ForeverMissed
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This memorial website was created in memory of our loved one, Joao Da Veiga Coutinho, 97 years old, born on January 28, 1918, and passed away on December 15, 2015. We will remember him forever.
January 28, 2016
January 28, 2016
Images of you sweep through my mind- the radiant love in your eyes when you were listening to Barbara or watching Ravi, or talking about Palm trees, or sitting peacefully by the ocean, the list is endless. The world was a much better place with your energy and wisdom in it.
I loved your laughter, almost a giggle , when something caught your fancy, and the joy and care you gave in shopping, cooking, and nurturing the people around you. I loved the way you spoke - the rhythm, tone, clarity.
My love goes with you on this new journey, whatever that might look like. I hope you knew how much you were loved, cherished, and appreciated in this life. May some of your beauty stay here with us.
January 27, 2016
January 27, 2016
Somehow forty years ago does not seem so long ago-the memories of those days past are as fresh in my mind as this early morning sunrise. I met both John and Barbara in a small community on the Wisconsin River near Lodi Wisconsin. It was during the Catholic Charismatic movement of the late 1970's, and both John and Barbara curiously attended a small gathering I was at. We quickly became friends, and witnesses to our lives journey's. So many memories .... I remember that stormy winter night in Santa Barbara when my daughter Monique Kariasha was born. I was in the hospital, it was raining and thunder too, there was a large window looking out onto a kind of a park area, suddenly there was a tap tap tap on the window, i was nursing Monique when I looked up, and there was Barbara and John soaking wet, and all bundled up, with the biggest smiles one can imagine looking back at us. John became the Godfather to Monique and Barbara her Godmother. How does one distill the important moments of a friendship that spans forty years. I was honored to be one of the witness at their private wedding in the Santa Barbara Court Yard, it was a glorious day. He was my anchor in so many ways ... In the earlier days of our friendship, our dear friend Ramundo Panikar shared with me how John thought of me as his daughter. Although rarely spoken about I too thought of him as a Father, of course when i first met him I called him Father, as he was still a priest at that time, it took me a long time to break that habit. I do miss him dearly. I visited Barbara and John for a week the year before he passed into the great mystery. Time and distance and life commitments made it hard to visit as often as i would have loved to, the truth is there was rarely a week that went by that I did not think about John, and Barbara too. After all he was an anchor in my life, and helped to shape many of my democratic socialist political views. During my last visit although he was suffering greatly with cdiff, I helped to comfort him as best I could. During this time we had some deep theological conversations, finally he agreed I was ready to understand the 'Cloud of Unknowing', ha-Jesuits are funny that way. I shared the beginning of a book I am working on. He was pleased with this-his pleasure naturally was and is an encouragement to me. What can I say about John ... he is the greatest East Indian Chef! And I was a good student! He gave me the gift of embracing my authenticity, and for this as long as I am here upon the sweet Mother Earth I will be grateful. I miss him, and i will continue to call upon him as my anchor into the theological, intellectual, and creative realms, and when even now ... that i may desire the comfort of a Father, i call upon him -- "At the head of all these laws, in and through every particle of matter and force, stands One through whose command the wind blows, the fire burns, the clouds rain, and death stalks upon the earth. And what is His nature? He is everywhere the pure and formless One, the Almighty and the All Merciful. Thou art our Father. Thou art our beloved Friend." Extract from a prayer Swami Vivekananda delivered at the Chicago World's Parliament of Religions September 1893 .... much love to family and friends of Joao ... forever in our hearts, in the waters of the sea and in the stars of the night. aho~
December 29, 2015
December 29, 2015
How lucky were we who knew Joao! I loved that twinkle in his eyes that accompanied his wonderful sense of humor, fabulous conversations enriched by his deep and wide-ranging interests, and especially, his compassionate concern for all. A sweet memory stands out of Joao watching little Ravi, who was fine playing by himself, as long as he had Joao's full attention. If Joao, the scholar, picked up a book, Ravi would fuss. So Joao, the caring dad, put down his book and gave Ravi his full, loving gaze. Our memories of Joao will stay in our hearts forever, reminding us that a good man walked the earth.
December 25, 2015
December 25, 2015
I have no words to describe our beloved uncle Joao because I hardly had any contact with him although I was his eldest nephew which I regret very much. I have heard a lot of good things about him from different people who knew him well. He was a great man who will be missed by most of people who knew him especially his family. May God give him eternal rest. I hope will meet again at the place God has reserved for us.
December 23, 2015
December 23, 2015
There'll never b another U t. João! U were one in a million. A remarkable human being, very caring n compassionate. ..if I were to write what U meant to all of us, I cd write volumes. But all I will say is: U meant the world to all of us.We will miss you dearly. .
.

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January 28, 2016
January 28, 2016
Images of you sweep through my mind- the radiant love in your eyes when you were listening to Barbara or watching Ravi, or talking about Palm trees, or sitting peacefully by the ocean, the list is endless. The world was a much better place with your energy and wisdom in it.
I loved your laughter, almost a giggle , when something caught your fancy, and the joy and care you gave in shopping, cooking, and nurturing the people around you. I loved the way you spoke - the rhythm, tone, clarity.
My love goes with you on this new journey, whatever that might look like. I hope you knew how much you were loved, cherished, and appreciated in this life. May some of your beauty stay here with us.
January 27, 2016
January 27, 2016
Somehow forty years ago does not seem so long ago-the memories of those days past are as fresh in my mind as this early morning sunrise. I met both John and Barbara in a small community on the Wisconsin River near Lodi Wisconsin. It was during the Catholic Charismatic movement of the late 1970's, and both John and Barbara curiously attended a small gathering I was at. We quickly became friends, and witnesses to our lives journey's. So many memories .... I remember that stormy winter night in Santa Barbara when my daughter Monique Kariasha was born. I was in the hospital, it was raining and thunder too, there was a large window looking out onto a kind of a park area, suddenly there was a tap tap tap on the window, i was nursing Monique when I looked up, and there was Barbara and John soaking wet, and all bundled up, with the biggest smiles one can imagine looking back at us. John became the Godfather to Monique and Barbara her Godmother. How does one distill the important moments of a friendship that spans forty years. I was honored to be one of the witness at their private wedding in the Santa Barbara Court Yard, it was a glorious day. He was my anchor in so many ways ... In the earlier days of our friendship, our dear friend Ramundo Panikar shared with me how John thought of me as his daughter. Although rarely spoken about I too thought of him as a Father, of course when i first met him I called him Father, as he was still a priest at that time, it took me a long time to break that habit. I do miss him dearly. I visited Barbara and John for a week the year before he passed into the great mystery. Time and distance and life commitments made it hard to visit as often as i would have loved to, the truth is there was rarely a week that went by that I did not think about John, and Barbara too. After all he was an anchor in my life, and helped to shape many of my democratic socialist political views. During my last visit although he was suffering greatly with cdiff, I helped to comfort him as best I could. During this time we had some deep theological conversations, finally he agreed I was ready to understand the 'Cloud of Unknowing', ha-Jesuits are funny that way. I shared the beginning of a book I am working on. He was pleased with this-his pleasure naturally was and is an encouragement to me. What can I say about John ... he is the greatest East Indian Chef! And I was a good student! He gave me the gift of embracing my authenticity, and for this as long as I am here upon the sweet Mother Earth I will be grateful. I miss him, and i will continue to call upon him as my anchor into the theological, intellectual, and creative realms, and when even now ... that i may desire the comfort of a Father, i call upon him -- "At the head of all these laws, in and through every particle of matter and force, stands One through whose command the wind blows, the fire burns, the clouds rain, and death stalks upon the earth. And what is His nature? He is everywhere the pure and formless One, the Almighty and the All Merciful. Thou art our Father. Thou art our beloved Friend." Extract from a prayer Swami Vivekananda delivered at the Chicago World's Parliament of Religions September 1893 .... much love to family and friends of Joao ... forever in our hearts, in the waters of the sea and in the stars of the night. aho~
Recent stories

January 28, 2018

January 28, 2018

Today is Joao's 100th birthday anniversary. 20 years ago he wrote a book of reflections on being from a Portuguese colony (Goa) in India called A Kind of Absence - Life in the Shadow of History. The themes of what it means to be in the shadow of dominant history have even more resonance today. Ravi Coutinho and I hope to republish his now out of print book in this 100th anniversary year. 
If anyone either here in the US or in India has contacts or experience of the best ways to self publish, please let me know!!
About writing Joao V. Coutinho wrote: "Is there another meaning that must be created by each one out of the chaos of experience. That is why one must write. Not for its own sake or for others, not as therapy but spiritual exercise. To find the proper human posture. To be restored to childhood. To still the inner uproar and eventually achieve silence and with luck perhaps song or laughter." 
Writers, poets, activists, those on the other side of history - may we never lose the passion and search for meaning in our lives or in history.

From Anthony Gomes

December 23, 2015

A Tribute To My First Reader on Goanet Reader (12.22.15)

I was informed through your pages, and just yesterday by a
mutual friend, the poet Ralph Nazareth, of the recent passing
away of João da Veiga Coutinho at the age of 97 years.

          Undoubtedly, the death of a friend, a relative, a
          parent, a husband or wife is saddening and
          overwhelming; however, in João’s case, in his death
          we can amply celebrate his long, productive life
          full of humanity.

João, of Margão, Goa, wore many hats in his lifetime, more
than anyone I have known. He was a priest, a World War II POW
camp translator, foreign correspondent, aid worker,
professor, philosopher, theologian, a great
conversationalist, a published author, husband and father,
and a cook who could create Goan dishes with authenticity. He
is survived by his wife, Barbara W. Weber, and his son Ravi.

I first met João in the early 1970's in the company of his
late brother, Fr. Lucio da Veiga Coutinho -- a friend of mine
and my late wife Marina Flores -- who was then visiting New
York, and who often consulted me regarding his heart
problems. We kept in touch sporadically, and met again when
Fr. Lucio had his coronary bypass surgery in the US.

          Many years later, I was contacted by his publisher,
          the poet Ralph Nazareth, professor of literature,
          and President of Yuganta Press, Stamford,
          Connecticut, who had also been the publisher of my
          first poetry collection, *Visions from Grymes
          Hill*. He kindly requested me to arrange a book
          reading for João's debut non-fiction book entitled
          *A Kind of Absence: Life in the Shadow of History*,
          at my home in Staten Island, New York. I was
          thoroughly pleased and excited to host such a
          celebration for João’s book. It was a wonderful
          affair on a spring afternoon in early June with the
          azaleas, rhododendrons, and roses in full bloom.

The reading was attended by a host of prominent writers, of
Goan and Manglorean origin, including, Dr. Jose Pereira, Dr.
George Coelho, Victor Rangel Ribeiro, the poet and publisher
Ralph Nazareth, and Richard Crasta, to mention but a few.

Although many aspects of João’s  book were controversial,
particularly regarding Goan culture, the book was written in
an essay style and highly provocative, reflective and
meditative, inciting a lively discussion and a sense of
curiosity. Some years later, a Portuguese translation of the
book was published in Portugal by the Fundacão Oriente.

Perhaps the best elements in the book included the theme of
Absence exemplified in the loss of vital connection with the
ancestral land, a recurring theme in today's globalized
world, and importantly, the lack of history of one's own,
since in his view it was the Portuguese who wrote their own
history in the land of Goa: the Colonizer over the Colonized.

In his final essay, Genesis, João writes realistically about
the evolution of Goan culture: "A sense of Goanness appeared.
There emerged a new interest in things Goan, Goan political
and social history as distinct from the exploits of
Portuguese heroes and rulers, in ancient local institutions,
their evolution or erosion, family histories, and biographies
of significant men... a new style of Goan architecture... a
new authentically Goan cuisine, ballroom dancing and the
mandó, an art song and dance which created its own
choreography as well as its lyrics and music." Undoubtedly,
these very elements of Goannness, or culture, outlined above
are at risk of dilution and perhaps even extinction over
time, and should be preserved at all costs.

João lived with his family in Pennsylvania where I once spend
a day with him discussing my novel, and American power and
its effects on the world. Soon thereafter, João, together
with his family settled in the warm and dry climate of New
Mexico, when sometimes we communicated by phone. I personally
owe a debt of gratitude to João since after reading just two
chapters of my novel, *The Sting of Peppercorns*, he brimmed
with excitement encouraging me to complete the book; he was
my first reader. --Anthony Gomes, MD, FACC, FAHA

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