The Goan man is swarthy in complexion, of average height hovering at 5ft 7", almost invariably with a sunken chest sprouting thick hair prematurely greyed by the time he is forty, resting on top of a rounded paunch, taken to be a sign of good health and prosperity. The man without this abundant padding around his stomach is somewhat of a failure in life, considered effete, not capable of siring sons and providing for his family. Given this uneven distribution of flesh and aesthetics, it is ironic that the traditional dress of the Goan man is the kasti, a light cotton triangular loin-cloth of chequered red, covering the genitals and leaving the often emaciated buttocks exposed.

I doubt any anthropologist has carried out intensive research into how the kasti came to be the dress of the Goan in the village. The fact that it is prevalent more in Salcete along the coastal area, evidenced by the common saying "Shastikar Kasticar" may be a clue as to its origin. The item of clothing is similar to tribal wear prevalent in indigenous societies of say Africa, Australia and Americas and so it is not particularly innovative but rather borne out of a marriage of convenience. Its frugality is conducive to occupations such as fishing, hunting and climbing tall, reedy coconut trees, in a frog-like fashion with vertical leaps.

There is however another male attire which is unique to Goa, that being the cabaia, a loose fitting gown similar to the latter-day dish-dash worn by Gulf Arabs or the Persian Qaba. The word itself is almost certainly borrowed by the Portuguese from the Persian word Qaba and transported all the way through to Macau. But the cabaia in Goa predates the arrival of the Portuguese and could well be a lingering, left-over vestige of Muslim rule preceding the Portuguese. In 1589, Dutch merchant Jan Huyghen van Linschoten mentions Brahmins in Goa wearing the cabaia. Jan Huyghen was in the employ of the Portuguese at the time and allegedly stole their nautical maps thus enabling the Dutch to enter the East Indies.

Whatever the origins of this garment in Goa, it survived well into the 20th century and was given a fillip mid-century by Dr Baronio Monteiro of the Economico Social da India Portuguesa. The Portuguese had insisted that in urban centres at least a pant and shirt should to be worn. The Church too had done what it could to bring Goans in line with Western sensibilities. Those who showed up for mass in a kasti for instance were told to stand outside the Church or cover themselves up with a towel. Dr Baronio Monteiro often acted as a foil against such type of indoctrination and decried the unsuitability of donning on thick Western attire in Goa's tropical climate. He urged Goans in the villages to wear the cabaia instead.

Although the cabaia is thought to be the dress of the "girest", the rich, my mother remembers just about everyone in the village wearing it, particularly bakers whilst making their early morning deliveries of fresh bread. Men would wear the kasti at home but would quickly change into the long, loose flowing, and often vertically stripped cabaia if they had to venture outside. When it was finally relegated to the dark corners of the Goan cupboard, it was replaced for a while by the bakers with a culottes-type pant which ended just below the knees.