FLEETING MEMORIES OF A SHORT-LIVED VOCATION

PART I  -  PARADISE GAINED

I grew up in the 1950s in the rural environments of Kaipuzha in Central Kerala. Our days were spent in activities revolving around the school, the church and the paddy fields. Unlike today when our lives are saturated with all things western – clothes, food, music, gadgets etc., western influence was only beginning to seep in. One of the first symbols of western lifestyle that crept into our lives in those days was ‘bread’; yes, the same bread that is sine qua non of our daily diet these days. We recited the Lord’s Prayer many times during the day in which we asked God to “give us this day our daily bread”. However, this expression’s mother-tongue translation into Malayalam referred to ‘bread’ as our ‘daily nourishment’ in the form of appam which is made of rice. In the original prayer as taught by Jesus it is bread made from wheat as in the ‘Modern Bread’ of today. Because of its rarity in my days, bread was all the more delicious.

The longing for this rare and tasty commodity was the reason I patiently awaited the arrival of the ‘breadwallah’ (rotikaran). He had a bakery in the nearby village of Neendoor. Like most travelling salesmen of the time, he would carry his stuff on his head in a wide-rimmed basket made of bamboo splinters, similar to the one used for transporting coconuts. It would contain goodies like ‘rusks’, ‘buns’, biscuits, and of course bread. As soon as he put the basket down, I would grab whatever I could lay my hands on and run off to a safe distance beyond the grasp of my mother. She would be shouting to me to bring everything back so that a proper tally could be done and the correct payment made. I would have none of it, knowing very well that some of the stuff could be confiscated and returned. The trick was to take a bite of each item so that they could not be taken back, just like today’s children who would lick the ice-cream as soon as they get it so that their brother or sister becomes repugnant to touch it. My mother would be forced to shell out more than what she would have liked.

Children then were innocently naughty unlike those of today who are more calculating. When it came to matters of Church, my friends and I took part in all its activities and functions. At some time during our lives we were altar boys. We helped the sacristan light the candles; we assisted at mass held in Syriac, (Suriani), not a word of which we understood; we used coconut shell charcoal to get the fire in the thurible going for ‘incensing’; we made sure the vestments were folded neatly and kept back in the cupboards; and so on. This closeness to Church had its side effects, one of which was that many of my contemporaries were called to the religious life. It was a time when parents prayed hard that God may bless them with a son as priest and a daughter as nun.

The vocation to dedicate oneself to the service of God is manifested in many ways. St. Peter, a fisherman, heeded on a whim Jesus’ call to be part of His messianic mission. St. Paul, who was a tormentor of Christians, converted after his fall from his horse and had visions in which Jesus called him to spread the messianic message to the gentiles. St. Francis of Assisi was the son of a rich cloth merchant who, after he had a vision, gave up all his riches and a life of debauchery to follow God’s call; he later founded the Order of Franciscans. My call to the religious life also came through a ‘vision’ I had while watching a short documentary film. After mass on a Sunday it was announced that The Salesians of Don Bosco would be screening a film at the forane church at Kaipuzha that evening. With hardly anything to do on a Sunday evening, I took a leisurely walk to the church along with some of my friends.

The documentary dealt with the average day in the life a typical Salesian. He is seen teaching, running orphanages, managing secondary schools and colleges - in general catering to the young generation. This is all done with a smile. It also showed the life of an aspirant to priesthood in the Salesian Order; how he gets up at the stroke of five, silently does his morning ablutions, silently walks in line to the church for the morning mass, silently walks in line from there to the study hall where he spends an hour after which he silently walks towards the refectory where the supervisor brother asks God’s blessings over breakfast and the bell is rung and the holy silence is broken. Breakfast is followed by 30 minutes of cleaning the entire place, again supervised by brothers. Classes follow; then lunch; more classes; games; shower; study; supper; evening walk; night prayers in chapel; good night message by a priest; back to dormitory. Other than at times of silence, the screen is filled with laughter, gaiety and carefree merriment. The aspirants also go for day long picnics and outings. Great fun is had by all and is highlighted in the documentary at every opportunity.

More than all the fun and games, what glued me to the screen was a particular scene. While taking the viewer around the campus at Thirupattur, where the Salesians have their training centre for initiates to their congregation, the camera slowly pans the mechanized bakery and lo and behold: there come out hundreds of loaves of bread on a conveyor belt! For me that scene was akin to Paul’s vision of Jesus. This is it, I said to myself. This is God’s clear sign to me. I felt something stirring within me. I felt God’s call. It was pangs of hunger which in my greed for that rare commodity ‘bread’ I (mis)took as hunger for God’s love. There and then I decided to dedicate my life to the religious life as a Salesian priest. Indeed, God works in mysterious ways!

The entire family came along with me to Pachalam, in Ernakulam where the late Fr. Francis Guezou was starting a house. After spending two days there, I was sent to the Salesian aspirantate at Thirupattur. It is a boarding school where one is slowly and subtly introduced to ways of religious life. Though I was just promoted to form IV at my home school, I was demoted to form III since my English was not good enough. There I was transported into a completely alien world – hostel life at its strictest. Mass, meditation, visits to the chapel, rosary, prayers, classes, study and games filled the day. Every moment from waking up to an hour after going to bed is supervised by a brother, lest the aspirants succumb to some impure temptation or other. Purity was an obsession with St. John Bosco, the founder of the Salesian Congregation. So much so biology was banned from our matric curriculum lest the pre-teen boys learn about human reproductive system with dire consequences to their chastity. While going for walks, one is expected to cast one’s eyes downwards, so as to avoid looking at a passing woman or girl, which might lead to impure thoughts and result in loss of grace and heaven.

John Bosco’s mottos was “catch them young” and indoctrinate them, something similar to what the communists do to their young. The methods are similar; what is different is the aim. With Don Bosco it is blind love of God leading to selfless service to fellow humans. The communists on the other hand decry social class divisions and aim to instill hatred of the bourgeois in the proletariat. For one it is salvation; for the other revolution. Both brainwashing and indoctrination are very powerful tools in the wrong hands, as is seen with Tamil Tiger and Muslim suicide bombers. They do completely alter one’s mindset. Since these two are mostly used for nefarious purposes, they are condemned by one and all; however, no such condemnation is forthcoming when these same methods are used in the name of love of God and service to man! In addition how every word, motion, gesture, action, emotion is critically observed, analyzed and reported to some superior in the feudalistic hierarchy of the seminary was to dawn on me only after I took the plunge. In fact, the entire Catholic Church is entrapped in a feudalistic mindset, from which it is unable or unwilling to escape. By the time I joined the novitiate at Yercaud under Fr.Egidio Sola, a plump mild mannered Italian, I, along with most of the novices, could be canonized alive. Paradise gained.

[Post Script: Part 2 will shed light on my life in Paradise at Yercaud and how it was lost! Acknowledgement is due to John Milton whose poems inspired the subtitles. In my case I first gained paradise and then lost it. In his case he married and then wrote “Paradise Lost”; later, after his wife deserted him, he merrily penned “Paradise Regain’d”.]

[Published in the June 2009 issue of Snehasandesham]

AYYANETH’S “THIRUSESHIPPU” : AN APPRECIATION

Ayyaneth

Last week I came across the book Thiruseshippu (relic) by Pathrose Ayyaneth (1928-2008) published in 1967. A prolific writer, he has penned 40 novels, 10 short story collections, a few plays and articles. His first novel that accidently fell into my hands was Kodungattum Kochuvallavum (A small boat in the storm). While looking for a book without pages torn off at the Kottayam Public Library where most books suffer this surgery, I found Ayyaneth’s book on a damp unpolished table. I had never heard of this author. It is the story of a Catholic family’s downward journey from respectability to total disintegration, caused to a large extent by leading their lives based on the distorted values built on religious myths and blind faith in a feudalistic environment. I realized that he was exposing the rotten underbelly of the Church through this novel.

I was hooked. I read a few more of his novels: Thettu, Asurakandam, Verum Veruthe, and Drohikalude Lokam. But I was disappointed. They reminded me of cheap thrillers by Jackie Collins and Harold Robbins that you take along to pass time during a long train journey. Like Collins and Robbins, a touch of soft porn helped sell his books like hot cakes. But unlike them, Ayyaneth is able to sprinkle gems of philosophic wisdom throughout his books. He seems to have an obsession with certain parts of the female anatomy. Luckily or unluckily for me, my familiarity with Malayalam language and its literature is superficial. I was forced to stop studying Malayalam at Form III (Standard 8) because of a failed call to priesthood. Nor did I have a chance to read and study in depth Hindu mythology. Hence Ayyaneth’s references to erogenous parts using mythological terms and stories are beyond me. It is like listening to an erotic story in Chinese.

Thiruseshippu, however, brought him back into my favor. More than the book, I was very impressed by the ‘review’ written by the eminent Malayalam scholar and one time Kerala education minister, late Prof Joseph Mundasserry. For him, all major religions are run by bureaucracies with vested interests. In Europe, the influence of the Catholic bureaucracy and the evils perpetuated under its protection has been reduced drastically due to the social changes taking place there. A similar development should have followed suit in Kerala; on the contrary, the Catholic bureaucracy here is still mired deep in the feudalistic mode, and continues fearlessly in its evil ways with great vigor.

It was Ponkunnam Varkey who first raised his voice against the misdeeds of bishops and nuns through his short stories. Although his writings made waves at the time, everyone soon forgot about them. Ayyaneth is one person who is following Varkey’s footsteps and that too at a more elevated level.

Mundasserry the literary critic, however, questions the credibility of parts of the storyline. He suspects that the novel is based on real events. For me that is a pregnant statement: he seems to know more than he cares to reveal. He concludes that this novel is like a bomb thrown at the perversions in the Catholic Church; for this service alone, the Christian community of Kerala should be grateful to Ayyaneth. Thiruseshippu, he asserts, is a feather in the cap of Malayalam literature.

The novel has a simple storyline. Ponnamma comes from a rich family, while her neighbor Babu is of middle class extraction. Gopi and his family are low cast Ezhavas (Chokons) living as serfs on Ponnamma’s family property. All three attend the same village school. Everyone thinks that Ponnamma and Babu are made for each other. However, Ponnamma is in love with Gopi. This scandalous relationship is vehemently opposed by her family. They murder Gopi and make it appear as suicide. She refuses to marry the boy proposed by the family which forthwith disowns her. Rather than commit suicide she decides to join a convent; and she becomes Sr. Bernarda.

Within a short period, Sr. Bernarda is consumed by Tuberculosis. She is discarded by her community and dies a lonely and painful death. Some time after her death, the mother general is cured of her ‘gas’ problem after coming in contact with a relic kept in a box found on Sr. Bernarda’s person after her death. The news of this “miraculous” event spreads like wild fire. In time, many cures and miracles are attributed to the sister and the relic. Sister Bernarda becomes Saint Bernarda. The relic is now kept in a golden casket reverently touched and kissed by the faithful and which has become an object of great veneration by her devotees.

The veneration of relics and the belief in the power of intersection by saints so widely practiced by the Catholic Church are brought to total ridicule by the author when it is revealed that the piece of bone venerated as ‘relic’ is a piece that Ponnamma (the present St. Bernarda) surreptitiously recovered from the ashes of Gopi, her lover, after his cremation!!

The first eighty pages of the novel throw into sharp relief the following issues: life in convents; sexual exploitation therein; creation of saints, miracles and relics; the myth of “bride of Christ”.

Ayyaneth’s description of life in convents is dated. The current situation is much more liberal and democratic. Not so, 50 years ago. Feudalistic attitudes reigned supreme within the prison walls of convents. Women from rich families stayed at the top of the pyramid. Sexual exploitation of the poor but good looking inmates by the ‘confessor’ priests with the connivance of the senior nuns (who were often their concubines) was rampant. Lesbianism was common. These perversions are all still extant – Sr. Jesme’s book stands testimony to this.

What is commonly understood as miracles are physical impossibilities. Every one of them has a scientific explanation, even though it may not have been discovered as yet.

Unlike today, the early Church venerated as saints all those who led holy lives. Now-a-days many vested interests regard the millions spent on creating a saint as a wise investment. The returns are manifold. St. Alphonsa has become a cash cow for her congregation and for the diocese under whose jurisdiction it comes.

Relics are body parts and things associated with the dead saint. These are venerated under the belief that favors are received through them.

The belief that every nun becomes the bride of Christ at the time of taking vows is a myth that is perpetuated to lure immature young teens to become nuns and dedicate their lives like slaves to their ecclesiastical masters in building a bigger and richer Christian empire. In the Old Testament God is represented as the Husband. Israel, His people, is the Wife. In the New Testament Jesus is the bridegroom and husband. The individual Christian and the collective body of believers are his bride, then wife. St.Paul used this imagery in his epistles. He exhorts men to love their wives as Christ loved the Church. This area is studied by seminarians as ‘bridal theology’ during their theological studies.

Every nun is married to Jesus. Krishna had 16008 wives; but Jesus has many times more. Every convent is Jesus’ virtual harem. While the church dictates strict monogamy, its authorities vie with each other to get Jesus married to more and more young women. Many of these young women, denied of their natural urges, secretly fantasize physical relationships with Jesus, their groom. After all, Jesus was a virile and handsome young man of 33 at the time of his death.

Virtual polygamists: Jesus and Krishna

Carmelite nun Teresa of Ávila had in her prayer trances the physical equivalent of orgasms. She described the soul's intense desire for Jesus in the language of erotic passion. In this, she belongs to a long tradition of mystical experience known as bridal mysticism.

The author in his introduction requests the reader to believe that whatever similarities the characters in the story might have to people living or dead is accidental. It is my belief that novelists normally do not make such defensive statements in a purely fictional work. I grew up in Kaipuzha, about 3km as the crow flies from Kudamalloor, the birth place of St. Alphonsa. As a youngster, I heard some loose talk about the early life of the saint that does have echoes in the present storyline. However, they remain hearsay without factual evidence.

Ayyaneth, whose works shocked 'custodians' of conventional morality, died in a hospital in Trivandrum of injuries suffered in a road accident. In his case, the clergy treated his death as just punishment for badmouthing the church. If a bishop, on the other hand, were to die in a plane crash, it should be understood as God calling him early to enjoy eternal life! How convenient! Even after his death, Ayyaneth continued to defy the Church he was a member of – as per his will, his was buried sans any religious rituals.

I wish more people would come forward to expose and fight the frauds perpetuated by the Catholic Church in God’s name.

PREMARITAL SHH…: IT IS TIME FOR KNANAYA REVERSE MIGRATION!

A short article “Premarital sex is fine, say 90% teens” that appeared in Bangalore Times, dated July 4, 2010 set me thinking. (Forgive me Father, for I have sinned; I used the s-word.) As part of the promotion exercise of the film Udaan, its producers conducted an online survey of 1004 urban respondents aged between 12 and 19, of which 77% were boys. The responses include the following interesting statistics: 50% have kissed someone of the opposite sex; an equal number have stolen money from their parents; 20% have got intimate in the bathroom and 90% of teens think premarital sex is fine. The last statistic is the causing me sleepless nights.

Within a fortnight another article appears in the same Bangalore Times, dated July 20, 2010 with the heading “Dating it Right”. Here we have reports of another decadent Western practice, ‘dating’, fast becoming common place in India. When we were growing up, ‘date’ was a noun; these days it has also become a verb ‘dating’, involving certain acts that in the good old days (oh, how I miss them!) would lead you to hell, unless you repented and confessed. This article contained some statements totally going against the traditional teachings of the Catholic Church. Sample the following from a 24 year old girl:

“Why would I want to get married, when I can date, or get into a live-in relationship? Marriage for many is about legalized sex. I don’t have to get married to satisfy a physical urge”. (Vandana Saxena)

Last year the South Indian actress Kushboo caused a mini moral tsunami when she stated in an interview that it

“…was fine for girls to indulge in pre-marital sex after taking precautions to keep unwanted pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases at bay” and that “no educated man could expect his partner to be a virgin.”

The Indian male, highly strung by this assault on his age-old right to a virgin bride dragged her to courts through the length and breadth of the land until the Supreme Court came to her rescue.

A number of questions rush to mind. Is this the beginning of the end of ‘Indian Culture’ as we know it? Is the concept of ‘virgin bride’ becoming obsolete? Is the Indian society moving from the ‘license Raj’ to a ‘licentious’ Raj? How can religious leaders, the self-proclaimed guardians of morals, allow this slide into moral chaos and degradation? Where will all this leading to? Won’t there be hundreds, nay thousands of unwanted school/college girl pregnancies? Will schools and colleges have to make provision of maternity rooms and day-care centers and time outs for feeding and nappy changes? Won’t this emerging trend also lead to a rise in PDA (public display of affection, for those not familiar with Indian legalese acronyms) – holding hands, hugging and long smooching (God forbid!) – leading to high BP and heart attacks in desi Mother Grundys?

This viral infection is percolating fast, though subtly, even to the remotest corners of the land (that is going to the dogs), thanks to the media. What has the Catholic Church, including the spiritual leadership of our Knanaya community doing to stop the spread of the twin heretical disease of ‘dating’ and ‘premarital sex? (Oops! I forgot. We were busy organizing and leading protest marches against the unfair, unjust and politically motivated arrest of the totally and absolutely innocent accused in the Abhaya case and fundraising for the same.)

This permissive virus will not leave the Knanaya youth unaffected. The leadership of the community must act with alacrity to stem the rot. There are many unsavory things going on in the metros that the Knanaya parents living in the rural areas of central Kerala and Malabar are unaware of. They send their wards to the big bad metros – Bangalore, Bombay, Delhi etc. – for higher studies and work. These children have been protected while at home like animals in a zoo. Barely six months after their arrival in the metros there is total metamorphism in their thinking and behavior.

Some of them manage to juggle two or three partners simultaneously. This means for the girls two or three cell phones, eating Colonel’s Kentucky chicken by bucket-loads and free daily movies, not to mention the ‘unmentionables’. Others get into live-in relationships under the pretext of cost cutting. The naive parents back home continue to believe their children to be the same church going, morally upright and innocent boys and girls. It is imperative that the parents and senior members of the Knanaya Community are made aware of this dangerous development among unmarried youth.

Some parents abroad, especially in the liberal US and Europe, think of leaving those permissive societies and returning to India so that their children can grow up imbibing the Indian culture (read sexually strict culture). In the light of the survey, I am reminded of the saying pata petichu panthalathu..

There is a lesson in all this for the Knanaya community. It is time for reverse migration. In 345 AD our ancestors migrated to Kerala with the prime aim of evangelizing the Kerala heathens and to do a bit of trade on the side; it is time we in Kerala start migrating back, not necessarily to where our ancestors came from, the region in and around Iraq, as that country is in ruins now. Rather, let us go to US, Canada, countries in Europe, Singapore etc. where there is true democracy, little corruption and the icing on the cake, plenty of money. And those who are already in these countries make sure you abandon all thoughts of returning to India which is becoming permissive. Stay put. Like there, here too teens think dating and preteen sex is fine.

Of course there are many more solid reasons for leaving Kerala; inter alia: Rising religious fundamentalism; poor education system based on memorization and reproduction; leading state in India for alcoholism, road accidents and suicides; over politicization, bandhs and harthals; dog in the manger policy towards job creation; the arrogant and lazy nature of the Keralite; environmental prostitution for the benefit of the well-connected; the widening gap between the rich and the poor; rise in crime, gondaism and quotation gangs; endemic corruption - the list goes on.

There seems to be convergence of opinion by teens all over on such dangerous issues as dating and premarital sex. Hence it does not make much difference whether one raises one’s children here in India or abroad. At least in America, Europe and Singapore those problems mentioned above are minimal compared to Kerala.

The Catholic Church has always considered sex to be permissible only within legitimate marriage solely for continuing the human race. St.Paul, founder of the Catholic Church and the greatest of saints allowed sex to happen between legitimate married couples only and that too in the extreme case of hormones going berserk. So this premarital hanky-panky is totally out of line with what the church has been teaching for the past 2000 years. Our wayward youth must be reminded about this teaching of the church through all available avenues – Sunday homilies, catechism classes and our official publications.

The original migration in 345AD took place under the leadership of a layman, Saint (according to our Jacobite brethren) Knayi Thomma with the Bishop of Uruha accompanying him to take care of the spiritual needs of the migrants. Given the changed circumstances, the reverse migration is going to be led by the spiritual leadership, headed by the hierarchy of the Community, with the sycophantic lay leadership bearing the luggage and singing praise songs. (One is reminded of Livingstone exploratory journeys of Africa with the natives carrying the provisions.)

This Jubilee year is a good time to officially inaugurate the reverse migration. It can be added as an additional item on the agenda of the various committees already in existence to take care of the celebrations. E.g. the ‘transportation committee’ can investigate the ways and means of getting the cheapest air tickets for the largest number; the VIP accommodation committee can also be tasked to find ways and means to accommodate the arriving reverse immigrants temporarily until they can be settled permanently.

I have already started encouraging my son to look for a job overseas and do a reverse migration.

BIBLE STORIES RETOLD: ANGELS & DEVILS; ADAM & EVE

 

First God created heaven. Then he created angels to populate heaven. They were categorized into different orders: cherubim, virtues, powers, thrones etc. Lucifer (whose name means light bearer), a cherub, was God’s most beautiful angel. However, he was not content to play second fiddle to the Almighty, but wanted to be equal to Him. So one day, for a start, he tried to raise his throne to the level of God’s throne and all hell broke loose, so to speak. Then he recruited his own army of discontented angels and started waging a war against God. God was really mad and to lead his own troops, he appointed Archangel Michael as his field commander. As can be expected, Lucifer lost and was thrown along with his army into hell.

According to Pope John XXI, then Bishop of Tusculum, the number of angels who sided with Lucifer numbered 133306668 while those with God were 266613336! These figures were later confirmed by the 15^th century scholar Alphonso de Spina. I am still to figure out how they came to those numbers. Once in hell, Lucifer was known as satan. The angels who fell with him became the demons.

The second great endeavor God undertook was to create earth and put Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Adam was created first so as to give him a chance to say something. Again, God was quite thoughtful in creating man first since He didn’t want any advice! He formed the shape of a man out of clay and breathed into its nostrils the breath of life, and presto Adam came alive. After creating Adam, He stood back, looked at him carefully, and scratching His Head, He told Himself: “I think I can do better than that.” Then He created Eve. He put Adam to sleep, took one of his ribs and turned it into the woman.

After admiring his newly created children for a few minutes, He briefly addressed them: “Don’t.” Just like that. “Don’t what?” asked the two. “Do you see those two trees laden with fruit in the middle of the garden? The apple tree on the left is the tree of knowledge of good and evil and the other on the right is the tree of life. Do not eat the fruits of these two. You may eat all others.” “Why?” chorused Adam and Eve in unison. “Because I said so”, replied God, clearly irritated by audacity of the two. Calming down he explained: “You will die if you eat the fruits.” Leaving them to explore the garden He went back to His heavenly abode to reflect on the day’s creative activities.

Archangel Gabriel noticed that God was in an unusually pensive mood. There was something bothering Him. Neither the heavenly choirs nor the harp and flute players were able to calm His nerves with their soothing music. “What is the problem, my Lord?” gently prodded Gabriel. “Gabe, did I make a mistake in creating man? Maybe, just maybe, I should have stopped with the elephant. At least these animals don’t talk back, unlike these two”, replied God with an inaudible sigh. “I think we should not worry”, advised the Archangel. “In case they become cheeky, we will flood the earth and drown them all.”

Adam and Eve were happy to roam around discovering the delights of the garden. In course of time they settled into a kind of routine. Adam would tend to the animals and cultivate the fields, while Eve took care of the house. There was hardly any need to cook, since there were plenty of fresh fruits, vegetables and nuts available all round the year. So Eve spent most of the time in the fields looking for beauty herbs.

During one of her perambulations through the thick undergrowth, she heard a hissing sound coming from close to where she stood. Looking closely, she saw a big snake in the grass looking up at her. “Hi Cutie”, it addressed her. At first she was taken aback at hearing a snake talking to her. Soon however, she became quite puffed up by the fact that there was someone who appreciated her beauty. Lately, Adam had been neglecting her, having got used to her. Besides, there was no other female as a point of reference for comparison. Another thing that struck her was that it was speaking with a forked tongue. “Thanks”, replied Eve. “What can I do for you?”

The snake said: “I understand God has forbidden the two of you to eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil in the middle of the garden. That’s because He knows that when you eat the fruit of that tree, your eyes will be opened and you will be like Him. You will also have carnal knowledge.” “What is carnal knowledge?” asked Eve in her naivety. “It means you will know how to have fun. Anyway, you will understand what I am talking about after you eat the fruit”, replied the snake with a sleazy dart of its tongue. The serpent knew that God, for some reason, was slightly distracted when creating Eve and as a result forgot to fill a tiny part in her brain dealing mainly with judgment. So she fell for his charm and ate the apple.

It was Lucifer, now known as Satan, who appeared as a serpent and tempted Eve to eat the forbidden fruit. Though unwilling at first, Adam was incessantly nagged by his partner to partake of the apple, and he gave in to her immoral demand most reluctantly. This apple had a magical effect on them: they became aware that they were both naked! Adam, the gallant man that he was, quickly found two fig leaves and gave one to Eve. He wisely chose fig leaves since they are large in size compared to other leaves. However, his wife wouldn’t go for it. She looked around the garden for something more stylish and flashy. She considered mango leaves (too narrow), curry leaves (too small), banana leaves (too big) and a few more, ultimately settling for the fig leaf Adam had originally suggested. Now you know why, after detailed examination of umpteen sarees in the shop for three hours, your wife finally goes for the first one that you had suggested!! This is the clearest proof that we are all descendants of Adam and Eve.

In the evening when God came around for a stroll, he could not find the couple. So he called out to Adam and said, “Where are you?” Adam replied that he was afraid because he realized that he was naked and so had hid himself. Looking around, God could see the outline of two heads peeking from behind a jacaranda tree. “Come out you disobedient children; you have eaten the forbidden fruit, that is why you are ashamed of your nakedness”, God was really angry. “Why did you disobey my commandment?” demanded God. The blame game now started. “The woman you created for me gave me the fruit and I ate” said the man. “The serpent beguiled me and I ate” was the woman’s excuse. Since the serpent had none to fall back upon, he just lay there staring into the distance. This is the same vacant stare that the check-in clerk at the airport has perfected when faced with an angry passenger who is left stranded on the ground as the plane is overbooked!

God decided that suitable punishment should be meted out for this crime of disobedience. He cursed the serpent and told him: “You will crawl on your belly and live on dust for the rest of your life. I will put enmity between your children and the woman’s children; since you will be crawling hereafter, you will bite her children’s heels and they will smash your head into pulp.” One can see this often happening in God’s own country where snakes are out to bite people and people are determined to kill them.

To the woman He said: “You will bring forth children in extreme pain. However, in spite of this pain, your desire for your husband will increase so that you continue to bear children. Henceforth, your husband will be your absolute boss.” A cynic has observed that the eighth wonder in the world is the woman getting pregnant again after she has gone through a very painful childbirth!

Lastly, to Adam He said: “Since you listened to your wife and disobeyed me, your wife shall wear the pants in the house when no one is looking. You will eat by the sweat of your brow till you die and return to the ground from where I created you. You are dust and to dust you shall return.”

Then He chased them out of the garden. A Cherubim with a rotating flaming sword was placed as security guard at the entrance to the garden so that they don’t sneak back in to eat the fruit of the tree of life and live forever.

In course of time, earth began to be populated by humans. Satan and his legions, now condemned to everlasting torture in hell, and with nothing else better to do and to avenge themselves, found a new vocation, namely that of tempting and corrupting man and leading him to sin against God.

There is another story about the origin of demons that I came across recently while surfing the net. Once earth began to be populated by humans, God decided to appoint some angels to watch over them. They were called ‘watchers’. No touching, no meddling, no contact, just watching. Well, it was a bad decision on the part of God. When the watchers saw how beautiful the daughters of men were, they took them as wives and began to have children with them.

These children were called nephilim who were giant monsters. They began to eat humans and when humans were not available, each other. Fed up with all this, God summoned his commander-in-chief Archangel Michael and told him to throw them all into the eternal fires of hell. Demons are the evil spirits of the nephilim and they also form part of Lucifer’s army.

Derived from the idea of ‘watchers’ was the belief of an angel hovering over our right shoulder. He was known as the ‘guardian angel’. He is there to protect and guard us 24/7. As a counter, Lucifer also sends one of his devils to hang around our left shoulder, tempting us to do bad things and disobey God. We, as children, were taught to call upon our guardian angel when in doubt and need, and to thank him daily before we went to bed for protecting us from the vile Lucifer who wants us to offend God so that he can drag us into hell’s eternal fires.

[Published in the January issue of Snehasandesham]

MORAL RELATIVISM AND DIVISION BY A FRACTION: MEMORY BYTES OF A BYGONE ERA

In the 1950’s when I was growing up, we lived in rural Kaipuzha, right in the heart of Upper Kuttanad. Electricity was only just beginning to be available. So, for most of us, no television, no fridge, no microwave, no music system, no i-pod, no cell phone, not even a landline, no nothing. The present generation must be wondering how we survived. Well, our lives and activities revolved around the local parish church, the school and the paddy fields.

We were taught to respect priests and nuns as God’s representatives on earth. Talking back or showing the slightest sign of disrespect to them would be punished with sound beatings. Bishops were in a higher category as far as subservience and obedience was concerned. Our Bishop, as I was growing up, was Thomas Tharayil, who was my father’s cousin. His visits to the parish were occasions of great joy and celebration. He would alight from his foreign car dressed in a white cassock with red buttons and tied with a red sash and wearing his red skull cap. There was also the large gold cross attached to a very thick gold chain hanging around his neck. We would all kneel before him and kiss his ring as a sign of respect. He would celebrate the solemn mass wearing the mitre (the cap that looks like the crocodile’s mouth) and golden staff in his hand. We would all make sure we took Holy Communion from him only. On his annual official visit, he would distribute prizes to the top catechism student in each class, the first price going to the one who can best memorize the catechism book which was in question answer format. None of us understood what the contents really meant. In fact they were not meant to be understood or questioned, rather they were to be believed and obeyed.

God created you. He is 3 in 1: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The first humans created by Him were Adam and Eve. They were put in a garden and told not to eat the fruit of the apple tree. Satan in the form of a snake tempted Eve and she ate the fruit and then forced Adam to eat the apple. God was very angry and He chased them out of the garden. Because of this disobedience, all descendents of Adam and Eve, with the exception of Jesus and Mary, His mother, are tainted with original sin. Jesus the Son of God, the second in the Holy Trinity, took flesh by the power of the Holy Spirit, had a virgin birth and was crucified on a cross by the Romans and Jews for sedition. On the third day He rose from the dead and moved around visiting his apostles. Forty days later, He ascended bodily into heaven to sit permanently at God the Father’s side. His death saved us all. In memory, we celebrate the holy mass, during which the priest changes bread and wine into the real body and the real blood of Christ which we eat and drink. Before we take communion we should confess our sins and be purified.

Sins are of two types: venial and mortal. Lying to your mother about the cookie that disappeared is a venial sin. Killing someone in cold blood or looking at a girl with lust is regarded as mortal. If you die without confessing a venial sin, you go to purgatory and stay there until some of your relatives and friends acquire sufficient indulgences on your behalf. You may collect indulgences through good works and prayer and in the good old days you could buy them. Anyway, the length of your stay depends on the total number of venial sins against you and how fast your friends and relatives can gather enough indulgences to get you out and send you to heaven. On the other hand if you die without confessing a mortal sin you are sent straight to hell. However, if you are clean of sins, both mortal and venial, you go directly to heaven. In those days, these two places, heaven and hell, were very important in the Catholic Church’s scheme of things.

The tortures of hell and the joys of heaven were explained to us in detail during our catechism classes. Heaven is the place where God sits on a high throne surrounded by his angels. Some of these angels form choirs and continually sing His praises. Others play the harp and the bugle, eternally playing those instruments and keeping God and other saved souls happy with their soothing music. Since they are all spirits, they need not spend time on cooking and eating and brushing teeth in the morning etc. like us humans. If we are good, then after death we go to heaven where we become angels and join the choirs or assigned to play the harp forever. Anyway, this was much better than burning in hell for all eternity! There is a special type of very hot non-extinguishable fire that burns without turning you to cinder.

The end result of all this was that in case we thought we did something wrong, even minor, we would become paranoid and run to the nearest available priest, wait in the queue to confess so that we would be ready for heaven if something tragic were suddenly to happen to us with no time to repent. By all means we had to avoid the fires and snakes of hell.

Apostle Paul, based on visions of Jesus, in which he claimed direct revelation by Him, made Jesus divine and preached a morality based on the pre-Christian Greco-Roman culture in which he grew up. Following Paul, and later Augustine, morality was mainly confined to sexual matters. Other sins, regarded as mortal, though at a lower level of gravity, were: not attending Sunday Mass, not confessing during the Lenten season, not taking communion once a year at least, eating meat on Fridays, and being disrespectful of priests and nuns. They were designed to keep the sheep in the pen. With the exception of lust, the deadly sins – gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy and pride - were considered as not really serious sins but rather aberrations. Fraud, cheating, and betrayal – they were in the minor league.

Let me illustrate.

There were two grandfathers in my neighborhood, both closely related. One had two brothers who were priests and the other a son who was a priest. There were also nuns in their families but I am not sure of the exact numbers. One needs to remember that the more priests and nuns a family produces, the more exalted is its standing in Catholic society. Such families were regarded as having ‘superior pedigree’ and hence marriage alliances were eagerly sought from them.

The two grandfathers were regulars at daily mass. One had two of his grandsons kneeling beside him on either side. At the time of the consecration of the bread and wine, both would half-close their eyes, lift their heads upwards and raise their hands heavenward in supplication. Both went and received communion daily. Overall, it was the demonstration of an extremely saintly behavior inside the church.

Outside, however, it was a completely different story. They would not speak to each other. Moreover, each took every chance to malign the other to anyone who cared to listen. Both were very well off financially. They owned large tracts of coconut orchards and paddy fields. It happened that the two of them owned some paddy fields with a common boundary. In the darkness of night one would get his workers to shift the entire length of boundary mud wall, about a foot high, into the other’s field by a couple of feet. Since the soil was dark clayish, it was very soft and moist and easily shifted. The other gentleman, once he realized his loss, would move the mud wall, not to its original position, but further into his enemy’s territory by a good three feet! This back and forth shifting of boundaries amused the locals no end. At one time one of them planted a coconut sapling just on the boundary so that most of the nutrition is taken from the other’s property. Within a few days, the other gentleman did the same just on his side of the boundary so that the two coconut trees grew up like Siamese twins.

One time my father and his friend Mathaisir, who was also my drawing master at school, wanted to broaden and raise the small stretch of village road connecting our houses to the main road. Everyone including the very poor willingly shifted their boundaries bordering on the road and rebuilt them at their own expense. But not these two gentlemen! Their properties jetted out like sore thumbs. In those days it was thought unnecessary to confess selfish acts of this nature since there was nothing impure about them.

Of course murder, unlike these days when bands of contract killers roam the country, was very rare. I remember it was such a spectacle when someone was discovered stabbed to death on a narrow path we used as shortcut to school. We would never walk there alone, and if one happened to be alone, he would make a dash for it, making sure to jump over the spot where the man lay murdered, lest the victim’s evil spirit that was hovering around would possess him!

Our good behavior was, without doubt, the result not so much of looking forward to joining the choirs of angels in heaven but rather of fear of hellish fire and brimstone. Fear was an all pervading feeling then – fear of parents at home, fear of teachers in school, fear of church authorities, fear of hell hereafter, fear of God; in fact there was hardly anything we did not fear. This fear of nearly everything kept us in line. At school we were beaten black and blue for the smallest offence and we suffered in silence unlike today’s youngsters who would jump before a train and kill themselves because their demand for ‘chili chicken’ is denied or they failed their exams; suicides, like murder, were very rare and far between.

During my middle school years, one of my teachers was Thodukayil Pothakuttysir. One day he was teaching us math and the topic was division of a number by a fraction. The technique, as you know, is to multiply the numerator by the reciprocal of the denominator. To demonstrate practically how this is to be done, he led me, one of the smallest in stature, to the front of the class, held me up upside down by my heels and asked the class how I looked. They chorused, “upside down”. “So”, he continued, “do the same to the denominator and multiply the numerator.” My classmates may have forgotten the incident, but I certainly haven’t. And I have never made a mistake in division by a fraction!

[Published in the February 2009 issue of Snehasandesham]

Dear Friends

Sorry for the long gap in publishing my musings. Reasons range from sheer laziness to time taken to supervise the construction of a house in Adichira, Kottayam. Hope to spend quite some in Kerala in future.

Thanks for all your comments and words of encouragement.

I shall post those articles already published in Snehasandesham (SS)at digestible intervals. Even though some of you have already read them, go through them when you feel bored, or have nothing to do. You might discover a different perspective! Who knows!

I shall also post some musings that do not appear in SS. Since SS is only a monthly publication, any additional musings of mine can only appear here.

Remember, I write for fun. It is just a hobby.

Some of my writings serve a cathartic purpose; others are meant to provoke thought; still others are written in a light vein. If what I write makes readers sit up and debate, well and good; if anyone is offended, it is not intentional, rather incidental.

Kindly send in all your comments (even anonymously). They encourage and sustain my efforts.

Happy reading!

Maani.

WHEN I WAS IN AMERICA…

In the good old days, while I was growing up in the rural areas of Kuttanad near Kottayam, some priests who were lucky enough to visit United States would start their homilies or speeches with the expression “When I was in America…” Ditto for that exclusive club of laymen who felt their locus standi among their peers would improve with an anecdotal description of their American experiences at the start of every conversation. Now-a-days, when a tenth of Kerala’s population is in the U.S. at any given time, and at least a fifth has visited the country at one time or another, the expression ‘When I was in America…’ does not hold any surprises for the listeners.

I spent almost six months in U.S. from June to December 2007.This was my third visit to that country and the longest. My wife and I were there to assist with the birth of our second grand daughter Anusha or Anu as we affectionately call her. We slightly shuffled the letters of her big sister’s name Ashna, added the letter ‘u’ and presto, we have Anusha.

My daughter stays at Ashburn. It is an extremely quiet place about 50 km from the Washington D.C., the U.S. capital. It will take about 30 minutes’ drive by car on a Saturday afternoon to drop into the White House to say ‘hello’ to Barack Obama. During peak hours it is more like 45 min to 1 hour on the 12-lane highway. With the sun setting at around 9 pm in summer, there is a lot of daylight for a quick drive to Washington D.C. to visit one of the numerous museums and other tourist attractions.

In U.S. cars stay on the right. Inexpensive petrol, multiple lanes on highways and clear road signs make driving a pleasure. If you can invest around $250 on a global positioning system (GPS), even I, who tends to get lost all the time, can drive around without the aid of road maps as this device very cleverly prompts what is to be done well in advance. Drivers hardly use the hooter, a few not even aware that there is such a device. (I am not joking!) There is such competition to sell cars that buyers, particularly from the subcontinent, spend the whole day bargaining as you do in a fish market.

Unlike Indians, Americans are very polite and law abiding on the roads. In India, there is no fear of the law – everyone is either related to a politician or a policeman or at least is an acquaintance of one. In the worst case scenario, one can bribe one’s way out of most difficult situations. In America, there is fear of the law. Add to that the shoal of lawyers waiting to sue you at the slightest provocation.

One day I went with my daughter to the supermarket. In America everything is big: men and women are huge; pizzas are extra large; supermarkets are very spacious, the car park endless. I got bored of walking around inside and came out to look at the surroundings. After sitting on a bench for a while, I decided to take a stroll through the car park. I went to the pedestrian crossing and waited for a gap in the traffic as we do in India. As I put my right foot on the road, every car on either side stopped. Fearing that they would all start at any time and run over me, I decided to go back to the bench. Immediately all the cars started to move. A little later as I again put one foot on the road with the other still firmly on the pavement, all vehicles screeched to a halt. I hesitated and went back to the bench. The movement of cars started again. My daughter later told me that the cars stopped to let me cross the road. If one of the cars were to even slightly brush me that would be a golden opportunity to sue the driver and win a huge compensation! In India, drivers wait for you to cross the road so that they can run over you.

When one thinks of capitalism, the United States comes immediately to mind. But there is one area where socialism is very much evident: the domestic environment of the desi. Most of the Malayalee (+other South Indian) families in and around Ashburn come from middle and upper middle class families. Many of them have never sullied their hands back home doing manual labor. In America, they do change; in fact they are forced to change. Domestic help is at a premium. So it really amused me to see these formerly spoilt youngsters, especially the males of the species, helping in the kitchen, cleaning the house, washing the bath and toilet, doing quite a bit of gardening, and other such chores.

A couple of months into my stay at our daughter’s house, Ashna, my granddaughter was sitting beside me turning the pages of the ‘Style’ section of ‘The Washington Post’ while I was engaged in the main section. Suddenly she turned to me and asked:

“Dada, how is that my picture is not in the news?”

“Well, you must be newsworthy, or make some news.” I replied.

“One thing”, she went on, “I want to be famous and my photo should come in the newspaper.”

Then she started on one of her tantrums and insisted that her photo appears somewhere. I suddenly remembered that a couple of her photos were on my website where my blogs appear and showed them to her. She was immensely pleased. And now she wanted to know what a blog is. I spent the next twenty minutes explaining blogs. After a few minutes of deep thought, during which time I went back to reading the paper thinking that she would soon forget the whole thing, she suddenly jumps up and says:

“I also want a blog and become famous!”

The next couple of days she kept pestering me about the blog. On the third day, she brought a bundle of papers, a pencil and an eraser and made me sit at the dining table. She sat next to me and being very lazy herself, told me she would dictate and I should write down what she wanted to write on her blog!!

So I wrote, very slightly edited and typed verbatim what she dictated. I hope this is not her first and last blog. The following is the finished product.

ASHNA’S LATEST NEWS

By Ashna Maria Vayalil

Ashna wanted to be in the news for a long time. She is only six and a half years old. Ashna has a baby sister Anusha who is only 3 weeks old. She also has a cousin sister whose name is Diya. Ashna’s birthday is on October 13. When she was 4 months old she was in ‘Editor’s Choice’ and she won first prize. Sometimes she is good, at other times she is bad. She wants to have 2 sisters instead of 1. She has a nice beautiful garden. There are tomatoes, cucumbers, green chilies, strawberries, bitter gourds, curry leaves and mint leaves in the garden. We also have pine trees, jasmines, roses and other exotic plants as well in our garden.

Ashna’s house is pretty too. There are 3 bathrooms, 1 kitchen, 3 bedrooms, 1 library, 1 breakfast room, 1 family room, 1 living room and 1 dining room. We have 4 clocks, 1 TV, 13 windows, 25 lights, 4 closets, 3 exits, 6 sofas, 4 umbrellas – that is all in Ashna’s house.

Ashna the girl loves to dance and sing and watch TV. She also watches a program called ‘Kutties Choice’. She loves to paint and she loves to play on the computer and watch lots and lots of TV. She wish she had 56 sisters and 54 brothers and 100 cousin sisters and 1 cousin brother.

She is in grade 1. She is going to grade 2. She wishes that she is already in grade 9!! The grade 2 school is ‘Hillside Elementary’. Her old 1^st grade school was named ‘Virginia Academy’.

She really wanted to hear about herself in the news and she wanted to be famous. And now she is going to be. She has lots of pictures, almost 100 that she made. When she was already in her mommy’s tummy she wanted to be famous. She calls her mommy ‘mama’ and her dad ‘daddy’.

She loves Hindi movies and some English movies and her favorite one is ‘IQBAL’. And her favorite song in Iqbal is “Aashaye” and it goes like this:

Aashaye, hile dil ki

Ummidien hasse dil ki

Abu mushukil

Nahee Kuchbi

HoOOooOOOoooo

Aashayee………………..

Ashna will write again later.

I hope she will.