… left his body on 7th April 2013.
Atmo writes: Sw Atit Brian Mendes was born in Goa, India, on 28th April 1963 as the youngest of 11 children, 30 minutes younger than his twin brother Ben. The first six years he was brought up in Tanzania, Africa, where his Goan parents and family lived at the time. When his father retired, the family moved back to their ancestral home in Candolim, Goa, where Brian went to school and joined the local football club.
Brian came to be somewhat of a legend in Goa football sports as an outstanding goalkeeper in the professional league and also played for Goa in the nationals. He loved football all his life and was soon to become a trainer for the youth in Candolim.
Another thing he loved was dancing. At a private party in Feb 1988 Brian and I met and the attraction was instant. We danced the night away and a few weeks later rented a lovely villa together in Candolim, which wasn’t easy those days, as a black local and white ‘foreigner’, but after initial reluctance, his dad helped us get a wonderful place. We lived there together with our little black dog Simba for ten happy years.
I was working in Goa at the time as station manager for the newly started first Condor Charter flight from Europe to Goa to Kathmandu and back, this job being an amazing gift that had been offered out of the blue after visiting Osho in Juhu, Bombay in 1986.
I remember those golden years filled with gratitude every day … riding on my motorbike along green paddy fields and across the river Mandovi ferry to my Panjim office or the airport and riding home into Brian’s arms and a sunset on the beach at Zappa’s in Candolim.
In monsoon and for some special long weekends in the season, we would travel to the ashram in Poona and Brian took sannyas, actually surprised me with it on the day, in 1989. Being a passionate and sexy dancer, Brian was invited by our beloved Amiyo to join her dance classes and groups and later on a dance training, which he was very excited about. Unfortunately management interfered and he wasn’t allowed to assist her, being ‘Indian’ and the training had not been ok’ed for nationals.
Brian then stayed in Goa and took care of his mum who started to need care, while I moved back and forth from Goa to Poona. Meanwhile I had started working as a study tour guide for a posh German company and was touring all over India in the season, supported by beloved Brian. He often made me such a grand welcome after particularly gruesome tours … rose petals on bed … food cooked … always accepting my frequent departures and long weeks of separation with his amazing natural ability to take things as they come.
Twice I left him for good for a long time, for another lover and to follow ‘my spiritual path properly!’ … but I always eventually dared to return … and was always welcomed back to live with him in his house, in his arms.
This season was another of these returns, – a celebration of 25 years of deep trust and friendship and yes, … magical, unexplainable, never ending love … friendliness.
I am immensely grateful to have had these last three months once again together in love in Goa, ‘as if we are 16’, he used to say recently.
Atit Brian naturally knew something about unconditional love. Not from books or travels or teachers, but from an innocent place in his heart.
He was like an anchor in my life and the best teacher I could have wished for, to learn to accept what IS.
On 3rd April 2013 he had a sudden stroke at his home in Candolim whilst caring for his ill twin brother. Brian left his body on 7th April 2013, three weeks short of his 50th birthday.
Fly high, dance for us in the sky, beloved. I love you, Moga
I am deeply touched by Atmo’s words! What a beautiful dance! Love love love!
Lovely remembrance. Fly, fly, fly, beloved Brian!
Ciao Brian, riposa in pace,
Atmo, what a wonderful tribute to my late brother Brian, the baby of our family. It was really nice to read all about him. The love you shared really shows. I know your phone number was prefixed with the word Moga. When I last saw him in November 2011, and when he dropped me off to the airport for my return flight, who knew that would be the last time I’d see him. May his soul rest in peace,