The Light from the Lantern
Sister Carmel and Sharon got ready to go to the church. The Sister called from the Veranda.
“Aleyamma, we are going to the church.”
Aleyamma came out of the kitchen with a spoon in her hand.
“Sister, I too would have come. But I have some more work in the kitchen. Moreover I have to go to my office.”
“Oh, that’s O.K. Let us go. After all, the church is nearby.”
Koshy was sitting on the Veranda talking with Murali. He asked. “Shall I bring the car, Pengale?”
“Oh, No. the church is close by. Koshy, you continue with your work. Come child, let us go.”
Sister walked forward holding Sharon’s hand. The girl waved her hand to her parents.
When they reached the church, arrangements were being made for the Holy Communion. Sister Carmel sat near two nuns who were sitting in the front row. Sharon took her seat behind them.
Sister Carmel was participating in the communion offered in her mother tongue after a long period. The sister presented before God the beliefs and activities that she had held in the map of her life till then with contentment and satisfaction, in that Holy sacrifice.
After the service, Sister Carmel had a cordial and friendly conversation with the other sisters. Then she observed the church carefully. In Britain the number of devotees are diminishing day by day. But here she saw a large crowd of people waiting outside the church hall due to the lack of enough space inside. That sight evoked her curiosity and interest at the same time.
Sharon walked behind her aunt like a lamb following her shepherd.
The Sister’s eagerness to see her father’s grave was increasing. They walked to the church cemetery which was close by.
The cemetery was well kept. It looked like a garden. The passages among the graves were kept neat and orderly being interlocked with red, yellow and green tiles.
On top of every tomb there was a cross on which the dates of birth and death of the occupant with his name were recorded. In the developed countries she had seen such tombs with names. Most of them were about three hundred years or so old. Nowadays there are common grave yards and cremation facilities. There are also luxury tombs.
There, there lies her father’s grave!
It was a beautiful tomb made in marble. The bright cross twinkled in the sunlight. The tomb reminded the elegance and status of her father. The last act of veneration to his father that Koshy, the only son of Kottaram House, had performed! A tomb that keeps memories glowing all the time.
When they came closer to the grave the Sister was again surprised. The tomb had been cleaned and decorated with a beautiful floral arrangement in the shape of a cross and garland on it! Candles were stuck on all side of tomb. A match box was placed beside the cross to light the candles.
The Sister was taken aback. She turned her face towards Sharon and looked askance. She explained.
“Sister Aunty, Pappa and I came earlier and did all this.”
The Sister held her close and kissed her on the forehead.
Sharon lighted the candles on her grandfather’s tomb. The Sister too lighted a candle and stood before the grave with a new vigour. Words fell down from her trembling lips – A prayer? No. This was not a prayer.
“Pappa my papa – my papa. “The sister was calling and sobbing at the same time. Her eyes began to overflow. Keeping her head close to the tomb she sat like a child in her father’s lap and cried for long.
There were tears in Sharon’s eyes too.
After a few minutes the sister controlled herself, wiped her eyes and stood up. Then a dove flew round and round above them in the sky.
Sharon took the sisters hand and walked forward. It was then that Sister Carmel saw the dove.
“Look look. Here is a dove!” The dove came down and sat on top of the beautiful cross above the grave. Was it her father’s soul! The sister felt very happy and contented. Hugging Sharon, she moved forward. Then she stopped and looked back at the grave once again. Sharon too looked back.
“Daughter, my dear daughter…. Your Sister Aunty is happy… satisfied!” Sharon looked at her with love and happiness. The Sister looked at the distance and continued like a philosopher.
“I am wearing the holy attire which insists me to keep distance with family relationships. …. Still, I am quite happy with the newly developed relation with people of my own blood….. I am happy. I am content….
She took two chocolates from her pocket, gave one to Sharon and ate the other one herself. She had the habit of keeping chocolates with her which would revive her on getting tied in a long walk.
They slowly walked and reached the small Chapel in the cemetery. The Sister prayed quietly looking at the cross there. At this time Sharon opened her bag, took out a novel and began to read.
After the prayer, they sat on a sofa in the chapel. The Sister took the book from Sharon’s hand and turned its leaves. She said.
“Oh, this is ‘Malgudi Days’! A very old book that signifies the writer R.K. Narayan. It was published in the nineties. There have been more than fifty editions. Still it is brand new. Well, why do you read it now?”
“Sister Aunty, this is my favourite book. I like to read it often like revision.”
“Yes, yes very good. My sweaty is smart. It is very good to read a lot. The habit of reading is a blessing. God’s own blessing.”
We gain common sense and experience of life through journeys and books. Good, very good. Reading is the celebration of the brain.
Sharon said with enthusiasm “Jacky is also a good reader.’ She continued. “I had asked him early that he should send me the novels “Postmortem” by Patricia Cornwell and ‘The Blind Assassin’ by Margaret Attwood. That lazy fellow did not do it.”
“No, he is not lazy. He is a good boy. He is wise and mature beyond his age. You know that he came there only recently. I did not know that you are such an avid reader. When I return to London, I will send you whichever book you like. Isn’t that enough?”
“Yes Aunty. That is enough.” Her face glowed.
“The English read a lot. Books are like their siblings. Do you like Jacky?”
“Yes Aunty.” Sharon answered quickly. But then she bit her tongue as if she had said something wrong.
Sister Carmel noticed her quick reaction. She decided to find out what was in Sharon’s mind. So Sister Carmel asked a mischievous question, like a researcher looking for a secret meaning.
“What? What? What kind of liking?”
Sharon answered slowly with a shy smile.”
“Liking… Liking only. Nothing else.”
“I haven’t asked, my sweetie if there is something else; did I?
Sharon shrank back a little. As if offended, she said. “No, Sister Aunty…. There is nothing like that.”
“What? ‘Nothing like what?” Sister did not give up.
The sister enjoyed her change of expression and false anger. She tried to increase it. So with a hidden smile she asked. “Shall I marry him to my sweetie? I shall tell your papa.”
“Oh, No, No” Sharon said as if shocked.
Sister gave up her funny mood and said seriously. “Don’t find fault with anything. Good things are right everywhere. Man is greater than religion. Human beings should be loving and pure. That is my religion.
Sharon looked at the Sister with wonder.
“Sister Aunty has to read a lot if you have to make a speech. Isn’t it so?”
“Yes, Yes. Reading cannot be avoided. It is a part of our training. Life should have excellences. Without that, life is meaningless. Haven’t you heard the Holy Scriptures asking whether grapes grow out of thorns and figs from the prickly thistles? The Scriptures, teach us that our life should not become something like writing on a black board with black chalk piece.”
Sharon was looking at her with great attention. She asked. “Sister Aunty, have we got any restriction in reading and learning the books of other religions?”
Sister smiled simply and said. “There were such restrictions in the past. But now it does not exist. Look here, girl. To understand fully the meaning of the word giving or benefaction we should read the Holy Koran. To know about right actions one should read Gita and Ramayan. Man goes from the wrong to greater wrongs because he does not read such books.”
“That is true, Sister Aunty!”
“Look here daughter! ‘Love’ consists of only four letters. But how strong and gentle that word is! Our religion relies on its strength.”
Sister stopped her talk for some time. Was she thinking whether to continue or not? Sharon doubted. Then Sister said again.
“But every holy book tells us about the importance of it. For example, Gita says:
“Karmaneyvadhikarasthe ma falashu kadachana’. These and the following lines indicate work without any desire for reward. Our care, sacrifice meditation and prayer are the good deeds that we do for others not wishing any benefit.
“Aunty! I have to learn a lot from you. Tell me more. Tell me more.” Sharon begged like a little girl.
“Oh my Sweetie!”
Sister hugged her with a bright smile and kissed her on the forehead. That kiss had the warmth and strength of love. It had the fragrance of the lotus lake and the coolness of water. Sharon asked her about the ascetics who practice penance in the Himalayas.
“Why don’t they come down and lead the sinners who live among us to virtuous life?”
Sister Carmel looked at Sharon and said.
“My child, the holy men of the Himalayas concentrate their mind and body in God and do penance for the good of the world. They are like the scientists whose minds and thoughts are engrossed in the experiments they conduct in their laboratories. The Saint Vyasa did Tapas in a cave on the bank of the river Saraswathy and produced for us the Mahabharata and the Bhagavat Gita. Didn’t Maharishi Valmiki give us the Ramayana? If people read holy books like these, all vices will disappear. When the number of persons who do not read increase evil actions and thoughts also will increase. Those who gave us the holy books and scriptures were gods who lived among men. Didn’t the eleven disciples of Jesus Christ become martyrs? Why were they killed? Only because they reacted against evil. Good word is real life.”
Sharon stared at the Sister with her eyes wide open. Sister asked.
“Oh, my girl! It is time for us to return home. Your mummy might have cooked a lot of dishes. My greed for native food increases day by day. Come, come. Let us go.”
“Aunty…I want to learn more from you. Please tell me about non-violence.” Sister kissed her and said. “Non-violence or Ahimsa means that there should be no murder or physical torture. That idea was first preached by Lord Buddha. He was born as Prince Siddhartha and led a luxuries life till his youth. Then he threw away all his assets and came down to the midst of people as a Sanyasin, empty-handed. His boredom with the life of luxurious and the simple and pure life that he led as an ascetic are a good lesson to others. ‘Dharma Padh’ is their holy text. But, but, the person who gave love and peace to this world was Jesus Christ.”
‘We should come here again, Aunty!’
“Yes, yes. We can come. Now be quick Sister walked forward, hugging Sharon.
At home Aleyamma had prepared putt and kadala, pappad and banana. Everyone enjoyed the breakfast. Later they went to see Koshy’s fields.
(Cont’d)
