Requirements by Indians to apply for a Portuguese Passport

Requirements by Indians to apply for a Portuguese Passport

Requirements To Apply:

All applications for Portuguese Nationality should be submitted to the nearest Portuguese Consulate of your area.

The following documents will be necessary for the Application:

1. For those born in the Antigo Estado da India before 18th December 1961:

Birth certificate and Marriage certificate (if applicable) issued by the Conservatória do Registo Civil de Goa, Damão, Diu e Dadrá e Nagar Avelí.

Same documents for the spouse (if applicable).

Legal Identification Documents (current passport). If submitted in Goa: valid Indian Passport or identity certificate with attached photograph issued by Mamlatdar/Sarpanch. Other identity cards can include a ration card or a voter identity card or a driving licence.

Certificate of Residency with full address and photograph.

Certificate of Residency indicating residency between January 1974 and December 1975. If you were residing in the ex-Portuguese territories in Africa you do not qualify to apply.

2. For those born after 18th December 1961:

It will be necessary to prove that their parents were born in the Antigo Estado da India (Goa, Damão, Diu e Dadrá e Nagar Aveli) and got married there before 18th of December 1961.

Birth certificate of the parents, marriage certificate of the parents, death certificate if any of the parents is deceased, all issued by the Conservatória do Registo Civil de Goa, Damão, Diu e Dadrá e Nagar Aveli.

Birth certificate and marriage certificate (if applicable) of the individual applying.

Legal Identification Documents (current passport). If submitted in Goa: valid Indian Passport or identity certificate with attached photograph issued by Mamlatdar/Sarpanch. Other identity cards can include a ration card or a voter identity card or a driving licence.

Certificate of Residency with full address and photograph.

Certificate of Residency indicating residency between January 1974 and December 1975. If you were residing in the ex-Portuguese territories in Africa you do not qualify to apply.

3. For those born after 18th December 1961 whose parents were born in the Antigo Estado da India before that date and got married after that date or got married outside the Antigo Estado da India:

It will be necessary to register their parents first or at least one of the parents according to number 1.

The Nationality Application of the individual can only be submitted after the full registration (birth and marriage certificate) of the individual's parents (or at least one of the parents) as Portuguese in the Registo Civil Português.

If the birth and the marriage certificates of the parents (or of at least one of the parents) of the individual are already registered in the Registo Civil Português, the individual just has to submit the respective references (numbers and year of the birth and marriage certificate).

Attention:

All documents written in English or any other language must be translated to Portuguese.

All documents issued in Goa must be certified by a) Public Notary, b) Collector, c) Under Secretary (Home)

All documents issued in Damão and Diu must be certified by a) Public Notary, b) Mamlatdar and Joint Secretary (Home).

All documents issued in Bombay must be certified by a) Public Notary, b) Mantralaya.

Incomplete documents or documents not following these instructions will not be accepted.

NB: These are not legal/professional translations.

This part applies to all applicants:

The reader must consult and refer to the nearest Portuguese Consulate and ask for detailed and up to date information before proceeding.

It would be advised to search for professional help as well (lawyer or solicitor).

Please note that Portugal allows dual nationality but not all countries allow and you should be aware of this before applying.

Read more: http://www.digitaljournal.com/article/263507#ixzz1HZ9SJCeZ

Sara's poverty escape; Muslim-catholic interreligious marriage in India

 

 

“I fear for the safety of my step-brother and my father,” said Qatar-based Sara in a trembling tone to her friend speaking at the other end of the telephone line from Mumbai.  She was conveying her terrible news that she had feared for a long time - the elopement of his brother Bashir with his Hindu girl friend Sunita. The dangerous fallouts of the Hindu-Muslim love affairs in the highly volatile communal sensitive city of Mumbai are well documented in the several religious related riots that the city has witnessed in recent years.

If Sara had concerns over the safety of her family in Mumbai , she was perfectly justified in having them.

She had valid reasons for that as the entire locality in which Bashir and his family lived were Muslims while Sunita who lived a few meters away in another pre-dominant Hindu locality. The Hindu locality where burning with fire as the elopement of the Hindu girl with a Muslim boy.  Sara herself went through the cycle of nearly creating a communal riot through her love affair with Christopher Columbkar Vas seven years back.

Her escape route from Mumbai to Dubai was planned to perfection by her husband’s family.

Sara had a huge task to accomplish when she married Christopher Columbkar Vas. Theirs was a mixed religion marriage, a union involving not just union of two individuals from diverse backgrounds, class difference but from two different religions.

English and Hindi language was the unifying common factor. Making their families to accept their union and to bless them in walking and taking the first steps down the aisle was a difficult job which bogged them.

The opposition came not from the girl’s family but from the boy’s side.

A few factors weighted down the mind of the groom family- the age difference between the two of them- 13 years, her Muslim religion, the social status of her family- they were slum dwellers and a few more irritants needed to be set aside. Instead of allowing the tempers to blow hot and cold over their love affair, they took the flight from Mumbai to Dubai and it is in the sin-city that their love bloomed.

Christopher Columbkar Vas was bowled over by the smile of this shy teenage girl everything time  he was returning from church on Sundays. The casual smiles were pushed to the back burner, as the two  starting exchanging notes in Hindi. So they met for their first date.

Christopher Columbkar Vas overlooked the fact that when he kissed her on their first date her protruding front teeth were certainly an irritant and a disturbing factor for him, a person for whom  kissing was a seasonal game, which he had played with many partners over the years. But as he was turning into his late thirties, finding a life partner for him from his Mangalorean Christian community based in Mumbai and Karantaka was a difficult proposition for his family and friends.  His family scanned for good educated girls for him in their community but without success.

So Christopher Columbkar Vas the love affair was a blessing in disguise who had by now given up hopes of getting married.

So every time Sara smiled her face will take one to a scene from an English horror movie. But it was her glowing skin colour and her tender age for which Christopher Columbkar Vas fell for.

But the biggest obstacle for Christopher Columbkar Vas’s family was Sara’s religion.

Majority of the Muslims in India are looked down upon in society, only a few ones have broken and fraught off the dogged system, come out through the poverty which have followed them for generations. Only a minute number of Muslims have reached the upper echelons of Indian society and are enjoying the fruits of its economic growth. Most of the lower lefts over jobs are taken up by the poor Muslims in big cities like Mumbai.

Sara’s family migrated somewhere from Bangladesh and stayed  in a tin-roof structure in Mumbai. As illegal migrants into India, they easily assimilated into the Indian crowds and now into their third generation had by now become legal Indian citizens thanks to the vote bank politics of India.

 

But the tin roof structure in which they lived was constantly at the mercy of the Municipal authorities, like young Slumdog Millionaire actors from Mumbai houses have been razed by the authorities in Mumbai.

Her father was a carpenter and had two wives. An Indian Muslim can have three wives at a time, under the Mohammedan law which is applicable to Indian Muslims while the rest of the Indians can have only one wife at a time.

 

Sara and his two sisters stated along with his other step brother and sisters in a dwelling which they called home.
They grew witnessing constant fights between their mother and their step mother. They were not in agreement in sharing their man Mohammed Mushtaq and sometimes the fight was over sharing the money he brought home at the end of the day.

Poverty and its associated pangs made them wage a battle for survival. Getting a decent education was a mirage. Two of the elder sisters did not complete their elementary school education. But Mumbai which is known as the city of the dream gave them ample opportunities to chase their dreams.

One by one the girls went chasing their dreams; the two elders’ ones went chasing the petro dollars. The first one went to Bahrain the second one followed to Dubai the Sin city. In the City of sin Sara found money in the company of many man. But love and prestige was what is aspired. It was when Viajy came into his life the crystal ball which she had in her hand changed its trajectory.

She was determined to hit the right places and made sure its impact remain for long. Christopher Columbkar Vas was one of her many targets.

Christopher Columbkar Vas’s mother a devout catholic that she was brought up all her children in pious Christian ways and she did want her son to be lured by a Muslim woman. But what made her reluctantly accept her was Sara’s kneeled appeal to her not once but many times.

“ I will take good care of your son now and forever. Do not be worried on that count. I am converting myself to Christianity. I will learn the religion inside out. Christopher Columbkar Vas is also going to help me. I am trying to learn Konkani, so people in the Persian Gulf do not know that I was once a Muslim and from Mumbai. I will be a good obedient and faithful wife now and forever to Christopher Columbkar Vas.”

Five years later, if Sara had escaped from the fury and rage of his Muslim brothers in Mumbai to marry Christopher Columbkar Vas and life in the Sin City, his brother Bashir has no such alternatives. He is torn between his religion and his finance’s Hindu believes.

He knows that he is sitting on a potential time bomb ready to explode. It is a volatile situation for him and all the more is he and his family is vulnerable to the mob fury as they reside tin Mumbai which has seen many a Hindu-Muslim riots. Inter religious marriages between two communities have provided the spark to the communal fires.

Till then Sara remains a worries sister and a daughter. She successfully tamed the ruffled feathers of her Muslim brothers in Mumbai with her marriage to Christopher Columbkar Vas, whether he would be able to do it as and when he gets marries remains to be seen.

But for now the love birds are meeting secretly knowing that love secrets are hard to keep. The day Bashir’s love with a Hindu girl from the neighborhood become were the talk of the  town then the agonies of Bashir and his household would multiply. With the elopement the test has come for Bashir and families the next few days will a testing time for all related with blood ties with Bashir.

 

 

 

 

Sixteen girls Young girls lured with promise of marriage end up murdered

Mahanand Naik is his name. But,  Mah(a)-{great}-anand (joy)  has certainly not brought joy and ecstasy  but instead has brought gloom and miseries  to many families in Goa over the last fifteen years. He has turned to be disgrace to his parents and a source of discomfort to his wife Pooja and their one-and-half-year old girl child. The three-wheel rickshaw driver from the temple town of Ponda in the Indian state of Goa has emerged as one of the notorious serial killer in recent memory, in a state which has never seen a serial killing spree of such proportions.

He has lost track of the names of the young girls, in the age-group of 25 to 35, he had murdered from the period from 1995 to 2008. He has mentioned sixteen of them, when reports last came in, but the head count is increasing.

Mahanand took sheer thrills in conning young girls in his love trap with the false promise of marriage and then killing each of them with the long scarf (dupatta). If Jack the Ripper’s  criminal exploits has had been confined to history in England, Mahanand has given India its own version. He is dubbed as a “Dupatta killer” for strangulating each of the girls with their scarfs.

The coastal state has been rocketed by shock and indignation in the way the forty-year-old went on killing young girls without raising suspicious in the community he lived and also how the  police failed to pin him for the number of murder s he undertook over the last one and half decade.

But Mahaanad proved to be a more than smart killer who outfoxed many a people with his smooth talk. His modus Operandi was the same with each of the girls he has had killed so far. Earn the trust and confidence of the young girls. The first part done, he would  then proceed to make a proposal to marry them.

Having played his role in striking a cupid arrow through the young girls heart he would fix a date ,on which she(the girl to be killed) would be taken to be shown to ‘his parents’.

He was following the Indian tradition, where the nuptial tie of children is approved by the parents or in their absence, by the elder members of the family. The nuptial tie had to be ratified by ‘his parents’. So the girls were requested by him to be dressed in full splendor so as to earn the approval of ‘his parents’.

In a country where wearing gold is both fashionable and a matter of prestige Mahanand asked his ‘prospective wife’ to wear all her gold ornaments to impress ‘ his parents’.

But, instead of the girls being paraded  before ‘his parents’ they ended up being strangulated to death in lonely and deserted places- hillocks, railway tunnels, cashew plantations, small rivulets and water bodies in different parts of Goa.

How Mahanand convinced the girls in taking the route to lonely places instead of his original destination to his house, is a question which will be best answered by him during police investigations which are going on. Police are busy collection every day new pieces of evidence to link him to the numerous  murders, after he was first arrested on a rape charge in April this year.

According to press reports, Naik has been termed as a  calculated killer. He picked each of the girls he sought to murder after thoroughly studying the family background and age-group of the girl. Further police point out that he stripped the dead bodies of the victims of their clothes to make identification difficult.

He would then escape with the gold and money, leaving the bodies to rot in water or push them in the bushes.

Almost all the cases where highly decomposed bodies of the murdered girls were recovered by the police were closed as ‘unnatural death’. Most of the murder cases occurred in and around Ponda police area jurisdiction but some missing reports were lodged in other police stations in Goa. In some cases parents of the missing girls did not lodge police complains over the missing girls as they believed that lodging a report would stigmatize their family.

Elopement with a lover is considered a deplorable and degradable act in Indian society, and the missing girls parents were under the impression that their daughter has eloped with someone.

But some of the parents who lodged their complaints allege that they did not get fair justice at the hand of the police in terms of investigations, as a result he continued his killing spree.

The serial killer would have continued his killing spree had it not been a girl from his own locality, and his wife’s friend, who took the courage to complain to the police over the rape committed by Mahanand.  The blackmailing calls she was continuously  getting from Mahanand over the telephone proved to be his waterloo.

Once called for questioning over the over the rape charges, the murder jigsaw unfolded one by one and is still going on. The killing spree which has shocked the entire country.

People on their part are questioning whether it was part of the system failure on the part of the police or the so called lazy attitude of the police handling the cases which allowed Mahanand to get away with so many murders.

Mahanand on his part has lost track of the names of the girls he became friendly and whom he ultimately murdered, after luring them with the promise of marriage. As police continue their questioning the head count is definitely going to rise as more and families are coming forward to register missing complaints which they had earlier desisted from lodging.

A tornado strikes the Indian city of Margao

Was it love or lust? William had no inkling about it, when the tornado hit him in his college live. William was not the only one from college who had been drawn in the massive tornado that swept the city. Many had been swept away by it, but had been rescued in due time. But the scares were left all over the body and a heart which bled profusely, waiting to be heeled. 

Will William's heart heel and why Maria, the jilted lover of William, turn out to be a woman in serpent clothing's. Or was she really a serpent, as was being made out by the families of her former lovers. 

Did she really play a cruel game, on a god-fearing, loving and cheerful village boy, who came to the city for education. But instead of a degree in education, he would end as one the faceless Casanova of the fast changing city and an unrecognized degree in love -making. 

William, like him many other youths from the city had fallen prey to the lust seeking Maria colleagues, all whom got their tips of the deadly game from her. She derived pleasure from the game that her friends played with teenagers of the city college. Austin, George, Cajie, Royston and many more had lost their virginity to Maria and her friends . 

Was Maria really the serpent, she was made out to be, many doubted it. They had to go by her looks as she had a demeanor of a harmless, ever helpful, cooperative neighbor; none took the accusations heaped on her by her ex lover's family at face value. That was her greater strength in the face of adversity 

Or was she herself a victim of the circumstances. 
Read to find out more…….. 

The weather outside was typical tropical winter day weather, not unusual hot and not cold either. A weather which draws hordes of white skinned foreign tourists to bask in the sun, have a tan, sip bottles and bottles of beer and cheap wine, indulge in frolickers of sun bathing in the nude and snorting on doses of their favoured drugs and dance to the tunes of trance music. 

That was all happening on the 105 kilometres coastline which Mother Nature has blessed the beach side hub of Goa, the western Indian state. 

The city habitants who lived some six kilometers from the hustle and bustle of beach life were not too concerned on what went on the beach and what the foreigners did on the beach. 

That was a different world for them, a western world transported into a developing world. Were one night stands, dancing in the nude, walking or jogging topless on the beach, padeophiles prowling on the beaches, women selling sex on the beach and swingers clubs were all a new phenomena which the beach-side Goa was gearing up with a leap in tourism trade. 

That was the other side of Goa for Maria, a devoted house wife to her husband and mother to Malcolm's children. 

Publicly she would flaunt her sexuality and hiding her eyes behind the big dark glasses she would flaunt at men's muscularity from top to both and especially, if the men belonged to be one of her ex-lover's. She took special pride and pressure in figuring out the changes her men had undergone over the years when he was away form her. 

She oozed in her sex appeal, which made her tantalizing as a kill to beat the boredom. 
In her talks and in her walks she hardly gave the impression that she could hardly be the married woman who could prey on other man. 

But once in the confines of the wall of the double bedroom flat of Maria, the outside weather had no relation. She was in turmoil with her own self and in search of her own identity. A volcano waiting to erupt, the lava awaiting an outlet. 

But then, she had to been within the confines of her social behaviour. 
Maria, over the years even after giving birth to three children had the grace and elegance and the shape which a teenager would fall for. Her luscious lips were the most alluring of all and gave her wheatish complexion a perfect push up. She carried herself well and was apt in carrying a conversation on varied topics. 

But deep inside her she was restless. Her daily chores started from cleaning the rice and than boiling it over the LPG cylinder, preparing vegetable dishes and non-vegetable dishes for her school returning children. 

She had elegantly done the décor of her house imbibing the ideas and keen observations she had made on her numerous foreign junks with her seamen husband. 
The carpet in the sitting room was from Germany, the sofa covers were imported from Macau, and the furniture too was from Macau but sold locally by a dealer who imported it all the way. 

The mosquito net was part of the baggage from Netherlands and the Television set from Japan. The big wall clock which was hanged just over the giant 42 inch TV set was a gift from the captain of the ship and was assembled in Hungary. 

The curtains came from Korea and had furious tigers and lions emerging from them all ready to pounce on you. The window curtains were transparent from inside, but the outside world could not peep into the inside world of Maria house. And it was done with a purpose. 

Maria relished her privacy and no intruder could peep into her house to have a view of her house and her world. 

She had employed Ruksanna, a frail lady in her 50's to help in her house hold work. The amount of stress the widower had witness throughout her life had made her skin sag and her eye balls had retreated more into their sockets adding to her years. 

She lost count on the years she had been doing house hold works in the city. She as a young Muslim bride at 13, made her passage into Goa chasing a dream with her husband from across the western ghats (hills) and was called "ghatti". 

The dreams remained only a distant mirage. Mother to Mustaq's fourteen children, her world was a crumbled one, with the cheap liquor available at every step in Goa piling up her agonies. 

She stayed in a tin house with her children and ever since her husband's death she had to deal with the drunkenness of her seven sons. A house which floated when floods came gushing in with the seasonal rains further tossing upside down her shaky world. 
Snakes sneaking into the house and deadly scorpions finding their way into their belongings was an every day occurrence for Ruksanna. 

And she did house hold chores for a half a dozen house holds in the area. 
Maria's world was also drifting, unlike Ruksanna, she had the economic stability but she was in search of love and attention which a woman craves, a huge void she felt was left vacant in her life, which even after the age of 35 she has not been able to fulfill. 

The lack of attention and non fulfillments of her needs - physical and emotional had crossed the brim. She was in constant conflict with herself and the values that society valued from a married lady with three grown up children. 

And when she was alone pondering over the years gone by fast and thick, she would relive in the thrilling moments she had in the company of her lovers. 

The stolen moments of love and lust she spend in the hotels, the beaches, the water falls, the dams and the journeys they took through the congested roads. The travels were as fresh as the roses which she nurtured and cared on her balcony facing the road below her apartment. 

Everybody wanted to go to bed with her. 

The cold storage owner Piety, the tailor Bernard, the foreign recruiting agent Mahesh all pried on her. They were waiting for a chance to strike a talk with her. The iron rod blowing hot and cold, as and when she visited them to buy some things or some work to be processed. 

But than they were not the men she fancied on, she fancied sweet teens for her dreams. Pick them by the collar and teach them the trade of the tricks. 

William was one of them. Stranded at the Church after the wedding ceremony of his distant relative, and with rains continually pouring and with all his known relatives acquaintances and friends one by one leaving, he was left gazing into the dark sky as he stood waiting for the rains to stop. Giving him company was a middle aged lady who too came for the wedding nuptials. 

William forefathers were Portuguese who had settled in Goa many centuries back and the traits of the European streak ran through him. The light blue suit he wore added to a few more inches and gave his innocent looks an added glamour. The mixture of brown, black moustaches and the goatee beard made him stand out in the small crowd of his friends and relatives wherever he went. 

And this shy introvert nature which drew the stranded lady to strike a conversion with William. 

The night shadows were lengthening the moon had come out and the cloudy skies had cleared but it was still raining. He and the lady did not have raincoats to venture out and face the rains. 

"Baba, where you want to go, I have my scooter, you want to come with me", by that time the rains had decreased in intensity. 

For a moment, William felt awkward to sit pillion rider with a women driving which he had not done over the years. But he himself did not know how to drive either. 

"But I do not know to drive, " said William 

"But are you shy sitting with me on my scooter, retorted Maria. 

"I will teach to you drive, it is not a geared scooter you know to ride a bicycle then no problem. Let's wait for a second". 

She used her dupata to cover her face and pulled another cloth from her silver lined handbag to mask William face. 

Now no one could recognize them with the darkness and the mask which had opening for the mouth and eyes. 

She then demonstrated William how to put the ignition key on and how to get the scooter on way to its journey. 

"Can I sit with my legs apart or do want me to sit on one side, asked Maria who was wearing a red colured Punjabi dress salwar kameex with golden lined silvery embroidery work which signed in the diminishing light." 

"The first position would be better as that will give a balance and for me a first time rider," said William 

The distance to her house was a 20 minute drive in normal non rainy conditions. William the first time driver was slowly and cautiously making his way to his destination and with stories of slip and fall happening on the first rains which hit the city he took extra care and what with an extra baggage at his back. 

He hardly crossed the 40 kilometres limit on the speedometer. 

The rains intensity increased after some five ten minutes drive. 

"Oh it is very cold, William scream as water came running from his fore head and drenched him and went all the way to his crouch. The ice cold water touching his testis made him shiver". 

Maria noticed this do you want me to hold you as that would give you some warmth. 
She slipped her arms around William waist. 

The shivery feeling which William experienced was suddenly gone, the big muscular arms gong around him and the gentle touch of a women suddenly took him to an alleviated feelings, he did not know what to do one he wanted to take of her hands off him but a gush of blood was flowing in all his veins were it was going he has no idea and how it was happening. William was puzzled. The feeling of rush of blood continued instead of a cold feeling warmness had descended on William. 

And with was the first time in his life that he has been hugged tight by a lady. 
He could do any thing he had become a prisoner of the circumstances. 
Maria also felt the rush of blood in her veins too, he had a prize catch and in a weird circumstances and he did not want to leave the catch. 

"You have a soft skin. And you are muscular too," Maria pushing a little deeper and closer to her body felt some of the muscles of William. 

And as they had pushed half way through the journey Maria hand slipped its way from its grip after the scooter lost its balance at one of the numerous pot holes. 
Off it went and on its way felt a hard surface. William was in full fury. Oh what a size and an a half she pondered. 

She remained calm in her response. She retreated her arms from around his hips and instead held them folded before in a lock before her small-sized breasts. But then William was missing on something. 

He requested Maria to have the company of the comforting arms around him to give him the warmth of a human body. 

At the end of the journey, Maria made it appoint to take William to his home and gave him a choice in choosing between a brandy and coffee to get over the shivery feelings. 

"Coffee would be fine with me", he said. 

He than gave him her husband's pant and shirt and asked him to change his clothes, the pant could not fix in and the shirt was twice the size but William had no choice. 

Her husband waist was 50 and the pants would not fit William who was just 30. With the towel draped around his waist he came out to show his shirt to Maria and the lack of pants made Maria blush in a teasing smile. Her imaginations ran wild as without any underwear William was a playful toy which she play with in days to come. 

"You go with this pant and in the middle of your journey they make away and off it goes to show everything to the entire world to see", she screamed. Her screams cold not travel outside as she had made sure she had locked all her doors and windows. 

"I have a solution I will put two safety pins and alter the pant for you in ten minutes time do not worry. If you go in this wet clothes you would end up sick", said Maria showing concerns. 

After alterations in the pant off went William to the bus stand to catch the last bus of the night. It was quite an eventful day for him. Maria waved him good by at her door and it was the first of the many goodbyes she would be making to young William. 

She than ran towards her balcony to see how William's huge buttocks minus the under wear shake in the giant size pant. She took delight in her tailoring work which she had done to make her husband pants fit on William. 

That was the start of things were William was replacing Malcolm in many things which were his but were gifted to William on a platter by Maria. 

William had to return back to pick his suit and on his part he had to return the pant and shirt of Maria's husband. Maria made sure William got her phone number lest he may turn up at her door step and no one will be there to welcome him. 

In deed William came back and came back coming for more and more in search for a thread of friendship which grew with each passing day and with William being exposed to a new alien world and new awakening stirring in him. 

Maria took care to build the friendship brick by brick and not rushing on to things. Enticing William into her den was not easy. She had to be very careful, 

What if he goes to town and pants her as a loose women, if she opens to him very fast that she did not want to do. 

Her plan was evolve around talks of sexual encounters of her neigbours, who beaded with whom, who got what type of sexual diseases, of husbands could not satisfy their wife and which women had lovers and how many of them. 

That was the arousal of the sexual thunder in young William. He was just feeling the sexual desires creeping into him, he just finished his school education and was into elementary higher secondary school. Such talk completed dazzled him. 

Live has been a struggle for Maria not financially but emotionally for the well built hip shaking muscular women. But she had fought ever bit of it and was not ready to take in meekly. She knew how to play her cards and if the situation got worse she knew how to spread her legs for men- men who used to beat around the bush for her work favours - the same men would be damp squid, with a juicy encounter waiting for them to top their work. 

But than, she was no cheap women who will fall for any man. Numerous men proposed to her and came knocking on her door at unearthly hours of the night, some government officers asking for favours, but than she was choosy and picked her man whom she liked and not any one, for whom releasing their sexual energy was the one and foremost thing in mind. 

She plotted and worked her way to win a men's heart whom she wanted to take her bed. 
She was no whore, she would tell her lovers, if love me trust me other wise we part ways with our sexual indulgences and be just friends. And than she valued her respect in the eyes of her children and she did not want to hurt her husband either. 

A typical new generation of liberated women, who fought and got her things from her seamen husband, Malcolm, a husband who spend nine months sailing on board the ship. His ship which sailed different ports of the world. 

And as the saying went around in his village- he was no different from other sailors, -sailors having wife's at every port they go- at every port he made sure the pent up energy was released. Girls who would come crushing in at each of the seamen club which his port touched. 

Some of the girls would give in favors only for the sake of liquor while others were truly professionally. 

And when every time his ship docked and the girls came flocking in he would remember the popular song that a singer back home would sing in his young days. 
And the song went like this- seamen are not be trusted, they invariably do not take pictures of good girls (read moral high acclaimed girls), the girls whom they bring pictures to show home to their friends are girls worth equal to the 500 coconuts husk, (meaning cheap girls). 

But he made sure that his wife also got a dose of the life of a seaman at the sea and life in the western world. A peep into the western world of the free life style - the nude shows, the strip clubs, the one-night stands. 

She also got undue attention from the sexually starved men at sea as being the only women among the thirty odd men. A new sexual revolution was generating in her which she unwittingly did not know where it became and when it all began, by the time she had realized it she had stepped out of the boundaries and it was too late to retract back. 

Her wants her magnified and she was craving for extra bit of it, which she was not findings. Suddenly the act with her husband of eight years was becoming boring; she also realized that the age difference of 12 years was a hindrance to her attaining full Orgasm. 

The Stars were shining in the sky, and she was quietly admiring them, the weather was chilly and the sea was choppy but than watching the stars and passing time was better than staying indoors in the cabin. Then came a knock on the door, she ran to open it thinking her husband had come back to the cabin but instead it was Conrad who came in. 

He is doing overtime and will back in another two hours time. He told me to give you company as you will be feeling bored. 

Conrad a deck engineer, was a polished man, in his late twenties, a six-footer with big moustaches and a muscular frame he has been married two years back and eagerly missed his wife who stayed back home. 

The pangs of separation and the emotional void were waiting to be fulfilled. 
He knew how to make a woman comfortable. In his college days he had dated many girls, he for one knew how to make a woman comfortable and that was half the battle won he would say to himself- his successful mantra. 

At the other end a storm was building up in Maria and a restless mind was troubling her thoughts, thoughts which needed an outlet. 

And what a sigh of relief, that at last she had found a man and a soul to pour out her difficulties and troubles at sea. 

A soothing relief was needed. And Conrad was the one who came armed with a magical wand for her troubles 

That night Maria spelt well but during the day time the poise and elegance of Conrad came to haunt her. She was constantly fighting within her herself I am married lady and have my husband and my children, no I should not be doing it craving, for another man. 

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Married at eighteen mother of three at twenty-six, the flowerily innocence of childhood was snatched away from her at a teenage age. 

Snatched away was she from her lover Angelo. The college romance had flowered enough to go past the hugs and kisses to watching the sunset on the beaches. The warmth of holding the body of Angelo in her arms pushed Maria into a spin, a spin in her head and body. That night she did not sleep, she tossed around on her bed. That was the first night that she could not sleep all her life. But that was the beginning of many sleepless nights. 

The love tree has just started to bloom, she dreamt of the flowers that the tree will bloom with and her dream house will have the flowers adoring as attraction. 
Angelo was four years her elder, and worked for shipbuilding yard. His village house dotted the many houses closed crammed in the small area. 

Houses which were rented to migrant labourers from Karnataka and Orissa. Labourers who worked on the numerous trawlers which came anchoring at the jetty close to his village. 

The labourers came home with abundant fish cash once in a while and Angelo an recipient of their generosity a number of times. 

Angelo had few of his village chums for company most of his school mates had migrated to work on ships or in the gulf- with recommendations from their close friends and relatives. He had no one to fall back on. 

Summer time had just set in and the sun was going down, the fishing village was getting ready for another night. Night when the insects will coming in a herd and dying near the small 60 watt bulb that grandmother Annie would light through out the night to keep the insects away from her bed. 

The mangoes had ripened and Leo was making sure he brought down at least two of them with one stone aim of his. They were Mancurda variety mangoes and Lucy the lady never plucked them. She was too busy traveling from America to Mumbai to Goa. She divided time between her family based in the land of the dollar dreams and the madding city of dreams for Indians. 

Every day Maria would wait sitting near the mango tree hoping that she would take home some and have it after her lunch and dinner. She would end with a catch of eight to ten every day. 

She had just come home from holidays from Karwar as their mother along with the siblings had shifted to the neigbouring state to teach them English medium education over the Portuguese one . 

Maria's father Xavier was fighting a war against the colonial rule of the Portuguese and that meant he made sure that his children would not learn Portuguese. 
She had no inklings of her father militant intentions of over throwing the Portuguese rule, all she aspired for in her carefree time as a teenager enjoying her holidays was collecting mangoes and mangoes. Until Angelo came in and snatched her mangoes. 
That day a chilly wind blew across the village and with a scent of the mud, Maria's grandmother Annie immediately guessed that it had rained somewhere from the scent of the mud and the chilly wind. Indeed it had rained and more rain was in the air. 

Maria stepped out of her house and what she saw was enthralling, the clouds were hovering overhead and the roar of the Arabian sea could be hear. She jumped into her house skipping the four steps, leaping with joy. 

She was sure that gusty winds would follow in the coming hours. And she would be rich with mangoes. 

Angelo had just finished his school education in a catholic school in Mumbai and like all Mumbaikars who used to come to Goa for holidays he too had come to goa for holidays. His parents whilst returning from Goa made sure they stuffed enough of dry fish, mango pickle and Molio to last a year. 

He for one relished his mangoes, one morning Angelo eyes fell on the mangoes that Maria was carrying with her. More than the mangoes as a teenager just entering puberty he tongue licked in nourishment the smaller mangoes that maria carried with her and which were just protruding out of her T-shirt which had tuned wet on account of the rains. 

Angelo could not take his eyes of Maria for a few minutes, until a strong thunder shook him. He was embarrassed that he was shaken by the thunder and more so Maria laughed to his heart content seeing a young man shaken by the sound of the thunder. 
The young man wanted to talk his way to Maria and explain that he was a strong man and not a timid one, one who can be shaken by the thunder. That night he pondered over how to get an opportunity. 

What better opportunity than the mangoes, if he is lucky he will tasting fresh fruits and preparing grounds to taste two more in a few months or years to come. 
The next morning Angelo was early from bed a fact which startled their parents, for a boy who was habitually late in getting up was quick from bed and off for the mango tree. Maria was no where to be there and his eyes were fixed in the direction of the pathway in which she came running to the mango tree. 

She came running but there were not mangoes left there from the overnight fall. She was amazed. How could this happen. She wondered and than all of a sudden Angelo emerged from his hiding and surprised her. The sudden appearance shook her. She did not say anything but smile at him. 

So you are the first one and you want to snatch my mangoes, she said. Your mangoes , your mangoes no one snatch he said with a ting, poor Maria could not understand what he meant. Bust she was sad that she had a competitor for the mangoes falling from the tree. 

That day her catch was only two, the next day none after waiting at the mango tree for eight hours. She was scolded by her parents but still she came back to the tree crestfallen but with the enthusiasm of a teenager. 

She had no one to tell her feelings, the anguish and sadness reflected on her face. It was the time for Angelo to reach her heart and strike the first line of friendship. 
That was some twenty years back. 

She still lived in her two-bedroom flat, but now she was in peace with herself having accomplished a mission of successfully educating her children and having the company of her retired husband beside her. 
But live has come back a full circle for her. 

She had not lost the sex appeal of her 30's and 40's, the appeal which made her a hot commodity, but her body metabolism her undergone a change and with the change, a change in sexual approach. 

Old habits die hard and so was the case with Maria. The glare , the secret admiration 
Was all kicking in the back of her mind but the body was not ready for the action. And then, she had to deal with a new problem in her household - her daughter-in-law. 
It was some fifteen years that Maria had last seen William, the last of her several lover boys. Maria, who had then successfully played the seduction game, luring him into her fold with slow and elegant steps. 

NOTE: THE STORY IS PURELY A FICITICIOUS ACCOUNT AND BEARS NO RESAMBLANCE TO ANY ONE LIVING OR DEAD. 
AUTHOR

Mike and Chrissie: My English neighbours of Goa

Mike and Chrissie Shepherd, a British couple bought a house in Cuncolim in south Goa, decades ago and have made it their second home. Their message to the law makers is that tourists are not a threat to Goa's environment but its the big land sharks..
THE RAINY season is in full flow in the Indian state of Goa. It’s time for many foreigners on long –term visas to retreat back to their native lands to escape the rainy season. Few brave the rainy season and stay back. Mike and Chrissie Shepherd, are one such British tourists who have fallen in love with Goa and have made the tourist-resort state their second home. No wonder they own two homes in Goa. But they too do want to stay in Goa for the rains.
A Google search for Chrissie and Mike leads ones to Sanvorcotto ward in Cuncolim village in south Goa. If there is any chance that you have never heard of the village Cuncolim in Goa tourism related news, you are right; the village has nothing to do with tourism.
The next question that comes to mind is what drew the nature lovers and ornithologists to buy a village house in Cuncolim, inaccessible as it is by car. The Google entry by the couple, who conduct guided tours, answered the query – they like the quiet and relaxed part of Goa.
Every year during the tourism off season from May to October, they remain away from Goa, handing over the keys of the house to 30-year-old Cuncolim-born Lengley Tavares who operates a transport business from Calangute beach in north Goa. Yes, the Tavares and Shepherd families are neighbours in this sleepy village for the last 15 years and have been living in perfect harmony.
Tavares has been entrusted to take care of the house, which remains locked for lack of occupants. Handing over the keys of the house has had been the routine the couple has been flowing for the last 15 years, ever since Tavares has been a child.
The 60 something English couple quietly slipped into the village when no one was unduly concerned about foreigners buying property in Goa. In that way the couple has been lucky that they did not go through the mental agony and sleepless nights that many foreigners are going through for violating Indian property laws.
The house originally belonged to Dr Antonio Tavares, a local resident who had since settled in Nagpur in Maharshatra and when the doctor put out an advertisement, some 20 years back, many Goan families tuned their back in buying the house, as it was inaccessible by car.
Until the Sheperd came in to become ’good shepherds’ of the traditional style tiled-roof Goan house buying it for rupees three lakhs.
The house continues to have no road leading to it, but a pathway allows them to reach their home abode. The couple on their part has made no wholesome changes to the surroundings or to the design of the house.
The pathway continues to be a favourite place for the pigs to their droppings till this date as it has been for the last several decades, but the Shepherd’s Enfield Bullet motorcycle and the three-wheeler rickshaw tuk-tuk sound is enough hint for neighbours that the couple are back at their home.
Beraldine Tavares their neighbour said, "We have no problems with them. Most of the day time they are away, we do not know where. We have not inquired. We see them leaving the house at 10-11 am and then there is the sound of their vehicle coming in late in the night at 11pm. They play no loud music at their home. They contribute funds to the village chapel and are part of the social gathering of the villagers when invited.
They are a model couple, with their dress code confirming to the local culture."
And if the villagers in Sanvorcotto are in the dark where they spend their day, the news is that the couple has another holiday home in Cannagunim, another quieter unspoilt small beach in south Goa close to Betul village. Besides, during the day, the couple conduct their bird seeking expedition for foreign tourists.
And Chrissie and Mike are responsible tourists who care about nature, when, Goa has put a stop to foreigners registering purchase or sale of property, as a result registrars are not registering land deals from foreigners.
Crissie and Mike message to the law makers is that the smaller budget tourists are not the threat to Goa and its environment but the big land sharks who go about destructing the flora and fauna.
But will the government sign to the tune of the smaller budget tourists or the big land sharks. That is a question will be best answered by the pie hungry Goan politicians.

Markus and Anita Rytz the BMW motorcycle couple on world tour

How much money is necessary to be happy? – That was the difficult question which troubled Switzerland-based couple Markus and Anita Rytz all their lives. Their world centered on materialistic things and in their pursuit for the luxuries of life they both suffered burnouts, on account of work-related stress. It is then they decided to change their lifestyles. Frequent road trips from Switzerland to different countries on their BMW motorcycle became quite common.  On August 10 last year they embarked on their ‘around the world trip’ which will take them to different countries and continents. Armstrong Vaz spoke to the couple .

“It is not so important to have all the materialistic things, that’s is what we learnt through our travel in India. Poor people in India may be poor in terms of materialistic possessions but they are rich at heart,” says Marcuz Rytz, who along with his wife Anikta reached Goa as part of their ‘around the world trip’.

The couple set on the road trip on their petrol driven 1200cc, six gear, German made 115 Horse Power, BMW from Luzern Switzerland on August 10 last year and will be on the road for the next four years.

The couple will hip hop from one country to another and from one continent to another in the coming years, and during the course of their travel they have ‘two appointments’ on an otherwise appointment free travel.

“On November 5 next year I will be turning sixty and we will be in Ushuia in Argentina where we will celebrate the birthday. The second appointment is set in Brazil on March 4, 2011, where we taking part in the carnival celebrations in the land of samba in Rio de Janeiro city,” says Markus.

The couple who are armed with the Global positioning  system (GPS), maps and medicines as travel companions sold their house and worked hard and long enough to make the dream trip.

“Travelling to India is every one’s dream and there are many others like us who want to travel to India. But one thing which clearly upset us is the disparity in the entrance fees leveled on foreigners to see place of tourist’s interests.  The foreigners are charged twenty times more than those collected from Indians. Nowhere in the world is such a practice followed.”

But his wife says, the positives from India, where they reached on November last year, have been the great family traditions and the support-system which children can avail of their parents.

“Back home on account of work stress, couples have no time for children and that is reason many marriage end in divorce. In India, you enjoy family support-system when a crisis strikes.”

But driving through the big cities and traffic chaos makes the couple jittery.

On reasons of embarking on the difficult and demanding motorcycle trip the couple said: “We can stop anywhere and everywhere we like. We can stop by the people, talk to the people, smell the nature and feel the pain and sufferings of the people from close quarters. We can get wet when it is raining and also when it is hot, the experiences which we would not be able to get if travel by another mode of transport including a car, which we thing is a cave.”

“On reaching India I felt a free bird, as I discarded my veil which covered my face, which I had wear throughout my travel in Pakistan and Iran. Where we go we try to maintain the local customs and traditions,” Anita said.

Before reaching Iran, the couple who till now had a no breakdown problems with their motorcycle burned rubber on the roads of Italy, Austria, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria and Turkey.

 The former production manager at a steel company Markus had been an avid travel fan since the age of eighteen, but the motorcycle travel bug hit the couple strongly in 1977, starting with a trip from Switzerland to Turkey. What followed were several such trips by the couple to different destinations. The couple holds the record for being the first couple to take the trip from Switzerland to Japan through Serbia in 1994.

From Goa, the couple who enjoy the world-wide support system of BMW customer service will drive to Hampi in neighboring Karnataka.

The road map then takes them to Kashmir, Nepal, Bhutan, Bangladesh and then they fly to Bangkok from Kathmandu.

The travel plans lined up by the couple who are avid sailing fans takes them to South East Asian countries of Thailand, Laos, Vietnam,  Cambodia and Indonesia. The next phase of their travel takes them to Australia continent, East Africa, South Africa, South America, north America and end up their journey in Alaska.

For the Rytz couple making videos of their travel and photography are two passions, both which they upload on their German language travel website www.bcprod.ch and they were more than perfectly happy to keep away from the madding holiday crowd after a long journey from Kovalam Kerala.

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Motorcycle details

Mileage – 21kms per litre

Fuel – petrol

1200cc

Six gears

Made in Germany 2008

Horse power – 115HP

Petrol tank – 38 litres lasting for 700kms

Crumbling village house in India and Cuncolim’s centuries old land issue

Goan houses have been the handiwork of some remarkable artisans. My neighbor late Indunberg Gama, an engineer by profession had a lot of fond memories associated with old ancestral house in Sanvorcotto Cuncolim. He passed away four years back in Mumbai. With his death spelt the death knell for his ancestral house. His children who were born and brought up in Mumbai had no idea how his forefathers had toiled to build the house.

On the death of Gama, the house was not periodically repairer and the house constructed in old traditional style with the aid of lime and sand crumbled under its own weight two years back. And the inevitable happened the debris of the house were cleared and then the children decided to sell the plot to an originally Karwari family settled in Goa for the last twenty years.

Like Edinburg house a number of houses surrounding my house lay unoccupied., with some toying with plans to sell their land and settle elsewhere. Call it migration or work call demands. The bottom line is village houses are being deserted in Goa in villages far away from the beach.

A few prospective owners like Shanti Gama is waiting for buyers. But many a buyers have been turned their back for the lack of motorable road leading to the house.

Shanti’s house is not the only one which lies closed in the vicinity of our house. Former Mumbai corporate  Nolasco Gama is one such house along which till date has not faced the ace. Nolasco and his children having migrated to somewhere in Canada or Australia and it has been ages that the family have visited their old ancestral house.

If some houses remained locked in my vicinity, there are some owners who have still managed to keep their houses a coat of paint and make them dazzling. One such house is that of late Arnuf Fernandes, which has been properly maintained by its owners now based in Portugal. A few metres away the professor Babu Fernandes house has been gifted by his niece to a charitable home. But no one has since moved into the palatial house and call it lack of repairs or any other thing, a portion of the house has crumbled and one is not sure when the entire house will crumble.

If it crumbles then a large part of the history will be lost along with the grandeur and identity the house gave to the small Sanvorcotto ward. The house where many children learnt their first lessons in Portuguese under the professor during the Portuguese rule.

Another palatial house which welcomes you to my ward owned by Rui Fernandes begs for attention. The owners who have settled in Chinchinim occasionally come to collect their revenue from their by now almost sold properties in and around Cuncolim. They have maintained and repairer the house. But will Rui’s sons do it.

One way for the local residents concerned about heritage will be to approach the Tourism Department in a bid to protect the old grandeur of Sanvorcotto.

But if old constructions are crumbling and lie unoccupied, a number of new RCC construction and old ones are being converted into plus one structures. Bang opposite my house local councilor Devendra Dessai has constructed two houses. A few metres away Juliet D”Souza bungalow is getting the  finishing touches, while my class mate and childhood friend teacher Ajay Dessai’s family is converting their roof tile house in a plus one structure.

In all the schemes of things our house and the adjacent house of goldsmith Raikar looks like a dwarf.

To understand Cuncolim’s building spree one has to have a look at the land ownership history of the village. Most of Cuncolim’s land including some parts of Sarzora is shown in the survey books of records as ‘court receiver’. The  ‘court receiver’ came into the pictures owing to the century old dispute between the Sociedade Agricola dos Gauncares de Cuncolim e Veroda and Condado of The Marquis of Fronteira.

In Cuncolim land ownership did not rest in Communiade hands but in Sociedade Agricola dos Gauncares de Cuncolim e Veroda, an association of the original settlers the village.

To look at the land dispute one has to flip through the history books and one comes across interesting facts. This is what I found out.

In 1583, the Cuncolim villagers had to face the fury of the Portuguese for having killed the five priests and five laymen who were forcibly converting the Hindus and also destroying their temples. The Portuguese destroyed orchards in the village and unleashed many atrocities on the local population. More trouble was in store for them.

The village chieftains were invited for talks at a fort in the neighboring village of Assolna, where the church of Assolna stands today. All except one was executed. The one who survived did so by escaping through a toilet to swim across the "River Sal" and fleeing to the neighboring Karwar district, which now forms part of the southern state of Karnataka.

As part of the memory of the murdered village chieftains, Cuncolim as recently as six years ago erected a "chieftains' memorial" thanks to the initiative of Vermissio Coutinho, who took the lead in the building of the memorial. The chieftains' memorial stands close to the martyrs' chapel.

The subsequent execution of the chieftains -- cold-blooded murder -- did not diminish the fighting and valorous qualities of the villagers. If though the Khastriyas of Cuncolim failed to match the superior armed forces of the colonial rulers, who destroyed their orchards and unleashed other atrocities, the villagers continued the struggle through a non-cooperation movement of not paying taxes to the Portuguese.

Centuries later, Mahatma Gandhi would launch a similar movement of not paying taxes to British rulers.

The villages of Cuncolim, Velim, Assolna, Ambleim and Veroda refused to pay taxes on the produce generated from their fields and orchards. As a result, their lands were confiscated and entrusted to the Condado of the Marquis of Fronteira.

The villagers waged a strong struggle but it was through the efforts of the visionary Dr. Rogociano Rebello, a general medical practitioner who studied law, that they got their land back.

He took their case from the Goa law courts established by the Portuguese to the highest court in Portugal. Finally, it bore fruit.

The "martyrdom" and conversion of Cuncolim did not end the exploitation by the vested interests. New ones replaced the older ones and the conversion does not seem to have made a great difference. The later history of Cuncolim-Veroda as Condado of The Marquis of Fronteira since its donation in perpetuity to João da Silva and his descendents in 1585 could be the theme for a long study and it will require access to the records of the House of Fronteira and to many case files in the court (julgado) of Quepem of the comarca of Salcete. There are also records among the Mhamai House Papers at The Xavier Centre of Historical Research pertaining to the administration of the revenues by Narayan Camotim Mhamay as Rendeiro of the Condado frorn 1809 to 1818 or so, writes historian Tetonio De Souza in one of his papers.

 Apparently, the administration of the Condado was more benevolent than that of the Jesuits in the neighbouring Assolna-Velim-Ambelim. But only a more detailed study could establish the truth of the appearances, because even for the short period of the administration of revenues by Narayan Mhamai Kamat one comes across umpteen cases of confiscation of lands and other personal possessions of several village inhabitants who are sued in the court of law as bad debtors to the revenue far-mer. I have come across instances of popular representations against the administration of the Condado, and there are cases of Rendeiros complaining against the abuse of authority and funds by the procurators of the House of Fronteira in Goa. Such complaints seem to be motivated by the rivalry among the candidates for the revenue-farming of the Condado , he adds

The Portuguese chronicler Diogo do Couto describes Cuculi (sic)"The leader of rebellions" and its people as "The worst of all villages of Salcete". The prosperity of this village seems to have been derived from its fertile land that had abundant and fresh waters from rivers descending from the New Conquests and crossing it before they became brackish in the neighbouring villages nearing the coast.  

Surplus agricultural production had enabled this village to develop crafts of a very skilled order. Cuncolim is still known for its skilled metal works. But already in the letters of Afonso de Albuquerque one reads that guns of good quality were manufactured in Cuncolim, and he finds them comparable to those made in Germany.

A century later the viceroy D. Jeronimo d'Azevedo was banning the manufacture of guns in Cuncolim under penalty of four years in the galleys and even gallows! This kind of developed crafts can give us some idea of the economic interests that had developed in Cuncolim when the Jesuits arrived.

The village also had other important economic resources. One of these was its permanent bazar at the end of more than one caravan routes connecting it with the mainland through the Ghats of the Ashthagrahar province. One of these cut through the Donkorpem Ghat and another through the Kundal Ghat, leading to Netarli and Naiquini respectively. Besides these two Ghat passages there was another coming from Dighi Ghat to Veroda via Talvarda. It was frequented by caravans bringing cloths and other provisions.

Cuncolim bazar needs to be considered as an important factor in its socio-economic development. In keeping with the traditional fairs connected with temple and religious festivities, also the bazar economy of Cuncolirn depended upon its temple and religious celebrations. One should analyse against this background the reaction of the dominant class of Cuncolim to the destruction of its temples and to the attempts of  the Jesuits who sought to establish Christianity in Cuncolim and its satellite villages of Assolna, Velim and Ambelim in 1583.

In the present day retired government official Madhukar Dessai  who donned different hats of a freedom fighter, Excise official and also chairperson of Cuncolim Municipal Council is the president of Sociedade Agricola dos Gauncares de Cuncolim e Veroda.  The Sociedade runs an English-medium school, higher secondary school and a college, which is situated opposite the Church run school of Our Lady Of Health.

But is Sociedade Agricola dos Gauncares de Cuncolim e Veroda authorized to execute lease agreements and are prospective buyers who dole lakhs and lakhs of rupees to some agents in respect of property prudent enough. That is a legally debatable issue.  

But then what are the rights and privileges of the apartments and shops owners which have come on the land leased by the Sociadade to the builder. That is another grey area.