Angel of Calangute She, Natali Fatunts, born on 26 April 1981, home delivery ca. 100 meters from the Calangute beach in a fisherman family. She was the last of six children (as it was usual in Portuguese Goa), the smallest, never properly ate, was discriminated, couldnt read and write, was beaten, was babysitting children of brothers etc. how she liked to tell. She liked tv and as tiny as she was, she was carrying buckets with water for her neighbors to watch tv in their house. Her people wanted to keep her to watch older ones, nobody hoped she would ever marry, but it was her dream, to be buried not in a white, but in a red dress of a married woman. She wanted to die and when she met me, she was working in a guesthouse to collect enough money to buy a white one. I, Artur Fatunts, born on 10 September 1973, left Germany on 8 June 2005 to Goa, following the voice of Jesus, like i was telling at that time around, feeling myself on a mission, just like Tom Hanks in the Joe vs Volcano. I have been was suffering from depressions and was standing many times on the edge of a roof of a tall building, thinking of jumping down. Once i saw an Angel, who asked me not to jump, but to borrow him my body. For this i would live in the paradise as long as he would make a trip through all the symbols. He told me also that there are only nine symbols and not twelve. The Angel entered my body, opened the map of India and pointed with my finger on the place Goa. I have never heard of this place before, only some couple of hippie stories. Go there - the Angel of Goa is waiting for us there. God brought us - her, 24 years old and me, 32 years old - together in the end of September 2005. Probably both of us were suffering from the borderline syndrome - due to her minority complex (she was tiny, not really fair, unalphabet and too old to marry for the village standards) and traumatic experience (both of us were brokenhearted after a long relationship). It was love from the first sight. I was telling everybody around, that we became one, like one soul in two bodies. For many it was hard to imagine and i couldnt help with an explanation. But the fact is - we decided to marry on the first day we met. The heaviest since 50 years monsoon was over and i discovered the second side of Goa - the sun and the crowds of tourists, but i saw it just as a freaky background of the monument of human love. I settled in this country and let my wife introduce it to me from her childish point of view - i saw it as the main point of view that i needed to feel i was born here, with her. I was not interested in the information of the mass media at all, but only in the trees, animals and insects of the place where she was born and lived all her life. She was a manifestation, an embodiment of Goa, she showed me to respect Goa, i was the only one foreigner who never complained about Goa or Goan people unlike all my friends foreigners. Although she married a foreigner, she would never leave Goa. I cut off all my former contacts and all my former life became a dream. I rejected internet (ppl r either in RL or online - never both) and modern technology (but fork and spoon unlike her for she was eating with a hand). We became isolated and asocial, both not working, but spending my lawyer-sisters money. Going more and more into each other, hypnotizing and suffocating each other with the most intensive love i have ever heard of. We literally submerged into a fairy tale very far from reality. Many people visiting us were asking - so thats how you live? Many were concerned about our future, but we lived only in a moment with no future and no past. Using the example of Van Gogh, i was saying that the greatest artists became rich after their death. It was a game of surrendering to each other, she was proud to do for me everything, what no other wife would do for her husband. She was calling me raja, jana, bokorya, dick. She would go on her knees any time and any place i would tell her. She was my child, was behaving very childish and innocent, many stamped her as mental. Many said she was an angel, all people loved her for her purity. She was looking like a child and when we were marring in Mapusa, someone from the waiting room called police, because they thought a foreigner is about to marry an underage until the marriage registry office workers had to guaranty that they had all the required documents inclusive a court permission. Our everyday life we spent together in the bed or on the sofa on the balcony 24 hours a day, sometimes not going even out on the balcony weeks long. We were holding and hugging each other all day and night, saying to each other i love you, i was born for you, i will die without you. I was so happy, that i was thanking God for every day, for He gave me one more day in the paradise and saying to Him that now He can take my life and i will not get angry because i saw the paradise. She was always sleeping on my shoulder, she couldnt sleep, if I was not in the bed. We could never sleep in fight. Sometimes i was running in the middle of the night out of the house, sitting in bushes (there was more nature on the beach) and coming back after five minutes - she already forgot all the fight, so did i. Sometimes people were finding me in the morning on a mattress on the floor. It meant that we were fighting all night and are still fighting until we hag each other, crying say to each other sorry and sleep. In fight we broke many things - remotes, mobiles, lighters and dresses. I had only pieces of cotton, that i was wrapping around me (nine years i didnt posses socks, underwear and sometimes a T-shirt). We both lived careless, only for the moment, that is why it is not possible to describe it. We risked much, as if there was no tomorrow. Better to live 9 years in paradise, like an eagle and to drink fresh blood, than to live 99 years like a crow and to eat dead meat. She liked to wear a churidar and to listen to konkani music, the orange fish curry rice of her mother and in the last years cigarettes. She liked konkani tiatr and classic Bollywood movies, like Ishq. She was arranging for me every day a bottle of a home made caju fenny. She knew every tree, every bush in the surrounding, she was adding much home made vinegar in in her food. She was collecting sour mango and making from it pickle. She was smoking with me the rests of bidies, found on the flour. We were 100% alive through our love, through each other. We called others dead, shadows, robots or photos. We were laughing about anybody without a partner or with a partner, but without love. People can not surrender to each other anymore, even in India - in the higher layers of society. People prefer to spend their lifes working, never seeing their partner or never having time to find one. One must choose - to have this kind of rocknroll love one can not have a job. Who can afford such a dark and slim mini woman, while everyone wants an white, educated and strong one (and here in Asia a fat one too). She took it all as excuses of loosers without f..., who can not choose, have too many conditions. She would say this kind of people probably has a phimosis. In the first days we met, we have sworn never to divorce and to die together. If two people love each other that much, it is getting a nightmare and an important topic - who will die first, each of us wanted to die first. She didnt let me go alone out of the house for more than an hour, calling me every 5 minutes if i was late. She was saying that she would go mad if i would die first, so was i. One day, unable to imagine her suffering i said that i would wish she would die first, never seeing me dead. Many times a day, when i was sinking in ecstasy, God was asking me not to believe in a perfect pleasure with a human being, for our lifes are too fragile. Think she would die and all paradise would explode like a bubble. But if i would listen i would immediately leave this paradise. So i was answering - i would die with her and God was testifying - truly, you ARE in paradise. Starting from the first month and all the nine years after i was saying to many people that this kind of happiness could not last long. That the time had to come when we had to pay and it came. Some half of a year ago i said to somebody, that number nine was repeating too much in the last months, but i could not understand, what Angel wants to tell me. But only now i understand that those mysterious symbols were years. While our last fights, she was always repeating - i will die after two months, you will cry, you will see! This was making me suspicious - she was always saying when we were fighting, that she will die, then i will cry and beat myself on my head, but she never gave a date. I was scared and a couple of times i gone angry from her repeating and asked why 2 months and not 2 days or 2 years or any other number? She didnt know it herself. And after 2 months Angel of Goa, just like she was saying it, left her earthly body - the body of Natali. June 2014 was the most dry June in the last 50 years. In the night of the 8 June she was coughing and complaining that it is hard to breath. In the day while i was going to celebrate my nine years in Goa i took her to hospital, where i have been told that she had a heavy pneumonia and 10 % chance on survival. I remember saying to her in ambulance car why only nine years? Give me another nine! Both lungs collapsed (bilateral pneumothorax), super-bug (super resistant bacterial infection) and the A.R.D.S. set in. She was connected to a pump for she could not breath on her on. 3 weeks long in the I.C.U. she could neither speak, due to 2 pipes in her throat, nor move. She was fading away, loosing oxygen, her mind and her memory. I could visit her only 2 times a day for 1 hour, but i didnt loose time. I was whispering 3 weeks long in her ear, repeating like a lullaby, like a mantra the same simple things many hundreds of times i love you... You are my life... Small like life... Small-small... Like small bird... Like child... I was born for you... We are one... We lived as one, we die as one. She was fighting for her life until the last second, she didnt want to believe that she can die. Once when i entered the I.C.U., i saw that her monitors were off. When she was alive, she was sleeping like dead and i was always watching if her chest was moving or not. It means - if she is breathing or not, i had this paranoia, it became my habit. I was happy to see this small, doll like woman - with her uncombed hair, like a small animal, a Teddy Bear like animal - alive. So this time i looked at her chest too - it was obviously moving. I took her hand and was standing and looking with a confusion at the monitors. Nobody wanted to say to me a word although the doctors were watching me. Finally one of them came to me and said - she is no more. I looked at her chest - but it was still moving. So i turned and answered to the doctor - I will never believe this. I said it with a very serious, almost threatening voice. Although I already knew it was just the pump, pumping oxygen into her chest. She never smiled in that hospital, only once - on 28 June, with big and wise eyes and the wise smile of a mother. On 29 June 2014 she died with 33 years old. She was buried in the cemetery of St. Alex church in Calangute. Many people told me she is still alive and she became an Angel. She was manifested as Natali, she is an angel of Calangute. She couldnt say a word three weeks before she died, she tried to speak with her lips, but i couldn,t read. We tried to communicate - she was moving her lips like a fish, trying to say something, but i couldnt read. Maybe she wanted to say, we are angels, manifested as people, like she liked to say it before - Natali and me - we are those angels. She was telling me stories of her, being manifested together with me as an unhealthy loving each other couple (probably suffering from borderline syndrome), hundreds of years long in the fishermen villages of Goa. Especially around Calangute (Ice Factory, now known as the Tarkar Brothers). She said she was always manifested as a young local girl, waiting on the Calangute beach for her sailor, roaming with him hand in hand and dieing with him together. And she will always be. I was always a Portuguese sailor, although this earthly body was not Portuguese, but i will always be manifested as a European kind of person, arriving in Goa and meeting my karmic wife, roaming with her hand in hand and dieing together with her. That is the story of a small bird like child-woman, the Angel of the Calangute, who got married to a foreigner hippie. My love, my life.
Posted on: Sat, 02 Aug 2014 13:12:23 +0000
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