It is a luxury to be in Panjim around this time of the year. Five days until Christmas and I recognise the familiar domestic distress across Goan Catholic homes. Many have done exceedingly well. As I walk through the bylanes of Fontainhas, I peep into homes and find sprightly artificial Christmas trees decked with ornaments occupying either corners or balconies. Decorations abound within living rooms as well as out on the street as finishing touches are applied to neighbourhood cribs so they can compete with each other.'

The gold-hewn altars of chapels echo the strains of carols sung by local choirs. It's beginning to look a lot like the coastal Christmas I've known all my life. Except I haven't yet been infected by the yuletide spirit, and I know I won't until I step across the threshold of my parents' home and my father force-feeds me his specials: dodol and guava cheese.