Preserve this piece of Goan heritage before it's too late

Built structures have always been man's love language. Bricks and cement of these structures that remain neglected serve as reminders of the toil and love that have gone into the making of these marvels, some of which have been held close to the heart by those who know their intrinsic value.

Stepping into the Adil Shah palace in Goa some time ago, I could only imagine what a landmark this monument had been over the years. Taking in the cool breeze, along the gently flowing River Mandovi, right at the heart of Panjim, the palace has seen it all.

Picture Goa in the simpler times. Her endless stretches and empty corners around every bend. And then, slowly watching her accept modernity with cramped spaces, docked casinos, humongous hoardings and endless traffic, in the years melting away the structure has stood testament to all this, and more.

Change is an inevitable part of life, whether we are talking about human beings or structures. The palace too has changed within.

Once a fort held by Muslim rulers, the structure like rest of Goa invaded by the Portuguese then went on to shelter the viceroys, governors and other eminent personalities under its care. Later, when Goa got liberated it also served as the Secretariat and Goa’s Legislative Assembly.

I bet the walls of the palace eavesdropped on military secrets and cracked a bit at the resounding laughter at gatherings. Third-wheeled as love unfolded near its stairway and stood neutral as battles created victors and defeaters, the structure may have even watched Goa simmer for change time and again.

Yet today, entering the edifice that’s a venue for exhibitions of the Goa Directorate of Museums among other things, you notice a different kind of change, one that follows you like a wave of sadness.

Inviting locals and tourists to dive into Goa’s historical past, an exhibition that’s divided into four categories offers useful insights into the State’s rich heritage. With rock cravings, Portuguese influence and other displays, there’s every attempt made to preserve the past.

Yet, just a few steps made me realise there’s a collective failure to honour history.

Goa’s architecture embodies a tapestry of influences. Each structure intricately crafted is reflective of its time.

Built decades ago, some of these well-planned structures although exposed to difficult conditions have still ended up being more durable than some recent constructions.

Once bustling with energy, today, the Adil Shah Palace seems to be overshadowed by the allure of modern development. With its weathered wood surrendering to Goa’s torrential rain, the structure stands shrouded in dampness and speaks of decay.

Back then a sturdy railing today remains twisted and lose, offering no protection at all. The peeling paint and moss creeping hungrily across its walls, a once-proud structure seems succumbing to time and neglect.

It is, but a given that maintenance and survival of any heritage structure depend on financial assistance. But more than that, these ancient structures such as the Adil Shah Palace, an invaluable asset that’s so rooted to our culture, require a shared awareness and an intention to preserve.

It amazes me even how a building can simply shape our lives so silently ---the staircase we walk up every day to our room, the window that lets us watch seasons change and the walls that hold our memories—their obvious impact felt only when they crumble. No wonder, many believe death makes us understand true value.

But before a structure like the Adil Shah Palace ends up there, we need to realise these aren’t just bricks that were meticulously stacked one on another. It was somewhere a promise to the generations to come about honouring stories, imparting lessons and creating an identity.

Maybe it’s time to remember the words of Charles Osgood, “It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have done.” When we all have the power to act, we don’t need to wait for someone else to step up.