Thursday, 20 April 2023

RIDES AND FALLS - MY CLOSE ENCOUNTERS WITH THE TARMAC TURF




Another scintillating encounter with Life  (or death). Being invited by the government to attend the meeting on ASAP, the prestigious skill training programme, I made use of it as a guise to be in Trivandrim 'on duty' to transact several other pending businesses. 

Though my plan was to go by motorbike itself, I missed the alarm, got up late, and got ready only by 6.45 and found no other way but go non-stop to be decently present for the meeting. Managed to cover 200 kms in 4 hours, the remaining 8 to 10 kms took more time.  However, a stop over, change of dress, all those put together, I was at the meeting by their tea break, say around 11 am. 


After sitting through the meeting and getting acquainted with the participant colleges, managed to get away and began to go around businesses with various offices. A joint Secretary was benevolent enough to accompany me on the motorbike to some of the offices - thanks to the personal rapport developed over the years.  To agricultural minister's office, Directorate of Collegiate Education, Higher Education department, Science and Technology for CRZ clearance, To Pattom Kudumbasree directorate to meet the Director... Rather thrilled to have accomplished so many meetings in one go... Bit enthused.  Had a song on my lips... thought of treating myself well at Kollam or so... perhaps watch a movie and then go on... Started off bravely around 7.15 pm.  Slow progress - but didn't bother.  It was all going fine.  Then, something like the milkmaid's dream - a sudden flash from the opposite direction, encroaching into my side, perhaps, quick application of brake... I lose balance, and lo, I fall down... I am moving with bike on me... I can vaguely recall, head hitting the ground, but not so bad... smiling that I am not able to get up, on account of the weight of bike on me... Though it's a lonely area, there is no 'dearth of people of good will'... they come, a young man lifts the bike.  I am helped to, or on my own,  stand up - there is pain! Was that excruciating.... I don't know.  

However, I really felt pain.  But I sensed that no bone was broken - as previous experience with a fracture tells me that it is kind of unbearable pain, and you will not be able to manage to do something else without redressing that.   The small, goodly crowd that gathered wanted to help, take me to hospital... but to me, it all seemed a big line of nuisance - hospital, the formalities, the medicines, then the bike etc. I checked if the bike would start.  And it did.  Apparently, no visible damage other than the scratches on the headlight from 3 previous falls, got deepened into gashes now; and the crash guard on the left side, got almost crushed inside.  But that was okay.  Light was steady, no mirror broken.  something was dangling from my dress - Oh it was mobile phone with the earphone.   - apparently unscratched (with only the already existing scratches).  They advised me to go to the government hospital at Paripally, 3 kms away.  Somebody would lead etc..  As pain was persistent, a thought occurred to me to call up the monastery, ask someone to come by car and ease me.   But then the thought that someone will have to take the bike and at least, two, if not three, would have to be disturbed... I thought, I will try out.  Still a fear of brain injury sustained.  Stories of accident victims walking bravely, and then collapsing to death, came across.  I felt kind of nauseated - the taste of queer mix of the peanuts eaten and the lemon tea drunk, now started creating a vomitting sensation, though not so strong.  However, once seated on the bike, I felt less pain on the legs.  Shoulder and neck were hurting.  I was finding it stressful to keep the neck free, and something had definitely happened to it. From the joints of the vertebrae of the neck region the kind of sensation of cracking the knuckles was emerging repeatedly, which was a consolation; however, the strain did not abate. In between, there was a strange sensation - as if lightning (minnal) was going through my left knee.  (This has not stopped even today).  

 

After almost twenty kilometers of ride, I pulled up, and with faltering steps went to a medical store and got a spray.  I requested their help to get it sprayed, especially at the neck.  They were helpful, (without asking for it, gave a Rs. 5.00 reduction on the MRP of the spray!) and were a little alarmed by the blood oozing from my hands, from the scratches.  There was a fairly deep gash in the left palm. The advice was to go to the government Hospital or to Kottiyam Hospital, which was just 3 kms away. I did have an impulse to go to Kottiyam hospital and get some relief.  But when the turn to Kottiyam arrived, I didn't feel like stopping went ahead, slow - steady 50 to 60 kms per hour.  

 

On nearing Alappuzha, I was further tempted to rest and relax and get some human consolation - There was our Punnapra monastery (long time since I had visited it), there was Palackappilly Babichan near Semetheri Bridge (Savakkotta Palam), there was Niya's home near the bus stand.  Niya's place would give the best publicity, without having to write all this.  Ideally, we should stick to the monastery.  Or to continue with the bravado, I should go on to Thevara.  Finally, as the gate of Punnapra institutions was sighted, I stopped over.  Told the guard the need to go to monastery.  He was initially hesitant - past 11 pm, strange looks, on a motor bike, a priest - rare chance.  However, when I told him the names of a few fathers and my being the Principal of SH, it clicked with him, and he opened the gate.  

 

I found it difficult to locate the monastery in the drastically transformed campus with new engineering college and international school etc.  Then the watchman sensed something amiss, came looking for me, and in a tone of reprieve (still sounding not very convinced of my credentials), indicated the monastery sign board. - the same old monastery, only that some refined furnishings have come up - tiles etc. All were in their rooms - The one available was Fr. Siji, junior to me, and we didn't know each other.  However, on my introduction, he extended the expected CMI hospitality, gave me room, asked me to have food, instructed me to have a hot water bath, and insisted that I be taken to the medical college near by.  The watchman, Sharma, a Nepali and known to our watchman Sharma, also became very pro-active and insisted that I go to the hospital, rest and go in the morning.  

 

I complied with only the hot water bath part of the suggestions. Perhaps, for the first time, while being in India, I made use of the geyser and got some hot water for a bath.  Water on the wounds on both legs, knees, and both hands, was not soothing, but rather causing the sensation of chilly powder being applied on wounds.  However, I managed to have a quick bath, which appeared to have comforted me. Got back into the dress, and put on the raincoat in addition to the jacket.  It was kind of chilly. When I insisted on departing, as mature adults, they did not object. And I was on the road.  

 

I was finding it a struggle to pull the clutch, as the left wrist was hurting rather badly. I manoeuvered it with my right hand, adding to the risk.  But the road being now less busy it was okay. In spite of that, gave a lift to 3 guys on the way.  Finally, was back around 1.15 am at the monastery. That means, instead of the typical 4 to 4 and a half hours, 6 hours.  But that was quite okay. The next day, thanks to my reporting and sharing with the students when I met them as a group.  My fear was that something regarding brain injury might emerge.  On being threatened with the likelihood of Tetanus (Dr. Moolayil was authoritatively describing how I would have none to carry the casket. Boy, I didn't want that - Not that I was bothered about having no people to carry the pallet; rather, I was so keen to donate my body for future experiments or medical learning, and I didn't want that not to happen, just because I did not take an anti-tetanus shot!) I called up Dr. Rosamma (our good old, Dr. Rosamma Vincent Njavally, who has been there from my childhood times) and got a shot of anti-tetanus vaccine - TT? It had to be taken within 24 hours, and it was not yet 24 hours. (Dr. Rosamma refused to be paid, but on insistence, assured that it would be given in the composite bill to the monastery.  I reminded Fr. Prior regarding this, and he assured me that payment will be made during the Easter feast.)  I plan to do the whole course - next shot after 6 weeks, and a third one after six months, which is said to cover one for 5 years!! Bindaaz!  Implies that I am determined to get injured again? Not really, but in all likelihood, it would happen.

The nurse, in addition, also did some cleaning of the bruises and applied 'murivenna' on them! I was a bit surprised, but had no objection.  Refused dressing, and the prescription of any analgesic.  Till now, my experience is that wounds get healed, rather quickly and without any medication.  Hope that the status would prevail.  That also means, no diabetes!! May God sustain me like that! I had become much better off, so that from the hurtful movement and difficulty in climbing down the steps in the morning, I was feeling okay to walk around and bicycled to her clinic and back.

 

The very next day, that is, yesterday, I rode my sports cycle up to Ayyappankavu for attending a meeting on wet land conservation.  I had no great difficulty with that, in spite of the sun (scorching for many).   However, at night I got panicked.  I slept around 11.30 pm.  And at sharp 1200, there was some rumbling in my right  ear, followed by excruciating pain - the kind of pain that I suffer sometimes during flights (esp. the ones to Delhi, more so with indigo).  The sound was that of some foam or liquid moving in the ear.  I feared whether some insect - a cockroach or ant had entered the ear - which means, likely to enter the brain!! (Aside: My rooms are generally infested with ants - as they merrily feed on the tid-bits that lie around after my consuming some sweets or peanuts, that come by may once a while.  But we used to have a real understanding not to disturb each other.  Even when I lie down, they go their way, without harming me, focusing on their job.  But things could change!) Or was the impact of the fall?  Pain didn't get abated and the rumbling sound also persisted.  It was a first time experience. I thought of waking up someone and going to a hospital...  However, did some twists and turns, and exercising the jaws - opening wide... The sound seemed to stop.  And the pain also ceased.  Feared whether I could get sleep again.  Then I thought I would sit up and read, and see if there was need to go to hospital. I felt it was safer to do so, as it was a matter of hearing and brain etc... All the same, I lay down, rather awake.  But in no time dozed off again, only to wake up in the morning around 5.30.  

 

So that was my tryst with the fifth of bike related encounters.  First one - a fall from the show room as I purchased a new bike (Bajaj KB 100) and got out, the fall was some 6 feet down, resulting in a deep cut on the palm - but the bike still in tact; the second enroute Bangalore, at Coimbatore at night, hitting behind a container truck lying on road, with no reflectors behind, that was again ok. I could get up, in spite of  hurting my wrist and palm, could reach my destination as planned. The third was a minor skidding near Jawahar Lal Nehru stadium at the turn, on account of loose sand and gravel there, only scratches on the headlight; the fourth was a narrow escape, en route to Kothamangalam after Kolenchery, when in the rain during night time, a car overtaking us, hit us while it got to the left-hand side after overtaking.  There was severe injury to my shoulder and knees, but still managed without hospital and medication, and completed the trip. And this was the fifth in the series.  I am grateful - that no bone is broken, that I could complete the trip, that I didn't have to take rest till now, that the bike is still okay - though the crash guard (rod) near the left pedal is broken and I am still alive.  

 

All this appear still fine, when compared with the gusti (khushti - hindi) I have to do with the small group of rebellious students who are bent on creating some nuisance on a daily basis.  That is something like the Our Father, it is becoming part of the daily bread!! O Lord, deliver us from evil! Amen! The other lesson is that bike is a jolly good fellow - a real toughie, and if you have health to manage it, the best bet for travel in this terrain. I love that.  The Honda Unicorn I use now, has completed almost 73000 kms. If I could complete 100000, now, I am not averse to having a good bullet, and as soon as I am relieved of this job, to go around the country for a long exploratory trip! By the way, if there is a sponsor for the new bike - WELCOME!!

Tuesday, 18 April 2023

HERITAGE CHANGES

Heritage changes! Never thought thus.  But indeed it does. You and me, are all part of building heritage - some very perceptible, some, very subtle, some positively impactful, some, even though unwitting, negative. 

On this day, the first agenda is to get to know our heritage - as a family member, as a member of a community (faith, linguistic, regional), as someone belonging to a particular nation, and as a planeter - a global citizen, proud of the whole planet with its unique diversities as our heritage.  This is an unending and life-long exploration and celebration.  You get to know just one bit of it, every time. 

The second agenda on cards would be, if possible to experience any one of them - especially heritage monuments or sites. In my all India ride, I was blessed with many such - of which my visit to the ancient universities of Nalanda and Vikramshila and the ancient Indus valley site of Dholavira in Gujarat.  Just being there and sinking into the heritage of the nation was a great experience.  Wanted to spend more time there, but could not.  I regret that Bamian Buddhas, the great world heritage, are no more - even if I visit Afghanistan, they can't be seen. I also regret Babri Masjid, the vandalistic demolition of which we all witnessed live on TV.  These are instances when religions and cultural fundamentalism tend to miss the value of heritage, and tend to promote extremism rather than accommodation and tolerance for furthering peace.  

The third agenda for heritage day is to reflect on what heritage we build and leave for the posterity.  At Rajagiri, I would love to see the alumni looking back and recalling with pride, thanks to Rajagiri heritage (i) we do things in time, (ii) we keep ourselves fit, (iii) we don't generate waste, or at least, definitely, manage it and (iv) we care for the planet as our common home.  If this can be enusred, I think, we are doing a very meaningful work, we are on a very meaningful mission. 

Yes, we become heritage builders! 

Qatar Heritage

Living in Qatar, I look at this pheonomenon with real wonder. What transition in culture - what was the heritage of Qatar - fishing and pearl harvesting, a very close-to-nature kind of heritage, is now a matter of history and museuems.  The modern Qatar, at least from my survey of the past one year, has this only in its memory.  I don't know how far the Qataris cherish this heritage. What they are leaving is the heritage of a modern, urban, petro-based, prosperity tinged heritage; to which, of late, a deliberate effort to add sustainability is observed. Will the next generation have sustainability as a hall mark of its heritage?  I do not know. 

I was happy to read in the newspaper that Qatar's contributions by the file 'The Palm...Knowledge, Skils, Traditions and Practices' has been added to the UNESCO list of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.  <https://www.gulf-times.com/article/659619/qatar/qatar-awarded-certificate-on-date-palm-file> April 19, 2023. 

The term used for the great seers in Jain tradition is 'teerthankaraas'.  It literally means 'bridge builders'.  Every human is called to be a teerthankara by building bridges between the generations, by conserving the heritage and by transforming it through one's meaningful additions. 


Friday, 7 April 2023

MAUNDY THURSDAY - PASSOVER FROM RITES TO RIGHTING RELIGIOUS PRIORITIES


MAUNDY THURSDAY - PASSOVER FROM RITES TO RIGHTING RELIGIOUS PRIORITIES

J. Prasant CMI

We, Keralite Christians, refer to Maundy Thursday, as pesaha.  It is an indigenized  (Malayalam) version of the Syriac/Aramaic term peshai, which means Passover. I got curious about the 'maundy' of Maundy Thursday.  So I look up, and figure out that it is from the old French word 'mande', in turn from Latin 'mandatum' which means 'mandate' - So most likely referring to the new mandate Jesus gave on the last pass over night he celebrated with his first band of messenger disciples (Jn 13:34). 

Catholics - perhaps, other Christian denominations as well - celebrate the establishment of the sacrament of the eucharist, of the sacrament and institution of priesthood, Jesus' pass over from this life to the eternal and glorious one through the path of suffering and death. 

On this maundy Thursday, to me, the issue of assuring that there is no one forced to go hungry is the fulfilment of the Jesus-mandate.

Though not all the hungry are bothered about ‘bread’ as such, bread is symbolic of what satisfies hunger – be it rice, banana, casava or yam.  Bread is symbolic of all that.  Perhaps, the twin influence of the Christian and English literature has served to make this a universal symbol.

While we happily remember Jesus’ last supper where his symbolic act of sharing the bread among his disciples (Jn 13) had taken a sacramental significance, I regret that the aspect of fellowship of the meal, of eating together around or without a table, and the feel of being one among the others - equal, is an aspect the Christian celebrations appear to be missing out, perhaps, need to reinvent.  Some stray instances of such fellowship meal on rare occasions are observed to have been initiated.  Even otherwise, I see Jesus’ life on the whole, as a life where bread had been a major theme across its various junctures.

To begin with he was born in Bethlehem, which literally meant ‘house of bread’.  The next specific mention about bread is by Jesus himself, as he sets on his great mission of announcing the good news.  The preparatory abstinence from bread culminates in a temptation to go beyond the human limits to obtain bread.  He transcends that with the power of the word of God – reaffirming human existence beyond the physical life and its sustenance “for man does not live by bread alone” (Lk 4:4; Dt 8:3).  Jesus’ first public appearance is again on a bread-scene, though not a typical one, where the hosts of a marriage feast were in jitters.  And Jesus goes beyond the ordinary plane to ensure abundance of wine, something as important as bread for a typical marriage feast (Jn 2:1-10).

We see him having compassion on the multitude that follows him, as he feels bad that they did not have food, and hence, hungry.  Again, an act of the divine is seen, with the bread being multiplied, and there is enough for everyone, and more! At times, the act is said to be not exactly multiplication of bread, but increasing the horizons of the heart, where everyone who possesses resources is inspired to share that there is enough for everyone.  A lesson that says resources are for everyone, and not for those so-called owners (Jn 6:1-13). 

We also find a very strange Jesus, quite unlike him, whose words like a curse – produce direct effects – a fig tree showing signs of fruit (food) bearing, is without the same, and Jesus’ exclamatory remark leads to the destruction of the fig tree. As a follower of Jesus, I find the incident not digestible, still I read Jesus’ concern that there be no pretensions as far as the responsibility of food production is concerned (Mk 11:12-14).  He would prefer the claims of being productive are fulfilled without fail; and no doubt, he also  insists on everyone capable, to be productive and contributing to the common good; to the common pool of resources within one’s limit (Lk 19:11-27; SDG 12 Responsible Production).

I am struck with the common sense approach of the great Son of God.  He raises up the young girl, thought to be dead.  The first thing he says is that she be fed, for she might be hungry (Lk 8:55).  What a common-sense care! I had acquired the skill of going around without necessarily having the customary meals, and I gloated over that ability.  And when, on rare occasions, other ‘ordinary human beings’ used to regular meals accompanied me, I never bothered to make sure that they were fed in time. But having had some such promptings from some wise seniors, I learnt the lesson to be solicitous in their regard.

It is at a festive meal that Jesus declares his unique mandate, sets a radical symbolic example of Christian leadership, and institutes what we now mystify and reduce to a mere ceremonial ritual, and further ritualising the rituals, and practically, confining and restricting catholic Christianity to the legalistic ritualistic observance; about rubrics of which we have factional fights and on account of which, we have to close down our assembling places (making the temple of God, literally, a den of rogues and robbers) – yes, let those cathedrals (seats of power and pomp) be closed down, and Christian life as celebration of service, forgiveness and sharing, emerge!

We have sucked out all the joy and festivity from our eucharistic celebration, it is at the best a pious ritual, and more often a pompous sombre ceremony which does not relate to life, where people come together are not there in joyful mutuality.  It is something of a subject-ruler encounter, with Jesus/God being more of a spectator, than an involved party or part of the experience.  That is where, I am afraid, the Bible-wielding neo-pentecostal brethren with no specific days other than the weekly Lord’s Day, with the bare minimum of rituals or symbols, apparently drawing energy from their gatherings!

I cannot forget that Jesus’ second turn of 40 glorious days after the ignominious crucifixion, with several occasions of his boundary-free presence, had almost invariably been occasions of meals.  At times, his presence being revealed when they begin to bless the Lord for the bread (Lk 24), other times, he himself preparing food for them (Jn 21). 

Jesus calls us to live life abundantly (Jn 10:10) – celebrating it within all its limitation, with all its possibilities.  Our coming together, our eating and drinking together should all be in his name and befitting him, and leading to a richer life (of abundance of goodness) and of sharing what we have, of caring for each other, and enjoying the goods of the world. A hymn describes Jesus as ‘feasting with men, fasting alone’. 

Pesaha –Bread for the Hungry: An SDG perspective of the Maundy Thursday Celebrations

I hope our lenten observance becomes a celebration with the ‘Lord’s-fasting-alone’, and the ‘Lord’s -feasting-with-men-and-women’ (as the hymn 'Love is His Word' famously sings), of the good things of the world, and conscientiously making efforts to ensure that these goods are there for all, for the coming generations as well – food for all (including those non-human fellow creatures) – SDG 2, health for all – SDG 4; water for all – SDG 6; energy for all – SDG 8; and consume responsibly and produce responsibly, reducing wastefulness and avoiding waste – SDG 12, and cherish and nourish the diversity that can ensure food security (SDG 14 & 15).  And above all, collaborating with each other – at least among the very many brands of the followers of Christ – to ensure that there is no hunger and deprivations; replicating Jesus’ magic formula of sharing the resources (not discounting such happenings even now).

In the context of Keralam, generally the Holy Eucharist as symbolized by the consecrated bread is translated into Malayalam as 'divya kaarunyam' (divine mercy).  I would suggest that the celebration is to be extended to the daily life and relationships where the poor experience the daily bread as the manifestation of 'divya kaarunyam' and consequently burst out in thanksgiving (eukaristia - Greek).  So, the best practice of celebrating eucharistic sacrament would be that of ensuring basic food for your neighbour around.  If it is done with a sacrifice of some sort on your part, it becomes all the more Christ-like. 

I feel a right Christian practice and the proof of one’s being Christian would be that within the geographical area of a given Christian community, there is no (human) being that has to go hungry.  That would be the true Eucharistic challenge and praxis, beyond the ritualistic shows and show-downs.

Note: This year, our school has committed itself to the sustainable development goal no. 2 of zero hunger.  What, a school - considered premium class, and having children who are rather well-to-do, and in a situation like Qatar, where, as such poverty or hunger is not visible – can actually accomplish, is a moot question.


A Good Friday in the Skies

Doha to Kochi – A Good Friday in the Skies

Pictures: https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid02M7vtorNxsC8mCL7gkjagtHNyBfxE55MDip91Jixb2JUAUA5UjbdB1gnW7tWU9h4hl&id=1251360683&mibextid=Nif5oz


I forsook one Good Friday congregational prayers.  Let that be another experience! Being an ordinary believer, in spite of the hard earned ministerial priesthood is a humbling experience.  You are no longer the cynosure of those called together! You are just a him! A mere nobody or somebody out there! A good lesson in humility. But I still would have put up with it, after the experience of a year behind me, but for the very attractive proposal of the flight rates of Etihad Airways.  Never before had I attempted that either.  When I shared with somebody that I got a ticket for that price, many felt it was unbelievable. So more of an exercise in poverty?  I shifted my good Friday practices for the day before, with a rather rigorous fast and time exclusively before the Lord (?). For once, my Good Friday is made good with the Lord of the skies!

It was a long day, and I had to start off early morning. It was already around 12.50 am, I thought it was better that I kept my passport and some liquid cash ready, which were kept in the locker for safety.  I tried my code, and the locker was not being responsive. Initially I thought I’d let it go, as money could be obtained once I reach there as well.  I recalled that even my passport was there in the locker.  Tried again, to no avail. Called up the front office, Jabir, the Bangla boy at the desk was alert.  He knew this could happen, but had no clue. So, the manager had to be called. He was called up, and he gave a set of instruction, which again proved futile. He goes back. As I found it was pointless staying awake, I crawled under the quilt, and was almost falling into a good sleep, then I heard the doorbell. Opened to see, Jabir all set with some tool kit.  So, the locker had to be forced open but with keys, not having to break it down. With the manager Sunder guiding, that was accomplished.  I managed to fetch some necessary cash and the passport.  So that was fairly a good Friday ordeal for one missing the good Friday rituals.

For a resident or a citizen, travelling to or from Qatar has now become very easy with all the national borders becoming automated.   The passage is accomplished in no time.  (But the normal visitor is put to hard test – getting visa itself is a very cumbersome process).

The flight took off five minutes ahead of schedule. The desert of Qatar with its urban Doha along the blue calm waters of the Persian Gulf is left for the capital of UAE, Abu Dhabi. It is just a 40 minutes flight, over the shallow sea, almost translucent and revealing its bottoms.  We take off, and then, land. 

Abu Dhabi, with all its prestige of being the capital of the great economic power house of the middle east UAE, is no match for Doha, at least, as far as the air port and its facilities are concerned.  We have to undergo the ceremony of security check once again, though this time, it appears more or less perfunctory. 

But the gate no. 60, supposed to be the rendezvous for the Malayalees bound for Kochi, is not accessible.  And no seating for the hapless passengers.  Fortunately, I find the border for the indoor plants with a steel wrapping and its top not angular, apparently a deliberate substitute for the passengers in transit to rest their seating and thus relax their calf muscles till the waiting lounge is open.

However, regarding access to the free Wi-Fi, Abu Dhabi fares far better.  No question asked, no answers sought. It is free. Whereas the hi-fi Doha puts you to any number of troubles before you get access to the wi-fi, and having taken the trouble, you don’t feel the access is free any more.

Abu Dhabi has some delay.  The flight to have taken off at 14.10 finally leaves at 14.28.  Then it floats over an immense and expansive mountain folds of a rare desert terrain – more than half the distance they appear dusty hills and valleys, and then rocky terrain, intermittently spotted with human habitations, making one marvel at the sheer tenacity of the human race.  How they survive in such terrains – far far from any source of water, hardly any green spot, directly under the scorching (?) sun with only occasional mobile clouds rendering the service of shade – reminding one of the exodus days of Israel when they were herded under the cloud by day!!  I could see hardly any roads, and still clueless regarding the water source – to find the white patches of human habitation across the undulated, menacing, grey and brown hill terrain of Arabia!

Full 40 minutes flight across such terrain and you meet the vast blue.

The ocean – in spite of its smallness among the mighty oceans, Arabian sea spread with its boundaries beyond the human vision, sometimes decked by clouds, as if it were one with the unbroken sky, other times, a vast expanse of blue, spotted with specks of white clouds.  And this great ship bearing some 220 humans and their belongings flying over this vast blue stretch! Indeed, a brave world, indeed the creator’s might is increasingly revealed through the mighty miracles of science wrought through human minds and hands.  

From the dry-drab-grey-brown Arabian peninsula, almost three hours at a stretch across the blue expanse, we are hitting the illuminated, populous, of course green (but not visible now at 7 pm), Indian Peninsula, well ahead of the scheduled time. What a contrast, what diversity!  The illuminated landscape is soothing.  It is unlike the roaring megalopolises like New York or the ultra-modern Doha – dazzling array of lights.  Here, as seen from above, it is sober, and a sign of life and sign of access to affordable energy for many.  The touch down is smooth.  Kudos to Etihad! This is good strategy - estimate the maximum duration, and cut down on it, and win applause.  The schedule time was 7.40.  It managed to land at 7.19! 

The earth is wet with a good Friday shower. But unlike the cool desert Doha, it is warm, sultry, stuffy, mosquito filled Kochi!

And it is still one planet, one sky, one atmosphere, one water, and one earth of the Lord!

P.S. Trying to adhere to a public transport policy – out in the airport by 7.30.  No sign of public transport, the JNNRUM buses are no longer there. Two e-buses, supposed connect till Metro are there.  There is no body around, no board indicating the schedule.  After 10 minutes, the only other passenger, who has similar thoughts, an IB officer, and me, jointly decide to get an autorickshaw, walking out of the airport. That is a good 8 minutes’ walk. After nearly 6 months of mild and enjoyable winter of Doha, I have already begun to perspire. To Angamaly bus stand it is Rs. 240.00 for autorickshaw – I never thought it would be that much. We go dutch.  At the Angamaly bus stand, there is a fairly good crowd. There arrives a bus to Palakkad, then to Mysore, then to Thrissur and Guruvayoor, then one to Pala, and another to Kottayam.  No bus to Ernakulam.  Finally, a superfast to Trivandrum arrives. I get in.  Got myself deposited in the conductor seat. It was Rs. 39 to Kalamassery. There is no mention of Re 1.00.  Now, I too have grown beyond that stage to ask for Re 1.00. But I saw the conductor being strict with luggage.  He assesses luggage, asks the passenger concerned about its weight. When the youngster reveals it is about 23 kilos, he is ‘forced’ to charge Rs. 63 for his luggage up to Ambalappuzha (about 85 kilometres), which he promises will be covered in some 3 hours.  Often, all of us, play being penny wise and pound foolish!

Now getting down at Premier junction, I walk to Rajagiri.  Fr Provincial was willing to send a vehicle to the airport, which I had declined on account of my public transport policy; but this distance, I would always love to get a ride – preferably, a bike ride.  However, now, I have no one to ask for such favours.  So, I walk.  And lo, it is just 15 minutes’ walk, and I am in my room.

So, for the day, after all the carbon of a flight (unavoidable?), I am trying to compensate in the penny-wise manner, by my carbon fast.


 

Monday, 3 April 2023

A Palm Sunday Reflection from the Church of Our Lady of the Rosary, Doha

Happy Palm Sunday!

Now that we are in touch with each other, all through the day, and that every day carries some significance, people have started greeting each other, almost on every other pretext or occasion. Latest in the line for the traditional Mar Thoma Christians - 1) Kozhukotta Saturday/feast :Kozhukatta is rice flour dumpling with stuffing of grated coconut with jaggery — this is thought to be reminder of the attempt of Jews to throw stones at Jesus, just about the glorious entry into Jerusalem. The sweet dumplings being symbolic of the stones!! 

Now (this is March 2024), I read a new imaginative explanation.  It is comemmorating Jesus'  visit to Bethany, where he is treated with great warmth and hospitality by the sisters of Lazarus.  The sweet is the reminder of that last show of human friendship Jesus received. 2) Palm Sunday.  

So now, I could expect similar greetings through this week - with Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday.  Is there anything wrong in that? Oh nothing.  But it is all new.  That's just my observation.  Some 30 years ago, as I was a student of a rural college of Najibabad (though Najibabad was a township, so to say, the college could best be described as a rural college), one of my class mates sent me a greeting card, greeting me 'Happy Good Friday'.  I was the lone Christian student of the college, and Good Friday happened to be a national public holiday. I didn't find anything amiss in the greeting, rather found it right and fitting. It is a fitting day for the Christians to be happy, though the day is dedicated to the severest penance by the Christians. 

Leading a life, away from the churchy circles, and away from being the celebrant and cynosure of the ceremonies, I feel somewhat unattached. Yet I did go to the church, just about 10 kilometers from my hotel.  There are about 10 priests serving various catholic communities there, and on Sundays and Fridays, during the English masses, somebody would be there in the confessional to hear the confessions.  I too joined the queue, which had just begun to be formed, and humbled myself before the Lord, confessing my commissions and omissions, and receiving absolution.  Then, it was followed by the solemn mass. The massive church, with a capacity to seat around 3000 was full, and spilling over. The balcony was also full. 

Outside, though it is now past spring, almost summer, the wind was indeed strong, and cold.  In this kind of a weather, Peter and his friends would naturally have required a fire to warm themselves while waiting for the judgement awaiting Jesus. 

Though I am not unfamiliar with Latin rite Holy Week celebrations, this time it appeared all new to me.  The celebrant (Fr. Elie, a visitor from Australia, standing tall at about 6'6'', visible to all in the packed Church from anywhere) in the red vestment (of Holy Week), initiated the prayers at the entrance of the Church.  The palm fronds, green in colour, had been placed outside the entrance(s), and people had to pick them up before entering the Church.  I didn't.  But as the priest began the prayers, someone charitably passed 2 pieces to me, and I didn't want to reject his gesture of goodness.  The gospel passage on Jesus' glorious entry into Jerusalem was read out from Mathew.  Then as the priest prayed, the people lifted up the palm leaves and shook them up indicating welcome and joy. The celebrant, with the support of around 15 to 20 eucharistic ministers went around the church, sprinkling holy water, thus blessing the palm leaves and the people. 

As soon as the celebrant and his retinue of ministers ascended the elevated sanctuary, the edited version of the passion narrative was held, with some of the narrators, reading out with some theatrical punch.  Then there was the usual sermon and the mass.  The holy communion, held in a very orderly fashion, under the guidance of several usherers, even with the help of the 20 odd eucharistic ministers, took almost 15 minutes. 



I am still grappling with the mystery of Jesus' glorious entry - with all its enigmatic puzzles.  The mysterious and symbolic choice of the ass and the colt for the ride, the meticulous plan (divine or managerial?) with which they were organized, the spontaneous flow of emotional support for a very popular leader, the children spontaneously repeating the chorus of the exuberant crowd, the unexpected and daring outburst of Jesus with the trading in the temple in connection with the festivities, and the punchline - 'house of prayer for all peoples being made a den of robbers' (Is 56:7 & Lk 19:46), and the scripture based rebutting of the blame regarding children's innocent and joyful praise: 'out of the mouths of the babes, thou has produced perfect praise' (Ps 8:2; Mtt 21:6). 

As we enter into the holy week, I meditate on the charming, bold, witty, reflective, insightful, imaginative, well-read, radical Jesus.  And hope and pray that he will transform my frail and failing frame into his house, a house of prayer for all nations, and he will elicit the right and uncontaminated praise from my lips! Help me O Lord! 

And my Lord, this is my prayer to thee: 

“Strike, strike at the root of penury in my heart.
Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows.
Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service.
Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before insolent might.
Give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles.
And give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love.” (Gitanjali 36)

Sunday, 2 April 2023

Graduation Day - Dismissal Blessings to the Graduates XII Grade 2023

Dear children, dear young men and women of Rajagiri,

As you complete one critical foundational phase of your education, we are proud to graduate you as Rajagirians

I hope you enjoyed this travel together where we traversed the domains of knowledge - hand-in-hand the student, the teacher, the parent walking together.

I am reminded of another graduation ceremony of the ancient Indian tradition.  Brhdarnyaka Upanishad 5.2.3 gives the dismissal mantra of the great guru and father, Prajapati to the disciples - humans, gods and asuras – on the completion of their training with him. To each of them, individually, he gives the final departing lesson. Da, Da, Da. (T.S. Eliot, in his famous work 'Wasteland', cites this in the concluding session as the thunderous revelation to humanity.)

The human understood Da as Datta - You have been given gifts, in turn share your goods, your talents, time. This is the mantra of 'charity', or more specifically, sharing. 

The deva (god) understood Da as Damyatam – You  are led by passions. Be self-controlled and disciplined – conquer yourself, and not others. This is the lesson of temperance. 

And the asura (demon?) understood Da as Dayadhvam – Over come your beastly nature and show daya. Be compassionate to those around you in this world.  Thus transcend your limitations and passions as humans.  Promote peace.

Understand that you are humans, you have unearthly cravings and bestial passions within you.  It is through sharing with others, caring compassionately for others and bearing oneself within limits that you become a true seeker, a human being of intellectual, humanitarian and aesthetic excellence.

Have good memories of the school and do come back. Be the ambassadors of what Rajagiri Stands for!

I have borrowed the blessings the Guru gives to his disciples after 12 years of training is completed and they are being sent out to face the world through the graduation ceremony named ‘Samavartanam’ or ‘Snana’ which means a ritual bath. It is from Taittiriya Upanishad, and I have tried to fit the same within Rajagiri value framework as departing blessings for you all :

As rightly pointed out in the graduate rajagirian’s oath you took, we hope you will live up to that everywhere, always

May you all, With trust in the All Powerful, the Merciful & Compassionate,

Never stop seeking knowledge, nay, wisdom, with passion,  

Being Rajagiri family, but also global family

While you care well for your family, may you care also for the larger family of the planet, vasudhaiva kutumbakam.

And especially, be compassionate for the suffering segments of that family.

May you walk in integrity of thought and action, accepting others as they are,

And yourself as you are, with accomplishments and inadequacies.

May you keep fitment with self, fellow human beings, the planet and God

And always trying to think beyond the box to make things better for all, but with a cheerful countenance.

May you speak the truth and do your duty (satyam vada, dharam cara)

And may your mother be god-like to you, may your father be god-like to you, and may your teacher be god-like to you; and may the unannounced stranger (guest) be god-like to you!

And may you have peace within you, and may you flourish peace around you!

Let there be peace, salaam, shanti!!

 

Speak the truth, do your duty, never swerve from the study of the Vedas, do not cut off the line of descendants in your family, after giving the Guru the fee he desires. Never err from truth, never fall from duty, never overlook your own welfare, never neglect your prosperity, never neglect the study and the propagation of the Vedas. Taittiriya Up. 1.11.1

शिष्यानुशासनम्
वेदमनूच्याचार्योन्तेवासिनमनुशास्ति
सत्यं वद धर्मं चर स्वाध्यायान्मा प्रमदः
आचार्याय प्रियं धनमाहृत्य प्रजातन्तुं मा व्यवच्छेत्सीः
सत्यान्न प्रमदितव्यम् धर्मान्न प्रमदितव्यम्
कुशलान्न प्रमदितव्यम् भूत्यै प्रमदितव्यम्
स्वाध्यायप्रवचनाभ्यां प्रमदितव्यम् १॥

 

May you Never swerve from your duties towards Gods and towards the departed souls (Manes). May the mother be, to thee, a God. May the father be to thee a God. May the Guru be to thee a God. May the guest be to thee a God.

Let only the actions that are free from blemishes be done – and not others. you must follow only those virtuous actions which are irreproachable – and not others.  Taittiriya Up. 1.11.2.

 

देवपितृकार्याभ्यां प्रमदितव्यम् मातृदेवो भव
पितृदेवो भव आचार्यदेवो भव अतिथिदेवो भव
यान्यनवद्यानि कर्माणि तानि सेवितव्यानि नो इतराणि
यान्यस्माकꣳसुचरितानि तानि त्वयोपास्यानि ।नो इतराणि २॥

 

 

 

 

Saturday, 1 April 2023

Eleazar - The High Priest of Kochi Province

Eleazar, the third son of Aaron the first high priest, came to be the successor to the office of the high priest, after the elder brothers of Eleazar, Nadab and Abihu, led the people astray, and met with their end when the earth swallowed them up.  While he is seen as a less eloquent, low profile character in the mega drama of Exodus, he plays a crucial role in his capacity as the high priest in assisting Joshua to allocate the various Israeli tribes their land and let God's laws become part of the Israeli culture, as their first high priest in the promised land. He assumes the charge of High Priest from his father Aaron on the mount Hor, as Aaron merges with his ancestors and goes back to his Creator peacefully in the presence of Moses and Eleazar. 


I was trying to track the name Eleazar, when I received the news of the departure of beloved Fr. Eleazar.  The name is more or less same as Lazarus, and would mean, the one whom God helps.  In that sense he was indeed helped and blessed by God. 
We had, so far in the history of CMIs only one CMI priest, the only unique Eleazar Vadakkumchery - who after a long wait, though not all that tedious, has joined the Lord, the Creator today (March 29, 2023), at the age of 93.  The CMI records show only one other Eleazar - Bro Edatt Eleazar who slept in the Lord in 1947, when Fr. Eleazar was still a student of priesthood. 

He had, I think, the unique privilege of having belonged to the first batch of the prestigious CMI major seminary, Dharmaram College, in 1957.  They had their post ordination course at Dharmaram.

The Dharamaram batch photograph shows a batch of nine, of whom I knew everyone except Fr. Aiden. 6 of them belonged to SH province.  Later Frs. Zeno and Anastasius opted to work in the Mysore mission and became part of that. Fr. Fischer, at a rather senior stage opted for Rajkot mission. I was there to see off Fr Zeno, Fr Sylvester and Fr Nicholas. Fr Eleazer was the last to go - he persevered till the last!! Barring, Fr. Nicholas, all the five that belonged to SH province appeared to have had their core ministry in the field of formation of priestly candidates. 


He had a stint as the bursar of Sacred Heart College soon after his ordination,  and as its Manager when he was its prior during 1981-84 period. I met him first when he came to engage a session for us during our 'vocation camp' at Vazhakulam which lasted more than two weeks. I recall his unique gestures though I don't recall much of the session. Then it was as an aspirant come home after a three year gap.  He was the prior of Thevara monastery, and he asked about the status of my vocation, and when I said something not very enthusiastic he advised me to go ahead with committment as I used to.  The word he used was 'pratibaddhata' which I had come across for the first time then. We had never met before, perhaps, he had some briefing by someone. 

The classic picture he would present is that of 'the Classical Novice Master'. I got to know about him (and other mythical characters like him Fr Simon) in that capacity, from some of the seniors who were kind of friends with me. His peculiar ways of instruction, his care etc. were matters of discussion. It was Shaji Puthenpura, who would imitate his theatrical style of presenting issues and concepts. With the typical pauses in between, which would make his expressions, taken out of context, they were amusing  (e.g., What is that the present generation lacks? The expected response  'contemplation', when introduced with his typical pause would appear like - condom -pause- pleshan). His style was to prompt the listeners to respond by posing a question. The pose is generally effective to ensure attention and participation, but it could lead to laughter for the smart candidates who get used to such features and twist the same to make fun of it. His gestures were almost like mudras of a danseuse.  I have heard that he had his coinage of 'expletives' which without being offensive or unparliamentary would convey his corrective annoyance. 

One of his great contributions, to my mind, is the grove of trees growing beside the basket ball court of what is now the primary section of Rajagiri Higher Secondary School. When he was the rector, he inspired planting them. They have now grown really big. 

When he was the counsellor for pastoral ministry, he was taken up by the enthusiasm of Br. Baiju Chennekkadan and patronised 'Godsland Tourism' as a pastoral venture and a ministry.  The idea was stupendous, the name was good (perhaps, it was Baiju's contribution, or perhaps, his own), and I had some invovlement.  However, Baiju's fantastic ideas could not be translated into real viable ventures, in spite of the attempts made and in spite of Rajagiri College providing its platform for this very innovative idea. I was struck by his openness to such ideas and interest he had shown to promote them. 

To my mind, his greatest strength was his reading on contemporary issues (newspapers and magazines like TIME), and his sermons were marked with a link to the happenings around the world - though I don't know exactly in what practical manner, but definitely that connect of preaching to the issues around the world was in him.  He saw himself as the classical preacher with the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other!! (Perhaps, there is some such reference in homiletics course or about someone treated as an ideal preacher).  His habit of thus updating himself continued even when he was confined to his room.  That inquistive mind maintained, I believe, till the end. 

I observed that he was someone who was thought to possess a very fragile health condition, always requiring special care and some support of medicines, survived nine decades plus, and as he grew older, I think,  grew healthier.  But whether he could overcome those (self-imposed?) restrictions on his diet, I do not know. 

Since he became a member of Viswajyothi community, as a senior retired member, I tried to visit him at least once in a year, just to say hello to him.  But post-covid, I was hesitant.  Even then, last year, before I left for my middle-east assignment, I made it a point ot visit him, and say hello to him.  Initially, I was disappointed as I felt he didn't recognize me.  He showed some grimace and perhaps jocularly, told me, 'poda'... But then Joshy came and I entered his room, and I think he could recognize me, and we struck some common place conversation.  I assured him of my prayers. 

In my list of people for whom I should pray, I listed him too, being the senior most person of the province,  and I sensed the indicators of degeneration in him. 

And behold, he is gone! Gone well!! After having lived a very long,  well-lived life.  Having gone doing good - especially by way of educating men and women religious in the path of consecration, and as far as I know, with least botheration about making other people or systems to be corrected, rather coolly going about doing what one could do and what one could be!

Thank you, O (High) priest of God, blessed by God and was a blessing of God to many! Thank you, dearly beloved father! 

പോവുക മുറ പോൽ വന്ദ്യ ഗുരോ, വിൺ  മണവറ ചേരാൻ 

പരിശുദ്ധന്മാർ ആദരവോടെ സ്വാഗതമരുളും!

We will miss you!