Opening Doorz
“Celebrating Life”
By Martin D’Souza | Opening Doorz Editorial | December 07, 2025 A Birthday That Brings Back a Memory Today, as Fr. Blany Pinto celebrates his birthday, my mind does not […]
By Martin D’Souza | Opening Doorz Editorial | December 07, 2025
Today, as Fr. Blany Pinto celebrates his birthday, my mind does not go to cake, candles, or milestones. It goes, instead, to a memory so vivid that even time has not managed to blur it. It is the image of a 14-year-old Blany etched permanently into my mind: carefree, lost in rhythm, dancing as if the whole world had disappeared.
This was the first Sunday as a boarder in Don Bosco Lonavala. The Prefect of Studies’ office housed the music system connected to all the Study Halls, and on Sundays, the PNC boys were in charge of the music. But that particular afternoon (unlike the usual Boney M and ABBA routines), something else took over. Music blasted from the speakers in Fr. Adolf Furtado’s office, and a few of us lingered outside, curious.
And then it happened. Blany suddenly broke into a dance. A solo performance. He simply flew with the rhythm… Pop, Rock, Disco, Bhangra, Reggae… it wouldn’t have mattered. The steps stayed effortless, free-flowing, natural, as if joy had taken human form. He moved in sheer delight, unaware of his spectators.
And standing there, laughing with complete abandon, was Fr. Adolf, an image that sits right next to Blany’s in my memory. To this day, whenever I meet Fr. Blany or Fr. Adolf, those two frozen moments play instantly in my mind.
Blany and I met around 1979–80, both of us “angels” of Fr. Oscar Misquitta, whose card tricks and soft magician’s balls were his bait for fishing future priests. God bless his soul. He roamed the streets of Bombay doing the Lord’s work. He fished well. He netted Blany. I drifted away.
From our original batch, Blany is the only Salesian Priest today. Jude Murzello became a Diocesan Priest. Edwin Colaco, after years with the Salesians, migrated to New Zealand. And Darryl D’Souza (Blany’s closest companion) eventually left the Salesian path and now lives somewhere in Canada with his family.
I confess, I never understood the depth Blany carried as a priest and preacher. I never recognised his intensity. Until one Sunday in November 2020. Along with our classmates, Osbert D’Souza and Allan Mendez’s family, we attended the Eucharist at Lonavala. The Gospel was about the talents entrusted to each servant. And to say I was submerged by his preaching would be an understatement. He broke the Word with such clarity, insight, and power that we sat in awe.
After Mass, I walked up to him and said, “Fr., I’ve always known you as a classmate. I never knew this intense side of you as a priest.”
He smiled, humbled, grounded, the same boy we knew.
As the current Rector of Don Bosco Lonavala, I’ve watched his devotion to the priesthood. He is completely with the boys; patient, attentive, committed. He treads softly, sowing quietly and consistently, trusting that “I’ll sow… God will water.” He gives every child a chance, holds every stubborn hand, and guides every restless spirit. In an era of overwhelming distraction and shifting behaviours, he (along with his confreres) navigates the boys with cautious love.
As a friend, he is cool and calm-headed. Anil Noronha, his friend for over five decades, describes him best: “He has amazing listening skills and is very patient. He sings very well. He loves to sing old Hindi songs of Kishore Kumar and Mohammed Rafi and plays the guitar beautifully.”
That guitar bit surprised me, because back when he dazzled us with dance, musical instruments never interested him.
Blany comes from a God-fearing family, raised with deep values by his mother. He lost his father at a young age. He shares a close, affectionate bond with his younger siblings, Lynette and Danny. And he continues to cherish, honour, and remember those elders who helped shape his life.
“I have never heard him raise his voice or shout. He is very empathetic,” Anil adds, echoing a truth all of us recognise.
So today, on his birthday, when many will celebrate Fr. Blany, the priest, the Rector, the preacher, the guide, my heart chooses to celebrate something more fundamental: the boy who danced.
The one who moved with unfiltered joy. The one who could make even a silent corridor burst into life. The one whose rhythm came not from music, but from the happiness within.
Because when you think about it, that 14-year-old who danced as if the world wasn’t watching… never really stopped dancing. He just changed the stage. He moved from the courtyard of Don Bosco Lonavala to the Vineyard of God. Instead of steps, he now leads lives.
Happy Birthday, Fr. Blany. Keep dancing. Keep sowing. Keep moving to the rhythm God plays through you.
Also Read: Olympio D’Mello: A Journey of Faith, Family, and Fulfillment
Also Read: A Saint Among Us: Remembering Fr. Lino Lopes
Beautifully expressed
Witnessed his piety and prayer life. But not his dancing. God bless you both.