In his seminal essay, Is There an Indian Way of Thinking? (1989), A.K. Ramanujan explores the notion of a culturally distinct mode of thought, emphasizing India’s context-sensitive, pluralistic, and adaptive intellectual traditions. Drawing on Ramanujan’s framework, this article raises a parallel question: Is there a Goan way of thinking? Can the coastal state of Goa, with its unique historical, cultural, and social contexts, be said to possess a distinct cognitive or philosophical style?

By applying Ramanujan’s lens, we can probe whether Goa’s blend of Konkani roots, Portuguese colonial legacy, and globalized modernity shapes a unique way of perceiving and engaging with the world.

Context-Sensitivity and Goan Identity

Ramanujan argues that Indian thought is inherently context-sensitive, governed by specifics of caste, region, and tradition rather than universal principles that are assumed as context-free.. In Goa, this context-sensitivity manifests vividly. Goan identity is a mosaic—Konkani-speaking Hindus, Catholics, and Muslims coexist with a shared yet differentiated cultural ethos.

The Goan Catholic, for instance, might navigate life through a blend of Christian rituals and tran-rituals , such as celebrating Ganesh Chaturthi that builds social harmony . Similarly, the Hindu Goan might incorporate Portuguese-influenced culinary habits, like vindaloo, into their satvik diet.This fluidity suggests a Goan way of thinking that thrives on adaptation and synthesis.

Unlike the rigid caste-based prescriptions Ramanujan cites in the Dharmaśāstras, Goan thought appears to prioritize pragmatic coexistence. The annual zagors of Siolim or the Shigmo parade, where diverse communities participate, reflect a mindset that accommodates difference without demanding homogeneity. Could this be a hallmark of Goan thinking—a context-driven thought that weaves disparate threads into a cohesive cultural fabric without demanding monolithic oneness ?

Plurality and Narrative Diversity

Ramanujan highlights India’s comfort with multiple truths, as seen in the countless retellings of the Ramayana and Mahabharata. Goa, too, is a land of plural narratives. Its history is not a singular story but a confluence of indigenous Konkani traditions, 450 years of Portuguese rule, and post-1961 integration into India. Each community tells its own version of Goa’s past—Hindus might emphasize pre-colonial temple traditions, Catholics might recount stories of Church-centric village life while fishermen along the coast preserve oral tales of the Arabian Sea and farmers and fenni brewers hold to thier skilled bound stories .

This narrative diversity shapes a Goan way of thinking that resists a single, authoritative truth. For example, the veneration of deities like Shantadurga or St. Francis Xavier reflects a shared spiritual impulse expressed through distinct idioms.

Even in literature, Goan writers like Damodar Mauzo (Konkani) and Maria Aurora Couto (English) blend local and global influences, crafting stories that defy a monolithic “Goan” perspective.

This multiplicity suggests a cognitive style that embraces ambiguity and celebrates coexistence over exclusivity. This means Goan way of thinking is not unipolar but a river that carries multu-polar thinking in its flow . Goans are context-.sensitive yet are able rise to embrace plural modes of thinking and being .

Tradition Meets Modernity

Ramanujan notes that Indian thought often reinterprets tradition to suit modern contexts, and Goa exemplifies this dynamic. The state is both a global tourist hub and a repository of ancient traditions. Goans navigate this duality effortlessly—cashew feni distilleries thrive alongside craft breweries, and ancestral bhatkar (landlord) homes are repurposed as boutique stays for digital nomads. This ability to balance heritage with innovation points to a Goan way of thinking that is neither nostalgic nor rootless but creatively adaptive.

Consider the Goan music scene: traditional mandos, dulpods and deknni coexist with jazz and electronic music at festivals like the Goa International Jazz Festival. This fusion mirrors Ramanujan’s observation of Indian thought as a dialogue between old and new, where tradition is not fossilized but reimagined.

The Goan mind, then, might be characterized by its ease with hybridity, crafting a modernity that retains a distinct local flavor. Ramanujan’s discussion of non-dual philosophies like Advaita Vedanta, which reconcile opposites, finds resonance in Goa’s cultural syncretism. Goa’s history of Hindu-Buddhist roots, Islamic influences, and Catholic flourish have fostered a mindset that transcends binary oppositions.

The Narkasur effigy-burning before Diwali, for instance, is a Hindu ritual that Catholics often join, blurring religious boundaries. Similarly, the reverence for sacred spaces cuts across faiths, whether it’s a temple tulsi vrindavan or a roadside cross.This non-dualistic approach suggests a Goan way of thinking that sees no inherent conflict between “self” and “other.” One may also find Buddhist relic in the Goan conciousness that thinks that sovsar ho chear dusacho .

The Goan diaspora, scattered across the Gulf, Canada,, USA and the UK, further embodies this. They carry Goa and Goan-ness while they embrace global citizenship, reconciling Goan roots with cosmopolitan identities. Such inclusivity aligns with Ramanujan’s view of Indian thought as paradox-friendly, capable of holding contradictions in harmony.

Questioning a Singular “Goan” Way yet, as Ramanujan cautions against essentializing Indian thought, we must question whether a singular “Goan way of thinking” exists. Goa is not a monolith—its villages differ from its urban centers, its fishing communities from its mining belts, its Catholics from its Hindus. The elite bhatkar class may prioritize heritage preservation, while young Goans of the younger generation chase tech startups or eco-activism.

Colonial legacies linger differently in Salcete’s Catholic strongholds versus Ponda’s Hindu heartland. Even globalization impacts unevenly—tourism-driven Calangute contrasts with the pastoral quiet of Chinchinim .Moreover, Goa’s “Indianness” complicates the picture. As Ramanujan notes, Indian thought is shaped by cross-cultural encounters, and Goa’s Portuguese past makes it both Indian and distinct.

Goa’s integration into India in 1961 introduced new linguistic (Marathi vs. Konkani) and political tensions, further diversifying its intellectual landscape. Can we, then, speak of a unified Goan way of thinking, or is it more accurate to see Goa as a microcosm of Ramanujan’s pluralistic India—a space where multiple ways of thinking coexist?

Conclusion:

A provisional answer may be sought drawing on A.K. Ramanujan’s insights. we can therfore propose that a Goan way of thinking, is characterized by context-sensitive pragmatism, narrative plurality, adaptive hybridity, and non-dualistic coexistence. It is a mindset that navigates Goa’s layered history and globalized present with ease, embracing diversity without demanding uniformity.

Yet, like Ramanujan’s Indian thought, it resists being pinned down. Goa’s intellectual style is less a fixed essence than a dynamic process, shaped by its beaches, churches, temples, and the ceaseless ebb and flow of the Mandovi and Zuari .The question remains open: Is there truly a Goan way of thinking, or is Goa’s uniqueness its refusal to be defined by one? As Ramanujan might suggest, the answer lies not in a definitive “yes” or “no” but in the vibrant, context-rich conversation the question sparks.