, where St Francis Xavier was once the Rector, have long been pilgrimage spots.
One day, either inside the chapel or at that site, the Jesuit missionary was so overpowered by devotional fervour as he prayed that he felt almost suffocated. Opening his cassock near his chest, he exclaimed, ‘Satis est, Domine, satis est!’ (Enough, Lord, enough).[1] There are others who say that it was a vision of heaven that comforted him in his Oriental toils.[2] This incident is said to have been crucial either in changing the name of the chapel from St Jerome to St Francis Xavier, or, if there was no chapel there, the present one was possibly built to commemorate the heavenly occurrence.
Coming now to the day I attended a Tridentine Mass in the said chapel… It was the 3rd of December 2024. Neither the nip in the air nor the traffic congestion on the feast day prevented people from flocking to the place. Despite the location being a kilometre away from the Basilica, which was the epicentre of the day’s action, I could not easily find a parking spot in the vicinity of the chapel. Men, women, and children in their Sunday best had come from far and wide, and some more were trooping up the gentle slope to the chapel. It took me back to the days when people used to make a beeline to church or chapel on Sundays and feast days…
When I arrived, I found the congregation eagerly waiting for the Mass. Their prayerful posture touched my soul. In a few minutes, a priest, attired de rigueur in a black cassock, arrived with the acolytes to ensure that everything was in place. The incense smell and the reverential silence magnified my sense of anticipation, and I felt good when the Mass began. There was nothing difficult or strange about it. Latin came across as my very own.
I could also relate to the parts of the Traditional Latin Mass. The canon has remained largely unchanged since the time of Pope Gregory the Great. The Mass includes more invocations to the Trinity, Mary, and saints than the Novus Ordo Mass. The Lectionary is incensed before the reading of the Gospel. The administration of Holy Communion too is impressive. It is a defining moment. At the chapel, the communicants knelt at the place where a special railing once stood and received the sacred host on the tongue. Reverence and awe were unmistakable. I felt drawn closer to the Holy Presence of God; I felt a sense of belonging to God’s City.
Finally, a word about the sermon. This is a part of the Mass meant for instruction: to explain the biblical readings and prepare the faithful for other sacred rites that follow. The priest, Fr. João Silveira, a Portuguese, who belongs to the Missionaries of the Holy Cross, preached in English, as it is a standard practice in the Traditional Latin Mass to have the sermon in the local language for the congregation’s understanding. The aura of the consecrated minister spoke louder than words.
After the Mass, the congregation greeted each other outside. Godly conversation. The most important item available for everyone to share was the water from the same well from which St. Francis Xavier drank. I heard pilgrims testifying to its healing properties for both the body and soul. Some claimed that they had visions of the Saint of Old Goa as they looked inside the well.
While I am grateful to the hundreds of priests whose Masses I have attended and prayed at in the last half-century, as I returned home that afternoon, I considered the irony of favouring local languages and congregation-facing altars to bring the Mass to the people, for alas, people nowadays fail to bring themselves to the Mass as they did it in illo tempore…
[1] J. N. da Fonseca, An Historical and Archaeological Sketch of the City of Goa (Bombay: Thacker & Co, 1878), pp. 266-268.
[2] Velha Goa: Guia Histórico (Goa: Edição da Repartição Central da Estatística e Informação, 1952), p. 123.
Memories of the Tridentine Mass
I recall attending the Tridentine Mass until I was five or so. My memories of it would have vanished had it not been for the day I discovered a dramatic change in the Mass format. The altar now faced the congregation and the Mass was held in the local language. Much later, I understood that the Second Vatican Council (1962-67) had mandated a change to accommodate the ‘Novus Ordo’ or the New Rite. This was meant to bring the Mass closer to the people in a more literal sense.
There was a change in the liturgy. Pope Paul VI promulgated liturgical books in 1969, and their adoption into the Roman rite began in 1970. In Goa, it changed entirely to Konkani, English, or Portuguese. I still have Goa’s first edition of the rite booklet in Portuguese, which my father gave me. I worried about my reading being out of pace with the celebrant’s and felt reassured when my father said that it would not be so for too long.
However, distrusting my own emotions, I kept it to myself that the Mass did not feel as calm and quiet as before. By the time of my First Holy Communion in 1972, there were plenty of new hymns in English and Konkani, the former of which were quite peppy. The priest-led choir seemed far happier than the congregation, at least in my parish.
Again, the older priests here delivered sermons while the younger ones seemed trained for homilies. The people took to these, yet some men continued the old practice of stepping out of the church for a smoke or a chat. Men’s smoking and women’s wearing of veils possibly ended in the late 1970s. Gender segregation also disappeared: men no longer sat exclusively in the rear pews and women in the front ones.
Therefore, after all these years, I jumped at the opportunity to attend a Vetus Ordo (Old Order) Mass with a good measure of saudade (nostalgia). It was to be held at a historic chapel dedicated to St Francis Xavier in Old Goa. Just the thought of it brought back memories of my parents, who had lovingly introduced me to the Mass, and my grandmothers, who had passed down piety through example. Above all, it was the richness of the liturgy in Latin and the solemnity of the Gregorian chant that made me truly want to attend.
In the run-up to that day, I ruminated on why the old form of the Mass was discontinued in the first place. Curiously, it was never officially stopped, but it was made to look obsolete by not being promoted or even spoken about. Some blamed it on Latin, which they dubbed difficult and strange. since Pope Pius V standardized the Roman Rite through the Roman Missal?
Come to think of it, can one ever feel out of place when visiting one’s paternal home, even if it is after half a century? Likewise, can a language ever feel foreign if it is our very own mother tongue—the official language of the Mother Church? The Tridentine Mass is the same Mass that St Francis Xavier said as he went about Christianizing Goa and India. Latin is the same language that our ancestors heard, sang in, read, and loved down the centuries.
Hence, on the occasion of the solemn Exposition of the Sacred Remains of St Francis Xavier last year, I decided to attend a Traditional Latin Mass, and I gratefully recall the day.
(to be continued tomorrow)
Panjim Church bell strikes 150
Panjim’s Immaculate Conception Church, with its zigzag stairway and whitewashed exterior, is a major attraction. Sitting high up on Conceição Hill, it crowns the city-centre landscape to a tee. No one goes by without looking twice at the majestic edifice or stopping to hear the church bells ringing. The rich and mellow tone of the main bell is a gift to the city’s soundscape. Today marks the day when it was first heard from the belfry 150 years ago.
The bell has a long history of travel. It was cast in 1749 by João Nicolau Levachi of the Royal Foundry of Lisbon, by order of Friar José de São Patrício, Prior of the Augustinian monastery in the Rome of East. It was a perfect match for Our Lady of Grace, the city’s grandest church. In 1841, as the monasterial church was inoperative, following the extinction of the Religious Orders, Governor José Joaquim Lopes de Lima shifted the bell to the Aguada Lighthouse. The clock regulating the eclipses struck the hours on this bell. This arrangement lasted for three decades (1841-71), until it was replaced by the Argand system.
The approximately 2.25-ton bell (diameter 2 m, height 1.8 m), Goa’s second largest after the Cathedral See’s Golden Bell, was then assigned to the Panjim parish church. In a daring project undertaken by machinist António Felix da Costa of Siolim in November 1874, the bell was transported on two canoes and offloaded at Cais dos Camotins (a wharf next to the Mhamai Kamats). It was hung on two thick makeshift columns, close to the cemetery behind the church, and was first rung on the feast’s eve that year.
The work on the architectural modification of the frontispiece began in August 1875. Then came the final stage of Costa’s ingenuity. By 26 November, the scaffolding was in position. The massive bell suspended from a pulley was raised slowly to the central belfry specially built for it. The spectators were amazed. Te Deum laudamus was sung on this day as well as on 1 December 1875, when the bell was rung from the apex for the first time.
It was not just another day in Goa. Those engineering feats deserved front-page coverage, except that Goa did not have a daily. In the former capital city, now called Old Goa, preparations were underway for the third solemn Exposition of St Francis Xavier. In Panjim, the new capital, officially called Nova Goa, the city centre was almost picture-perfect, with the Senate’s imposing clock tower building, the public promenade (today’s municipal garden), and the elegant Largo 13 de Junho, now Church Square. Only Corte de Oiteiro was left to complete the scene as it stands today.
It is quite another matter that a serious mishap tarnished the third anniversary of the installation of the Levachi bell. On the evening of Sunday, 1 December 1878, the third day of the novena to the Immaculate Conception, while the bells were ringing and the faithful were exiting the church, a hook bolt of the main bell came loose and fell on a devotee, Camilo Cipriano Barreto Pereira, causing a deep cut in his skull. According to the Orlim-based weekly A Índia Portuguesa, he was a newlywed native of Raia and an employee of the Military Hospital in the city. He succumbed to his injury 10 days later.
After a few years, the clapper of the bell dislodged, killing a man, and a smaller bell fell off from the tower. In 2018, a similar tragedy was averted, thanks to the alertness of parishioners Samuel D’Silva and John Fernandes. They repaired the sagging bell shaft and the broken clapper of the main bell. ‘We researched a lot before we started on this. We examined many bell towers, particularly that of the Cathedral See,’ said fabricator Silva.
The repairs took three years. Mechanical engineer Fernandes recalled the crucial inputs received from metallurgical engineer Edgar Remedios, fabricators Maria Enterprises of Pilerne, carpenter Mahesh Vishwakarma of Panjim, Rohan Parab of Mahalaxmi Workshop, Bethora, and welding technologist Ramesh Arolkar of Poona.
Fernandes said, ‘It is a joy that with their wholehearted cooperation we were able to complete the work with precision and without any casualty, by November 2021, under the banner of the Immaculate Conception.’ The works were undertaken during the tenure of parish priest Fr Walter de Sá and Confrarias president Pedrito Fernandes.
Appreciating the iconic heritage bell, parish priest Fr Cipriano da Silva, opines that the bell has aged as gracefully as the church building itself. ‘Majestically perched almost at the pinnacle of the frontispiece, the old bell not only adds beauty but also increases the faith and fervour of the people,’ he added.
Reflecting on the bell, Fr Haston Fernandes, assistant parish priest, said, ‘A church bell is not just metal clanging to remind the faithful about an oncoming liturgical ceremony. As per the old rite, its ringing has an exorcising power over the parish. We sometimes take our bells for granted. I hope our church bell awakens us spiritually as to what it has been doing every day.’
Panjim’s white icon is now hemmed in by high-rises, yet it remains the city’s best-known landmark. People also connect with its stately bell, which has a calming effect in the midst of an oppressive soundscape. The bell is a constant invitation to heed God’s voice.
Pic credits: 1, 2 - Oscar de Noronha; 3, 4, 5 - Samuel D'Silva
This article first appeared in Herald Cafe, 30 November 2025, p. 1, and, with a few additions, at https://www.heraldgoa.in/cafe/panjim-church-bell-strikes-150/455647/ on 1 December 2025.
Goencheo Mhonn'neo | Adágios Goeses - 12
Segue a duo-décima lista de adágios,[1] extraídos do livro Enfiada de Anexins Goeses, obra bilíngue (concani-português), de Roque Bernardo Barreto Miranda (1872-1935)[2].
| Concani | Tradução literal | Tradução livre
|
| Vagachyá tonddantuló suttunn, xinvanchyá tonddant poddló.
Vagachea tonddantlo suttun, xinvachea tonddant poddlo.
Ximêr moddém. Ximer moddem.
Ghâr firtokúsh vanché firtat. Ghor firtokuch vanxe firtat.
|
Escapando da boca do tigre, livre e são, caiu na de leão.
Salvo do mal menor, foi cair no maior. Colocar o cadáver no limite. (Processo torto; para se não saber a que paróquia pertence o morto.) Não decidir a questão; estar entre dois partidos, perplexo, em vacilação.
Quando, pelo aluimento Se vira uma casa, vira-se também o seu vigamento. Na adversidade, até amigos procedem como os inimigos. |
[1] Cf. um-décima lista, Revista da Casa de Goa, Série II, No. 34, maio-junho de 2025, p. 52.
[2] Roque Bernardo Barreto Miranda, Enfiada de Anexins Goeses, dos mais correntes (Goa: Imprensa Nacional, 1931), com acrescentamento dos adágios na grafia moderna, pelo nosso editor associado Óscar de Noronha.
Publicado na Revista da Casa de Goa, Serie II, No. 37, Set-Out 2025, p. 46
‘Christ is King’: do we really mean it?
The last Sunday of the liturgical year is dedicated to Christ the King. Even if He is not acknowledged in the secular world today, we can be sure that He will be sooner or later. Meanwhile, within the Church, it is for us to proclaim Him from the rooftops. But do we do it?
Sad to say, nowadays, even in the highest echelons of the ecclesiastical hierarchy, many bend over backwards to please the world. As if to justify such an approach, they say that we must move with the world. To them, G. K. Chesterton has fittingly said, ‘We do not want a Church that will move with the world. We want a church that will move the world.’ This is a self-respectful, dignified, spirited, and inspiring position.
In the First Reading (2 Sam 5: 1-3), we see how the tribes of Israel pleaded with David to lead them as their king. Saul, the first king of Israel, had left the kingdom in a shambles. After his death in battle, the kingdom split between his successor, Ish-bosheth, and David. After a civil war, David defeated Ish-bosheth and unified the northern kingdom of Israel with the southern kingdom of Judah, establishing a new united monarchy.
David instructed his successor, Solomon, to follow God’s law at all times and be sure of success. Despite his reign beginning with prosperity, wisdom, and major construction projects such as the First Temple, Solomon’s later years were marked by excessive taxation and the introduction of idolatry through his many foreign wives. This led to unrest and the eventual division of the kingdom after his death.
Idolatry is a nuisance of our times as well. Do you remember the glorification of Pachamama (a goddess of Earth and fertility from Andean cultures, primarily Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador, and northern Argentina) during the Amazon Synod at the Vatican? Catholics around the world were indignant not only to see the pagan statues present in various ceremonies but also to see the then Pope bless one of them. He was also present when the statue was carried into the synod hall at the beginning of the Synod, accompanied again with pagan rituals.[1] While top prelates looked on, thankfully, three cardinals and three bishops separately voiced opposition to paganism in the church ceremonies.[2]
The Gospel (Lk 23: 35-43) reminds us that when Our Lord was on the Cross, the people stood watching, and the rulers derided Him, saying: ‘He saved others; let him save himself, if he be Christ, the elect of God.’ When we bow to other gods and seek their favour, not only are we complicit in idolatry, it is a clear sign that we do not believe that Christ alone can save us. The soldiers also mocked Him, and one of the robbers blasphemed Him, as some of us do today. In such situations, we would do well to say to the perpetrators of the crime, ‘Neither dost thou fear God...?'
However, it takes faith to say those words, and faith to believe! Perhaps we would ask God for pardon at the hour of our death, as the robber did by saying ‘Lord, remember me when thou shalt come into thy kingdom.’ But then, will we have the time or the occasion to repent? Therefore, it is better to give up wrongful ways while it is still time. Let us take courage and call them out, no matter who or what. We shall have done our duty, and when our time comes, Jesus will say to us, as He said to the repentant robber: ‘Amen I say to thee, this day thou shalt be with me in Paradise.’
In this matter, no one could be more seasoned than St. Paul. In the Second Reading (Col 1: 12-20), he who weathered many storms tells us of Christ’s supremacy: all things in heaven and on earth were created through Him and for Him. God the Father has made us worthy to be partakers of the company of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the power of darkness and has translated us into the kingdom of the Son of His love, who is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of every creature.
Do we still dare not acknowledge Him as King? Are we going to exchange eternal salvation for petty trinkets here on earth? Those who have the responsibility to lead the faithful will have to give an account of themselves, and so will the faithful, who can tell the difference between true and false, right and wrong, and good and bad. So, let us hasten not only to proclaim but also show through our actions that Christ is King.
Banner: https://www.usccb.org/Christ-the-King-2024-novena
[1] https://www.corrispondenzaromana.it/international-news/six-cardinals-and-bishops-who-condemned-pagan-pachamama-rituals-at-vatican/
[2] Cardinal Raymond Leo Burke from USA; Cardinal Robert Sarah from Guinea; Cardinal Gerhard Müller, former Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith; Bishop Joseph Strickland of USA; Bishop Athanasius Schneider of Kazakhstan, and Bishop Peter Chukwu of Nigeria.
Mariano Saldanha: um distinto académico goês
Ao conhecer um grande senhor nascido apenas duas décadas após a Revolta dos Cipaios[1], senti a corrente do passado transitar suavemente para o presente. Esse notável goês, que emigrara para Portugal no ano da Grande Depressão, passou os anos de jubilado em Goa e faleceu após Portugal ter reconhecido formalmente a conquista indiana da sua terra natal. Era quase centenário, porém, isso é o mínimo que se pode dizer de alguém que marcou na história de várias outras maneiras.
Primeiros anos
Mariano José Luís de Gonzaga Saldanha, vulgo Mariano Saldanha, nasceu em 21 de Junho de 1878, filho de Luís José António Assis André de Saldanha, de Ucassaim, e de Ana Joaquina Ermelinda da Pureza e Dias, de Socorro. Era médico que se fez indologista e pesquisou a história, língua, literatura e cultura indo-portuguesas. Era sobrinho de dois irmãos padres, Joaquim José Santana de Saldanha, fundador de uma escola na aldeia, e de Manuel José Gabriel de Saldanha, professor do Liceu de Nova Goa e autor da clássica História de Goa[2], em dois volumes.
Em 1905, Mariano Saldanha formou-se em medicina e farmácia pela antiga Escola Médico-Cirúrgica de Goa e depois trabalhou como médico em Goa e a bordo de navios. Entretanto, sentindo-se vocacionado para o estudo de línguas indianas, aprendeu o sânscrito com monsenhor Sebastião Rodolfo Dalgado, na Faculdade de Letras da Universidade de Lisboa, e frequentou cursos na Escola Colonial. Na época de Herculano em Portugal, e de Cunha Rivara e de Dalgado em Goa, não era raro um profissional do ramo da ciência interessar-se pelas humanidades; contudo, no caso de Mariano Saldanha, a mudança foi total.
Em 1915, foi nomeado professor de marata e sânscrito no referido Liceu. No ano seguinte, publicou O Curso de Sânscrito Clássico,[3] que compreendia o seu discurso inaugural sobre a importância desta língua e os documentos relativos à criação do curso em questão. Em 1926, traduziu o poema Mêghaduta, ou a mensagem do exilado,[4] de Kalidasa, poeta e dramaturgo da Índia antiga, anotado, prefaciado e acompanhado do original sânscrito.
Docente em Lisboa
Em 1929, Mariano Saldanha mudou-se para Lisboa, agora como professor de sânscrito na sua alma mater, ocupando o lugar que ficara vago desde a morte de monsenhor Dalgado em 1922. Trazia ao povo português uma mensagem de amizade de Rabindranath Tagore, Prémio Nobel da Literatura, quem visitara em Shanti-Niketan em 1927, atraído pela ideia de harmonizar a cultura indiana antiga com ideias internacionais. Após a morte do grande poeta e pedagogo bengalês, Saldanha recordou o encontro na memória que publicou com o título “O Poeta de uma Universidade e a Universidade de um Poeta”[5].
Em 1946, Mariano Saldanha era nomeado subdirector do Instituto de Línguas Africanas e Orientais da Escola Superior Colonial, onde veio a leccionar o sânscrito e o concani até se aposentar em 1948. Publicou a Ultima Lectio[6], e depois da jubilação, um manual, Iniciação na Língua Concani, “especialmente organizado para o ensino, de carácter prático, da língua concani” na referida Escola.[7]
Voltou a Goa em 1950, onde permaneceu cerca de quatro anos, tendo sido depois convidado pelo Governo da Metrópole a participar na elaboração de um projecto de ensino público em concani, para Goa, e na transmissão de programas radiofónicos nessa língua para a diáspora goesa na África Oriental Britânica e no Golfo Pérsico.[8]
Aproveitou a oportunidade para continuar as suas pesquisas na capital.
Concanista de renome
Além de docente, Mariano Saldanha foi um investigador de renome, principalmente como concanista, ou seja, na ‘Concanologia’[9]. No 50.º aniversário da morte do ilustre estudioso, cumpre recordar o seu precioso contributo para os estudos da Língua Concani, que tanto amou e pela qual tantos esforços despendeu.
Dedicou-se sobremaneira à pesquisa fundamental da língua da sua terra natal. Visitou bibliotecas, arquivos e museus de Goa, Lisboa, Évora, Braga, Paris, Londres e Roma, vasculhando livros e manuscritos, à procura da mais pequena pista. Escreveu exuberantemente, com artigos em revistas científicas e em jornais.
Em 1936, escreveu uma valiosa história da gramática concani, no Bulletin of the School of Oriental Studies, que se destacou também pelo pioneirismo.[10] Em 1943, escreveu uma série de artigos sobre “Questões do Concani”, no Heraldo, um diário panginense.[11]
Em 1945, publicou a 2.a edição, fac-similada, com introdução, notas e glossário, de Doutrina cristã em língua concani (1622)[12], de Thomas Stephens, missionário jesuíta britânico, que foi o primeiro inglês a chegar ao subcontinente indiano e pioneiro no estudo das línguas indianas.
Em 1950, descobriu três códices na Biblioteca Pública de Braga, a saber, n.os 771, 772 e 773. As primeiras duas relatam, em concani, histórias tiradas das epopeias indianas, respectivamente, o Mahabharata e o Ramaiana; o último contém três dezenas de poemas em marata, também da mesma fonte; e todos eles escritos em caracteres romanos.[13] Prontamente informou outros interessados, inclusive um dos seus dissidentes ideológicos, A. K. Priolkar.[14]
Cultura goesa
Mariano Saldanha tinha consciência da rara singularidade de Goa, no meio do vasto subcontinente indiano, como síntese cultural do Oriente e Ocidente e detentora de um modo de vida próprio. Por isso, em 1947, mal que sentiu soprar os ventos da mudança política, o seu profundo amor à terra natal levou-o a dar um sinal de alerta.
Fê-lo primeiro por meio de um ensaio intitulado “A lusitanização de Goa”, na revista Rumo.[15] Em Goa, a Repartição de Estatística e Informação reimprimiu-o,[16] e em Portugal, a Agência-Geral do Ultramar traduziu-o em grande parte para o livro Portugal Overseas and the Question of Goa[17]. Ainda hoje é muito citado.
O douto professor sentiu-se feliz como presidente da 5.a edição do Konkani Porixod, conferência a nível pan-indiano, realizada em Bombaim, em 1952. O seu «Odhiokxachem Bhaxonn»[18], ou discurso presidencial, foi publicado em caracteres latinos, que recomendava para o concani moderno. Nessa ocasião afirmou que o concani é uma língua independente do marata e que deveria ser o veículo de instrução primária em Goa.
A propósito do referido Porixod, deu largas ao seu conceito histórico da língua concani, na memória intitulada “A língua concani: as suas conferências e a acção portuguesa na sua cultura”, publicada no Boletim do Instituto Vasco da Gama.[19] Duas décadas antes abordara esse tema no IX Congresso Provincial de Goa[20].
Nesta fase da vida, expressou-se também sobre a música ocidental em Goa[21]; sobre a imprensa seiscentista aí estabelecida, pioneira na Ásia[22]; e sobre a literatura purânica cristã[23], frisando sempre a identidade marcante de Goa.
Os seus trabalhos retratam-no como investigador escrupuloso, crítico exigente e polemista temível.[24]
Últimos anos
Em 1958, Mariano Saldanha voltou de vez ao solar da família e à aldeia natal que ainda mantinha o charme rústico de outrora. Aceitou como facto consumado o desfecho que teve o conhecido Caso de Goa e, em 1967, regozijou-se com o resultado do Opinion Poll, ou referendo. Infelizmente, na vida particular, foi, por um lado, vítima das leis de expropriação do período pós-1961, e por outro, privado das suas últimas economias que havia confiado ao seu antigo empregado em Portugal. Para agravar, saiu prejudicado na reforma devido ao novo contexto político.
Apesar disso, a vida continuou. Com excepção da gota e da surdez, gozava de boa saúde e manteve-se lúcido até ao fim da vida. Escrevia para os órgãos públicos, recebia visitas e aceitava convites para reuniões académicas e outras. E ainda na provecta idade, costumava celebrar o seu aniversário, cercado de familiares e amigos da velha-guarda.
Manuel Leitão, filho do seu antigo cuidador Francisco, recorda-o como um católico devoto, de coração bondoso e leitor assíduo de jornais da língua portuguesa (O Heraldo e A Vida), concani (Vauraddeancho Ixtt, Sot e Uzvadd) e marata (Gomantak), de entre os publicados em Goa. Mantinha relações com os respectivos directores e colaboradores, e no interesse destes, e ansioso por estabelecer padrões elevados, corria com tinta vermelha os jornais concani.
O erudito era consultado em assuntos relativos a Goa e ao concani. Não admira que a sua rica biblioteca com centenas de livros, microfilmes e manuscritos, tivesse atraído jornalistas e investigadores, entre os quais Carmo Azevedo, que, escrevendo no mensário Goa Today, o apelidou de “enciclopédia viva de coisas goesas”[25], bem como os activistas do Konkani Bhasha Mandal. A família doou o acervo ao Xavier Centre of Historical Research, de Goa.
Apesar das cãs, o bom e velho solteirão era paciente com os jovens. Maria Helena Saldanha de Santana Godinho deleitava-se com o saber e a sagacidade do seu tio-avô. Graças à sua prodigiosa memória, este contava-lhe prontamente histórias sobre Akbar, Xivaji e outros vultos indianos, que faziam parte dos currículos escolares do pós-1961; e ela incluía-as nas suas provas.
Tive eu, como menino de 6 anos, o meu primeiro encontro com o professor já então nonagenário. No Hospital do Asilo, em Mapuçá, havia ele discursado e descerrado o busto do Dr. Ernesto Borges, seu sobrinho-neto, oncologista de renome mundial e que cedo pagou o tributo à morte. Foi um momento emocionante. Eu acompanhava a minha tia Maria Zita da Veiga, que havia experimentado o seu toque curativo. Após a cerimónia, perguntaram ao professor se se importaria de esperar um pouco mais pelo transporte para casa. Impressionou-me a sua resposta: “Claro que me importo”. E logo a gargalhada que se seguiu desdizia tudo….
É impossível dizer tudo de uma vez sobre Mariano Saldanha, distinto académico goês que muito honrou a sua terra. Faleceu em 23 de Outubro, mês Mariano, do ano de 1975, quase desconhecido das novas gerações e um tanto esquecido pelas velhas. Deve ser, porém, evocado com gratidão e estudado com atenção, tal como todos os vultos da nossa terra, para que se facilite assim uma transição harmoniosa do passado para o presente.
(Publicado na Revista da Casa de Goa, Serie II, No. 37, Novembro-Dezembro 2025, pp. 33-37)
Referências
[1] Revolta armada, realizada entre os anos de 1857 e 1859, em oposição ao domínio britânico, a qual de Meerut passou para Delhi, Kanpur e Lucknow, cidades no norte da Índia.
[2] 2.ª edição. Nova Goa: Edição da Livraria Coelho, 1925-26. A primeira edição intitulava-se Resumo da HIstória de Goa, publicada em 1898, em um único volume.
[3] Nova Goa: Imprensa Nacional, 1916.
[4] Nova Goa: Casa Editora Livraria Coelho, 1926.
[5] Revista de Faculdade de Letras, Universidade de Lisboa, N.º X, 1943, pp. 57-77.
[6] Anuário da Escola Superior Colonial, Ano XXIX, 1947-48, Lisboa, 1948. Também nos Estudos Coloniais, Lisboa, Vol. I, 1948-49.
[7] Parte I: Noções Gramaticais. Lisboa: 1950. Não consta que tenha saído a Parte II.
[8] “Mariano Saldanha: a centenary tribute”, de Teotónio R. de Souza, in Indica, Vol. 15, N.º 2, Setembro de 1978, pp. 135-138.
[9] Termo por ele cunhado para se referir às “publicações relativas ao concani”, veja-se Monsenhor Dalgado. Esboço bio-bibliográfico. Lisboa: 1933, p. 11.
[10] "História da Gramática Concani," Bulletin of the School of Oriental Studies 8 (1935–37), pp. 715-735.
[11] Heraldo, de 14, 16, 24, e 30 de Março de 1943.
[12] Lisboa: Agência Geral das Colónias, 1945.
[13] Os códices ora encontram-se na biblioteca da Universidade do Minho, veja-se The Old Konkani Bhārata. Volume 1: Introduction, de Rocky Miranda (Margão: Asmitai Pratishthan, 2019), p. xi.
[14] Mais tarde, Panduronga Pissurlencar, José Pereira, António Pereira, Lourdino Rodrigues, Rocky Miranda e outros serviram-se dos mesmos códices para os seus trabalhos de pesquisa.
[15] Rumo, Revista de Cultura Portuguesa. Ano 1, Agosto e Setembro, 1946, pp 343-366
[16] No. 6 da série da Colecção de Divulgação e Cultura.
[17] Lisboa: Agência-Geral do Ultramar, s.d., pp 41-58
[18] Konknni Porixod. Panchvi Boska. 1952. Odhiokx: Dr. Mariano Saldanha, Hachem Bhaxonn. (Mumboi: Fr Napoleon Silveira, 1952) É o único texto seu expresso inteiramente em concani.
[19] N.o 71, 1953.
[20] Congresso Provincial da Índia Portuguesa (Nono), Nova Goa: Tip. Bragança, 1931.
[21] “A cultura da música europeia em Goa”, Separata da Revista do Instituto Superior de Estudos Ultramarinos, Vol. VI (1956).
[22] “A primeira imprensa em Goa”, Separata do Boletim do Instituto Vasco da Gama, N.º 73, 1956.
[23] “A literatura purânica cristã e os respectivos problemas linguísticos e bibliográficos”, Separata do Boletim do Instituto Vasco da Gama, N.º 82, 1961.
[24] Veja-se As investigações de um gramático (Lisboa: Tip. Carmona, 1933), em que escalpela a obra Elementos gramaticais da língua concani (Lisboa: Agência Geral das Colónias, 1929), de José de S. Rita e Sousa, antigo professor da Escola Superior Colonial; e Aditamentos e correcções à monografia O Livro e o Jornal em Goa (Bastorá: Tip. Rangel, 1936) e Ainda a monografia O Livro e o Jornal em Goa (Bastorá: Tip. Rangel, 1938), nas quais interpela o professor liceal Leão Crisóstomo Fernandes.
[25] “A Date with Dr. Mariano Saldanha”, in Goa Today, p. 13.