Biography

- Manohar Malgaonkar

The year was 1947. The Second World War had ended two years earlier. Now there was nothing to stop him from going to Paris to study Art. But something else had happened to make him put off that decision. The British had pulled out of India, but the Portuguese had made it clear that they had no intention of leaving Goa. For Goans, who for all practical purposes were Portuguese citizens, this was a time of uncertainty.

Relations between India and Portugal were worsening by the day. If it came to an open conflict what sort of future did someone like himself have in an India at war with Portugal?

He played games, made friends, squired girls to dances; saw a lot of movies, attended church if only to keep in touch with fellow-Goans; found out places where one could get a drink in bone-dry Bombay and frequented Irani tea shops.

And all the while he was refining his ability to draw by practice, practice and more practice. Now at college, a pen and paper were always handy while he was in class, and he could not sit still for long, listening to professors spouting. He pretended to take notes and drew pictures instead.

Among these professors, was the iconic figure of Manuel Colaco, the head of the English Department at St Xavier’s College. Mario remembers how, as he was busily drawing his portrait at one of his lectures, Colaco came up to him and stared at his own likeness. He asked Mario, “Were you not listening to my lecture?”

“But I was, Sir,” Mario told him. “I can go on drawing while I listen to lectures.”

Professor Colaco stood shaking his head. “All I can say is that you’re very good at making likenesses. I am keeping this drawing for myself.”