Many, many monsoons ago, the thrill of drinking urrak – nice and chilled with an equally-cold Limca – set the body tone for the cool of the rains that were to follow.
And, with that first monsoon shower, out of the closet came caju feni that was imbibed, either, with water or soda.
Times are changing, and one wonders who changed those times because the trend today is of having the same urrak, but now with a green chilli and in some instances, with kokum instead of lime.
Times are changing, and one wonders who changed those times because the trend today is of having the same urrak, but now with a green chilli and in some instances, with kokum instead of lime.
One knew it was urrak time because it was when only bottled carbonated lime products were marketed, whilst the other fizz remained silent. It was a time when urrak was synonymous with lime.
Unlike caju feni, urrak can be consumed in larger quantities, and though the taste is more refreshing then pungent, it is cheaper, hits when least expected and does not leave the drinker fuming.
The urrak distilled today is pretty similar to the one of the past, and though the increase in price is nominal, the focus of drinking it has shifted from locals to tourists.
And perhaps, that is where the trend to drink urrak with chilli and all other blends is finding a place in bar counters across the State. It is style and not taste that is slowly robbing the essence of monsoons past, compared to the one we are all expecting.
If urrak was the drink, sausage or fried chicken was the snack, with roasted gram and groundnuts filling in the gaps. If three sat together for a drink, an equal number, or more, bottles were consumed as the conversation turned more sanguine.
Drinking urrak with a chilli in the glass is not just a style statement, but going stag to the dance floor with glass of urrak is tending to be the cultural stamp that is being embossed by those who believe that relocating in Goa is enough to call oneself a Goan.
The urrak distilled today is pretty similar to the one of the past, and though the increase in price is nominal, the focus of drinking it has shifted from locals to tourists.
There was a group of individuals -- two Goans, an outsider settled in Goa for 20 years or more, and one recently relocated -- who met up for dinner one day.
As they drank and ate, the guy who had resettled long ago kept feeding the newcomer on what to do when in Goa and what not to.
As he spoke, the Goans listened until, one of the Goans asked the boy from outside, “Who are you to tell him about what it is to be Goan?” He promptly replied, “I am Goan because I have lived here for so many years.”
“If you are a Goan, then who am I?” asked the other. And, the reply to that was: “You are a native.” The story ended there, whilst there was a switch of drinks.
Being Goan is not what you drink or eat, but more about how you eat and when – the class that goes in eating is a class enjoyed by a local, and cannot be imitated by anyone else. And, that is what has attracted tourists to Goa since the beginning.
Then, and even now, they come to Goa to enjoy the class.
Goa was a beautiful place, and here, the emphasis is on the word ‘was’, because the Goa of the past exists only in the minds of those who cared to preserve it. Now, it is merely a beautiful story, difficult to capture in print.
Goa was a beautiful place, and here, the emphasis is on the word ‘was’, because the Goa of the past exists only in the minds of those who cared to preserve it. Now, it is merely a beautiful story, difficult to capture in print.
Today, that beauty can be seen in isolation. One needs to drive for a long distance or walk many steps to see the Goa of the past or meet a Goan, who has kept the spirit in himself alive.
Fortunately, not all of Goa is gone. Goodness is not easy to wipe away or get rid of. Goa was, once, full of it. Something is better than nothing, because the chilli will not rob urrak of its essence.
