Do the months of the year 2000 march faster than they used to do before the year had dawned, and raised so many fears, which fortunately failed to materialise?

Prophets of doom, however, still forecast catastrophes. The Y2k bug didn't really hurt us much. So now the NASA pundits threaten us with a major "geomagnetic storm", which is expected to hit our planet this month. It seems to occur once in 11 years and when it did on March 13, 1989, the last time, the Hydro-Quebec power system in Canada just collapsed.

This time round, internet communications could be the worst casualty due to the magnetic activity likely to ensue from the storm acoming. Wait and watch and pray we have to do so that March 13, 2000, may pass of as smoothly as did December 31, 1999.

In the meanwhile, we are already in Spring, which is not only the period when Goa is filled with the aroma of the caju and mango blooms but a conduit for the cooler days to turn warmer and hotter and to usher in Goa's most colourful events--Carnival and Shigmo.

The former three-day Carnival has acquired one more day and now begins on a Saturday and lasts till Tuesday, increasing the celebrations by leaps and bounds: colourful float parades in Panjim, Vasco, Margao and Mapusa; Carnival dances of all sorts, competitions, khelltiatr in Salcette, etc.

Unfortunately, the real addition to age-old Carnival is only expense, noise and traffic diversions but hardly any gaiety and fun. After having watched King Momo's pursanv (procession) in Panjim on Saturday and the Mapusa one, it only appeared an annual formality like the Republic Day parade. It was utterly monotonous; the organisers or participants hardly give a damn for bright colours or cheerful countenances nowadays.

Large crowds gathered to watch the Spring spectacle, which failed to produce adequate bounce and vibration in either music or performance. As for the music, it was only one Konkani song--I think, it's a song sung by Remo--blared by the sound system of each and every passing float.

The colours of the outfits worn by most of the groups were almost funeral. Hideous getups like grotesque masks stuck out here and there. Good old Goan fun lacked everywhere. Even the float of the 'celebrated' King Momo was devoid of any glamour or glitter. His crown was hardly noticeable. Was the King a bachelor or a widower? Because there hardly appeared any Queen-like lady among the half-a-dozen persons jostling for a foothold on the tiny platform at the aft of the beggarly decorated boat.

Promos, the order of the day, were strewn all over very loud and gaudy; the logos and banners often came in the way of the otherwise appreciable decor. Of course, it was a rather long route for the dancing groups of boys and girls, to be able to retain their enthusiasm and cheer. But they managed the ordeal of hot sun overhead and heated road underfoot fairly gallantly.

Carnival's gone, Shigmo will be here soon. Till then.

  JOEL D'SOUZA
joeldsouza@satyam.net.in