Behind the News: Voices from Goa's Press. Various

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two vivacious sisters, Tina and Colete Xavier, students at that time.

      The pad-iatra started on October 26, 1980. Fonseca recalls that wherever they went, they received a good response. Money, small and big sums, was contributed. There were occasions too when – language being a sensitive issue in Goa – they were insulted. But they had decided not to retaliate in any way. A person spat on a young pad-iatri, Srikant Chodankar, when he knocked at his door for his contribution for the new paper. But he bravely said 'thank you' and stepped out with the others.

      Two of the girls accompanying him burst into tears, as participants from that venture recall.

      The eventful 'pad-iatra' ended on December 31, New Year's eve. By then, the volunteers had managed to collect around Rs 250,000, a tidy sum considering that this was just in the start of the 'eighties, when the rupee still had more value than now.

      Needless to say, it took about six months to create the requisite infrastructure to launch the daily. Finding premises, purchasing machinery and recruiting the staff. When the Novem Goem first hit the stands in 1980, many naturally had great expectations that it would serve as a people's paper. Several dailies in the past had not survived for long, given the huge requirement of funds.

      Indeed, Novem Goem could not scale great heights; but it had many 'lows' during its span. The coverage could not be extensive, nay it was even below average. This is perhaps understandably because the publication could not engage a big team of reporters or set up a network of reporters in all corners of Goa. But it carried to work with few expectations and fewer rewards.

      During the agitation, the tabloid served to keep the mass of Konkani lovers, specially in its heartland of Salcete, if it can be called that, posted of various developments. The paper served to forge a relationship and bridge the gap between the old Roman Konkani writers and those who had just started writing in the Devnagri script. Well-known poets, writers, such as Uday Bhembre, Dr Bhikaji Ganekar, Manoharrari Sardesai were among those who often contributed their writings to the paper.

      The paper also sought to raise the standard of Konkani among its readers by often explaining difficult words, as compared to the poor quality of writing in most Roman script periodicals. I myself recall contributing to a column Aichim Don Utram (Today's Two Words), which gave the readers two new words to learn daily, with meanings in English and also illustrated by examples.

      'Konkni uloi, Konkni boroi, Konknintlean sorkar choloi' (Speak Konkani, Write Konkani, Administer The State In Konkani), the slogan coined by one of the trustees, Gurunath Kelekar, gained currency and set the mood among Konkani lovers.

      While the paper finally closed down, coincidentally, it did so after Konkani was included in the Eight Schedule of the Constitution of India and Goa was granted statehood – two of the avowed objectives for which the Trust had launched the paper. Many may be skeptical about the contribution of this small paper to these two great and important causes. But having worked in this paper for just over three years as a sub-editor, I recall that Dr Rebello, as its editor, contributed significantly to the chorus for the twin demand.

      DURING THE ENTIRE existence of the paper, its management had to face several struggles and even upheavals among the trustees.

      Its problems started from the day the presses were set up. While an offset machine could have been bought, a Glockner machine owned by one of the Trustees was sold to the Trust. With that, it was only possible to print a tabloid paper. The machinery subsequently gave several problems. How a newspaper cannot survive without infusion of frequent doses of capital was best exemplified here. Advertising revenue was very low, though there were phases when its staff pooled their efforts to raise funds by canvassing for advertisements through their own initiative. There were managerial problems, too. With lack of experience in running a paper, and negligence by some of the Trustees at certain stages, the roof finally had to cave in.

      A former trustee alleges that the quantum of advertisements released by the government to the paper was meagre, and the staff even led a morcha to the Secretariat, alleging shabby treatment. This continued even after Konkani was made the official language of the state.

      If the paper survived for around a decade, it could be termed as a miracle of sorts. There were around 7,000 readers, who religiously read the daily. However, the poor coverage towards the end saw its readership go down sharply. The emergence of a slickly printed and produced Konkani-monthly Gulab also hastened its death.

      However, there was no dearth of sympathisers. Gulf Goans contributed generously, and quite often, to keep it afloat. But tiatrists were largely not among them as they showed apathy towards it vis-a-vis advertisements of their shows. They preferred an English-language daily and very few advertised in Novem Goem, if at all rarely.

      The real heroes and the sufferers in the bargain were the Novem Goem workers, who toiled during its entire 10-year existence. Lack of revenue meant that they often received their salaries late. On the 10th of any month, it was not unusual for the management to announce they would give some advance on the salary. For one thing, the salary was being delayed; over and above, to be told that they would get it in installments was the ultimate affront. More so when these were people with families to feed. But this went on month after month, specially during the last few years.

      They were entitled to a scale of salaries under Palekar Wage Award – the Central Government-notified standards then in force for minimum wages to be paid to journalists – but they accepted graciously whatever they were offered. This was, naturally, much below the Wage Board recommendations.

      And the employees, having few options, hung on with commendable courage, though there was no hope of a turn around. Their toil and sacrifices were really something to think about. After the paper closed, they should have received their dues from what came in as the proceeds from the sale of machinery and the balance of a raffle draw, which had been floated to raise funds for the paper.

      But they are yet to be given their due.

      The paper finally went to bed for the last time some time in June 1988. And a novel experiment to offer a people's paper to the masses made a quiet and sad exit….

      Chapter 5: The Herald of A New Ethos

R.K. Nair

      R.K. Nair sees himself as a battle-scarred veteran too (adding, "though close friends in Goa may describe me as bottle-scarred"). He has 'seen action' in Kuwait and Iraq after his departure from Goa. Back in India after the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, he worked for the Indian Express. He then went to Oman, returning again to take up an assignment with the Hindu, where he currently works.

      So the Rajan era has finally come to an end at the Herald . Sad though it may seem in human terms, it is unlikely to surprise anyone who has at least a nodding acquaintance with his brand of journalism – especially his strident and sensational approach to contentious issues, such as the language agitation of the 'eighties.

      By the time I arrived in Goa, the Herald (formerly O Heraldo ) had celebrated the third anniversary of its re-incarnation as an Englishman – but it was not yet out of the birth pangs. It often looked like a one-man show. The six-to-eight page broad-sheet was Rajan Narayan's play-field, and he played with gusto – solo at times, fast and loose frequently. His output was phenomenal. He wrote the lead story, the front-page anchor, the edit almost everyday, six days a week, for several years. Besides, there also was the long-winded 'Stray Thoughts', on Sundays.

      Life at The Navhind Times was sedentary by comparison.

      In keeping with the image of Goa being a land of laid-back lotus eaters, the NT staffers were under no pressure to perform. Being the dominant daily, news came naturally to the NT. In those days, it operated out of a small rented building, adjoining a bar and restaurant, on the outskirts of Panjim as the new building

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