That's when the bombshell broke. "It's not about the amount of salary," Raul stated, "it's…"
"You mean I'm not wanted here anymore?" I butted in, in disbelief. "You can take it as something like that," Raul said. I was too shocked to even ask why. Having known Rajan fairly well by now, I instinctively felt his hand in this. Didn't even feel like meeting the others at the office or the Patrao at the shop downstairs. Over the previous several months, I had worked to virtually midwife the Herald and however much I may have been, I did not wish to upset the scene when the baby's umbilical cord was about to go.
I just took the next bus home.
And on that very unpleasant note ended my brief association with a newspaper that over the last 20 years, tottered, steadied and thrived — even if in large measure on the guile and brilliance of one crafty man, Rajan Narayan.
Without doubt, the oHeraldo marked a new chapter in English-language journalism in Goa. A lot of latent young talent found expression. Investigative journalism got its fair image. Above all, the average Goan reader now had a choice, and the inherent benefits of competition. Happily for Goa, the combination at the right time of the Proprietors and of Rajan Narayan and some excellent members in the editorial team, clicked. Despite shoestring budgets and lack of official advertising patronage in the initial years, the newspaper survived, cracked a monopoly in a vital area, and will now shortly enter its 21st year of publication.
I lived and worked in Goa (for myself, of course!) during these 20 years and saw the manner in which this one man notched circulation and endeared himself to the average English-language newspaper reader, especially of the minority community. Rajan, a crafty non-practicing politico, in no time had comprehended the Goan mindset, particularly of the Cristao, as he is fond of referring.
And the brightest star in his horoscope also arrived in good time, in the form of the Konkani official language issue.
While other editors dithered, Rajan lost no time in recognizing the scope of the issue (he had the genuine backing of his Patrao of course) and almost went overboard with his undying love for Konkani, Goa and Cristaos liberally splashed all over the place, for months without end. With a 'sympathy and empathy' never before seen, the Mai Bhas formula worked magic for Rajan — as it did, I must concede in fairness, to a couple of other politicos, some with a degree of merit, like Luizinho (my namesake) and Churchill Alemao. The true heroes, however, have almost been forgotten!
In fairness, again, it must be conceded that to have run a newspaper with all of Herald's infrastructural deficiencies, was no mean feat. There must have been, in the initial stages, a lot of pain and personal sacrifice — but let's also not forget that Rajan was, those days, without the responsibilities of a family and with only a pint of Old Monk for company, and the option to return to Mumbai's drab world of advertising! He slogged, manipulated, and was rewarded with success.
What, however, happened after such undreamt success hit the head sooner than Old Monk did, is a story I must leave best to be told by many a gifted journalist, who worked with Rajan. At least one such is alas no more in our midst — Norman Dantas, son of a former publisher-partner of Goa Today. Rajan marginalized many a gifted Goan journo because he perceived them as threats to his position!