Adieu Sister Shushila! We will meet again…

A spoke to Sr Shushila probably a month ago. She did not have any mobile phone. She requested a nun to give me a call. She spoke a lot…a lot. She wanted to speak more. I allowed her to speak. She asked me, how do I feel? What do I eat? When do I pray? How is my health? How is my study…She wanted to get my mobile number and expressed her desire to talk to me more often. At the end of the conversation she passed on to the nun, who informed me that Sr Shushila was just diagnosed with cancer and she is in her advantaged stage.  

Then just a week ago, I called the same nun who knew Sr Shushila well. On receiving my call, she said in a sober voice, “why did not you call all these days? Sr Shushila was desperately looking for a chance to talk to you. She wanted to tell you so many things.”

“Please take your phone to her. I wanted to talk to her.” I said hurriedly.

“It is too late. She has been senseless and she cannot recognize anyone for the last three days” she said and wept.  

And today I got the news of her passing away…She has gone to her Divine spouse, her Master, whom she served so faithfully. I will always regret of not talking to her for the last time. I could not hear her last word. She will never tell me, Ripon tumi bhalo father hoye thakbe shobsomoy (Ripon be a good priest all the time).

Sr Shushila was not known to me for many years. She was in her early eighties and I was in my early thirties. I still remember the day, when I met her for the first time. After the holy mass, she came to me and asked me to visit a sick person with her. I happily agreed. From then onwards, she would always inform me about the sick people and asked me to visit. I would often visit sick people with her. She knew all the sick people of the parish. She was also aware of the problems of the people and tried to help them, whenever she could. She would love to be with the people.

Then she got transferred. But she never forgot me. She would always come to visit me. She would call me from other’s mobile phone and tell me to be a prayerful and holy priest. The last word she uttered to me was to be a holy priest. Just before leaving for Bangladesh, I met her and spoke. She was telling me again and again that she would die before I return to the country. That day I did not realize how true were her words.

She died on the Mother’s Day. She was truly a mother to me. She taught me how to love the poor and sick people.

I am convinced that she is in heaven and she is praying for me. Adieu Sr Shushila! We will meet again…

Celebrating my mother’s birthday!

Yesterday I went to celebrate my mother’s birthday. I must say that I was invited and asked to be there for the celebration. Initially I did not want to go. But my superior forced me to go as he was aware of my mother’s love for me. You might be wondering, what is so remarkable even my superior is aware of it. Every mother loves her children and it is quite natural. But indeed my relationship with my mother is a special one. She did not give me birth. She never nurtured me. In fact she became my mother only last year. Does it sound strange to you? Probably yes...

Let me narrate to you the incident of how she became my mother.  As a priest, I have more than enough opportunity to meet and interact with the people from all walks of life. Some people leave some marks on the first meeting itself. She was one such person, who made me feel close and important on the first meeting itself. Her innocent smiling face captured my attention. We exchanged a few words and she requested me to visit her house.

I must admit that her repeated phone calls led me to her house. She welcomed me and made me sit and offered me a cup of tea. While sipping the tea, I was attentively listening to her stories. She told me that her husband died when she was quite young. She struggled to bring up the children. She is content that her children are well settled in life. They all live in the city, leaving her alone in the village. I noticed that she did not complain about anything. Rather she gratefully remembers that her children take care of her by giving her money regularly. As she spoke, her eyes were filled with tears. At this point, I asked her, “Don’t you feel lonely? Wouldn’t it be better for you that you live with your children?”

“Oh yes at a time I do feel lonely. Especially at night I do not get sleep. But I cannot expect my children to be with me all the time. Now they have to establish themselves. They stay in the city with their family. Let them be happy with their families.”

“How often do they visit?”

“They try to visit me on Christmas and Easter Sunday. But not all of them could make it always. You know they are really busy people. Let them be happy with families.”

I particularly noticed that she was repeatedly saying that ‘let them be happy.’ This is a sincere wish of a mother for her children. I sat close to her for quite sometimes. As it was getting dark I got up to leave. She suddenly caught my hand and said, “You are like my son. I am happy that you are around me. Please come to visit me again.”

The innocent face of the lady flashed back to me again and again as I was walking down my community. Silently I said to myself, I have got a mother. From that day onwards, she has been showering her love for me in every possible way. I remain ever grateful to her as her love reminds me the love of Divine One who is invisible!

Along the way!

I was aware of the sudden storm at night. The first thing I did in the morning, once I got up from the bed, was to go around the campus. I was sad to see a few trees fell down. I was trying to calculate the amount of money we must have lost. At that time, someone rang our main gate bell. I went to the gate and found our breadwalla(the man who supplies our bread) came with bread. On seeing him, I said, “Oh dada (hello brother), a few good trees have fell down because of the heavy storm of last night. I am so sad.”

“You are crying for your trees,” he smiled and said.  “My mud house was completely gone. I could not sleep last night with my family members.”

I had nothing to say. But it was a great ‘thought-provoking’ conversation for me. How often we are busy with our little world? But if we look around and thank God for all that we have, we will find this world a much better place to live!

(my) Love story!

(This is incredible! Something really strange! How a celebrant could write about his love story, which took place after making solemn promise of chastity? Here I take pen to tell one of my love stories! I did not fall in love instead I rose in love…!)

A sudden miss called from her surprised me. I knew there was something particular. I called her back. “Oh Ripon, I am dying to tell you. My parents have arranged a marriage for me. The boy is good and I am happy about it!” she said without any breath once I said “hello.”
“Congratulation! I am so happy for you.”
“I know you cannot come for my marriage but on Feb 6, on the day of my marriage you must call me and send a gift for me.”
“I will try.”
“What do you mean by you will try. You must. You have to. You are my friend and I can demand certain things from you. This is the right of my friendship.”
Then she kept on speaking…
When I put back my phone, I was in deep thought of the nostalgia. I sank in the memory lane. It was in the year of 2003. After three years of initial Jesuit formation, I was asked to do my graduation studies in a public college rather than going to a Jesuit run college. In the college I was like any other ordinary boy, and almost nobody knew that I was preparing to become a Catholic Priest.
On the first day, when I entered in to the class-room, I was a bit surprised to see that there were roughly forty girls and only three boys. I have never before studied in a co-educational institution. I was puzzled of where to sit. At this point I saw a girl from the last row was asking me come next to her. I went and sat next to her.
During the first hour, I introduced myself as Bangladeshi, a foreigner and lone. During the second hour the Principal came and spoke to us in English. As he did not know Bengoli, he asked someone to translate in to Bengoli of what he said. I was the only one who could speak English. Thus from the first day itself I was the centre of attraction!
Within a few weeks we formed a group. We were five in the group- two boys and three girls. Soon I discovered among the three girls, a particular girl was taking interest on me. Outside class she would try to be close to me. As I was aware of my identity of a celebrant and did not want to 'fall in love' with a girl, one day I told her that I was preparing to be a Catholic priest. I had to explain to her what it meant to be a Catholic priest, as she was a Hindu. I thought, after hearing the aim of my life, she would keep certain distance. But to my surprise, I found she was becoming more close to me.
Then time came for vacation. The college was closed for almost for a month. On the reopening day, she said that she had brought a gift for me. During the break we went to the college canteen. She handed over to me a Crucifixion. Then looking at the Crucifixion, she said, “Ripon, I want to see you as a holy priest like Him.”
That was enough for me. That gave me a lot of freedom to grow. There grew a mutual trust and faith. We have grown in a loving friendship. She would often say that she loves me like a friend. We were in the college for three years. Many memories! Many incidents!
Just before leaving Calcutta for Dublin, we five of us got together for a ‘farewell party’. It was somewhere near Victoria Park in Calcutta. We all sat together, recalling our past days- specially days of exams. Laughter, jokes, eating spicy food…! When it was getting dark, we knew that the girls needed to be returned home. At the end we were rather silent for sometimes. In silence, we felt the presence of each other. There were no words but just our being together. At the time of departure, she handed over to me an envelope. She asked me to open it when I get back home. When I opened the envelope, I found in a small paper she wrote,

“Remember me when you are sad, when you are alone, when no one is around you, when things do not go well with you. I will be there with you.”

Then we parted…it is almost four years that we have not seen each other. We all have taken different roads. After so many days, I was happy to know about her marriage.

Yes, in life we cross across many people. But only certain people remain in our hearts. We may not meet them anymore. But their presence is always with us. We grow in a loving relationship. We create a love story. In this love story we do not need to be lovers.

It is true that we do not have any problem to find people to share our joy, happiness, success, dreams... But to find someone to tell about failure, stupid mistake, shortcoming is not easy. But there are people…perhaps sometimes we do not notice them…

Invisible among the visibles!!!

How wonderful it is to meet a person and engage into a very authentic conversation! It adds more excitement if one happens to meet someone after a long time! Recently, I had such an opportunity. I got a chance to meet a person after ten years. In fact, I was a bit surprise the way she greeted me. The way she held my hands, as per the tradition of my culture, spoke a lot to me. She is a senior nun, having much experienced than me. During our conversation, I could find out that she was quite up-to-date about me, though we never exchanged any forms of communication. Just to make fun at one point I told her, “I never knew somebody in this world loves me so much. I thought I am alone and forgotten person!”

I could not finish my sentence. Immediately the whole milieu turned up-side-down. She took my words literally and was very angry with me.

“God will be angry with you” she said angrily. “You are loved and there are many people to think and pray for you. We may not see or realize the love of others as we do not see God’s love sometimes. But God loves us so do others!” To calm her down, I had to admit that I just made a joke and wanted to make her angry. Then we had lovely conversation and she left.

She got into the bus and the bus began to move. I headed back home. But the thought lingered with me for sometimes. Yes God loves me…perhaps sometimes I notice it. Or may be sometimes I want to ‘rationalize’ too much that I do not find God. Perhaps too invisible! Too dark! Too complicated!... Thus Tagore rightly says, “have you heard his silent steps, he comes, comes every comes…!”

Life is like an airport!

We both were sitting across the table, enjoying a simple meal. The whole atmosphere was little somber as we knew this was our last meeting. We recalled our first meeting at the university. Initially language was a barrier to communicate with each other. As the days rolled by we found our common interests. We spent great deal of time at the university corridor, talking about serious and light moments of life. Now he has to leave to another country.

At one point of our conversation he said, “Life is like an airport. As in the airport, planes take off and take in; we have to always, in our life time also say goodbye and welcome.” I liked his comparison. In fact airports and railway stations are two places; I like to spend time in reflecting about life. Every movement of these two places reminds me of ‘life journey.’ These two places also help me to ‘examine myself’, if I put it in the Ignatian term.

Within a few minutes, I would leave for my retreat. Perhaps these eight days will be like spending time in an airport or in a railway station. I will have to say goodbye and welcome of….. But more importantly I will have to meet someone, who is always with me, though hidden and invisible!

Life changes!

Yesterday while having dinner alone, it clicked me that how my life has changed during the course of time. There were times when I would have hated to have meal alone. I would always expect others company. Now sometime I do take meal alone and most of the time I did not notice even! As a child I would always dine with my near and dear ones. Later on, while staying in the student’s hostel or initial stages of formation I would dine always in the company of others. Still I remember the most difficult time I passed once during my first year of regency. I had to be all alone in the house just for three days. It was not that I was frightened! But I felt terrible. I missed the presence of others. Then again I had to be along during my second year of regency in Dublin for a few days. As we were all busy with different activities at one point everyone had to be out except me. When my Superior noticed it, though he himself was away, asked me if I could stay alone. Though I said yes but it was also difficult. Now I am quite comfortable having meal alone!!!
Perhaps this is what we could call changing faces of life. I clearly see the difference of way I see things now, the way I judge, the way I deal with others... I will not term it as a positive sign or as a negative sign. But they make me wonder! They make me to reflect. Sometimes I ask myself, is life changing too fast! Perhaps this is what we would call, life changes!!!

Along the way!

Yesterday I was feeling a bit heavy. I was looking for something which would give me a break of my unusual activities. Suddenly it clicked me that I could accompany two of my companions as they were going to the ‘HOME’ of Mother Teresa Sisters’ for the weekly service. I called one of them and expressed my desire. He welcomed me and asked me to get ready soon.

Remembering a lost friend!

I have almost forgotten that the friendship day is being celebrated today! When I opened my facebook this morning I happened to notice it. Thus I sent wishes to some of my friends. Though I am not so crazy about sending wishes, it was in a way replying their wishes.

Is it really ‘wrong’!

Is it really ‘wrong’!


I must admit that due to social media I have recently been connected with many of my friends whom I did not meet ages. As I plan to visit my country in a few days time, many of them asking me to meet them. They often remind me of our golden yesterdays. One of the things I find common in all of them that they keep on telling me that our childhood days were really good. As we grow we have many problems, many anxieties and many concerns. I do agree with them and think is it too difficult to have a mind like child!

Hi friend! Hello friend!

Hi friend! Hello friend!




friendship...it happens!



A few days ago I came across a very interesting article on friendship and social media. It has been a matter of proud to have more friends on social media. The author has rightly pointed out how social media has changed the real meaning of friendship. I had a very interesting reflection (not philosophical!) on friendship just a couple days ago. As I was returning home after having gone through an unpleasant incident, I was thinking with whom I should share. I was looking for someone whom I could trust, whom I could rely on and more ever who would stand by me instead of condemning me. It would have been easy for me to share with many if it would have been a pleasant incident. I do call many as friends, consider many as my friends, have a sizeable number of friends on social pages like facebook, orkut, blog, skyp…! But are they really my friends! A thought remained with me for sometimes…

ciao...Greek

A year has gone by…

A year has gone by! Today I have finished my first year of theological study. Its time to get ready for exams. Just study, study and study!

Ciao Greek!

At the end of Greek exams, the only words I could speak is, ‘Ciao Greek.’ Finally its over. I must admit it had been terrible. Thanks God its over! Now looking forward to Latin!

As we grow…

As we grow…


In the middle of our conversation my good friend asked, “Why do we have so many tensions? Why cannot be life simple?” I did not have any answer to give her. Then she began to tell that when she was studying she did not have anything to worry. Her parents looked after all her needs. But as she moved from the family and began to live separately while having a job, things have begun to change.

Nostalgia...

‘Nostalgia’ I must admit that I have a special affection for this word. When I learned this word for the first time, I simply loved it. For me this little word carries certain amount of emotion. I do not really recall if ever I had used this word in any of my writings! But time it comes within my heart…

It’s a problem or difficulty!

It’s a problem or difficulty!


This morning I had gone to the beatification ceremony of Pope John Paul II at the St Peter’s Square. It was a special moment for me as he would be the first blessed of the Catholic Church whom I saw. I had seen him as a young boy of six, when he came to visit my country. I always cherish that moment. If I begin to write on the impression he had left in me, I may pen a few pages, which I do not intend to do right now. Rather I would pen a simple thought which has been haunting me since morning.

As I turn 30…thinking of all the surprises!

As I turn 30…thinking of all the surprises!
Have I ever given a thought of how to celebrate my 30th birthday? My 20th birthday was grand so as 25th. I must admit that I am not very fussy about celebrating birthday with lot of external celebrations. I have tried to avoid celebrating my birthday, but often I have failed. Often in the past, some of my close friends made sure that I ‘celebrate’ it.

If only we knew!

If only we knew!
Often I wonder! I look at the people and think what they must be thinking or going through in their lives. Sometimes I feel like asking some people, what are you thinking. But I cannot. Once I had an opportunity to attend a conference on suicide. We spoke many different aspects of suicide. I remember making a resolution to take interest of knowing people around me. But often I failed!
Years back I was staying in a hostel while doing my college studies. One day I noticed one of my class-mates was very sad. He was the most handsome and intelligent in our group. I hardly had any interaction with him. I would always consider him very ‘moody’. That day I went near to him and began to talk. As we continued our conversation he revealed something, which I never expected. He told me that he came from a very poor family and he was finding very difficult to meet all his needs. Even he did not buy the text-books though exams were approaching soon. At one point I asked him, then how could remain so happy all the time? ‘’This is just to hide my sorrow’’ his immediate reply. Thereafter we shared our books and became good friends.
Today after many years I remember my friend. I do not know where he is. May be I have to search him among the unknown faces…!

I pray

I pray...
Last few days I have been deeply thinking about the problems of Libya and Japan. The problem of Libya could be easily termed as men made, while the problem in Japan is a natural disaster. There are some underlined factors involved for this natural disaster, and I have no intention to discuss about the cause of havoc. What pain me are the sufferings of the innocent of people. Though I was never directly affected by the natural disaster but I have seen the endless sufferings of the people.
These days as I read and discuss that we are the ‘children of God’ I often wonder if God is our loving Father why does he permits the suffering of the people. Why cannot he save us? I have no answer!
But I see the face of God in the faces of suffering people. I see our Lord is suffering with the victims. He takes the side of the ‘voiceless’.
I pray for the victims. I pray for the peace. I pray that all may see the face of our Lord, especially those who are responsible for the problems, in the midst of victims.

If only!

She is one of the recent ones! Finally (!) she left the religious order. Though I was sad to receive the news but I was not surprised. I knew for quite sometimes that she was going through inner struggles. She indirectly gave me hints that she was planning to leave convent.

Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not.

Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not.
Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own.
Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger. (Rabindranath Tagore)
Often I ponder over these words of Tagore. How true they are in my life! Almost 11 years ago I left my home, my country. My study and mission took me to different countries. I met different people. They welcomed me in their homes and accepted me as one of them. I often wonder why people love me. Take the examples of Mrs Particia. I have met her just a few months ago. She is ever ready to welcome me into her home. She cooks my favorite dishes. She calls me often and enquires about my health and study.