Godfrey Joseph Pereira is the author of ‘Bloodline bandra’. He has been a journalist and a War Correspondent. Presently he is writing his next Novel: ‘Letters To Esther.’ He lives in The New York Area.
Q} Tell me, how did ‘Bloodline bandra’ start?
G.J.P: The literature student in me had always wanted to document the way Roman Catholics in India spoke the English language. Phonetically it is a linguistic ear tingler, timbered with harmonic and rhythmic cadences that dance; and the flow is amusing and entertaining. As a child I had heard this talk, and then like the ancient Pāli language, it disappeared, almost. I wanted to document those glorious dialogues, pickle that “Cock Sure” swagger and capture its rustic essence so that it would be preserved in words bound by paper. I mean, where in this world, will you hear something like this: “Sandra, what you cooking men, everybody knows you bleddy can’t boil rice to save your face?” And Sandra answers; “Yes men, I’m making Ball Curry and Cock Soup. Bugger when you bleddy go home, pull your pants down and see what is missing. You coming to eat or wot men? Want to bring your bleddy wife to my supper?” The sarcasm, the humor, the abuse, the double entendre, the innuendo …it’s absolutely bloody brilliant, and it is all delivered in a sing song musical way without sounding crass, obscene or offensive. The way they talked was a linguistic wonderland. I had to try and put this down on paper. I have to add this; Ball Curry is a famous East Indian beef dish; you will have to figure out what Cock Soup is. I am an East Indian. I had to do this. I sometimes think it’s my psychological pay back for leaving and running off to America.
Excerpt from Bloodline bandra – Credit Harper Collins
And so when Harry Homo, who incidentally was happily married with five children, began surreptitiously beckoning Village teenage boys and taking them to abandoned buildings, the Villagers chuckled. They knew about his “dirty pictures.” Harry Homo did not live in the Village but he was a big part of its growing up process. They knew what he was doing; they laughed and tactically agreed that he was harmless. Harry Homo was Bandra’s unofficial sex educator and titillator- in- chief. He was fiercely heterosexual. He knew what people called him; it did not seem to bother him. Harry Homo sincerely believed that he was a sex educator of sorts. “You buggers should know all dis stuff men. Your Fadder and Mudder will bleddy never tell you about all dis, but bugger it is Ok men, wot do you want to know, ask me. Dis little thing here in her…. And dat is called a bleddy….” He dealt exclusively with young boys. Harry Homo usually met teenage boys coming back from school: “Hey bugger want to see bleddy dirty pictures, or wot?” he would say with a leer, his hand in his satchel. For a teenager from Pali Village to view florid photographs of lusty European fornication and fellatio in four color was an exquisite journey into the forbidden walled city. It was a crotch tingling epicurean education crafted at the Playboy Mansion by Marquis de Sade. Harry Homo was not a predatory pedophile. He never “touched” the boys as he explained in staccato short sentences, who was doing what and how in the pictures. It seems he got his thrills from the teenager’s trembling excitement as he noticed the sweat on their foreheads and the little hard bulge in their short pants. Everybody knew Harry Homo. He was the kind, wise, understanding Bandra medicine man of troubled teenage sexual exploration.
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