A few words while traveling...

I pen this text as I travel by train in Italy. There are lot of people around me and of course most of them are Italians. Italian people are very friendly and they get into conversation easily. They like to speak to foreigners who speak Italian. Of course they keep on saying, 'you speak very good Italian' and once you speak good Italian they do not say anything. In the past, While traveling in Italy I came to know many people. But today I do not feel like getting into any conversation with anyone. Don't ask me why!
Just before getting into the train, I was having a chat with an Italian friend. In the course of our conversation, she told me that she was scared of Bangladesh. But realising that she was talking to a Bangladeshi, she corrected herself and said, oh I was just making a fun. I know my friend was not making a fun and she was serious. She has obvious reason to do so. Recently We have killed nine Italians and some other foreigners in a cafe in Gulshan, Dhaka.
As I proceed in writing, I feel sad, angry with myself. I am angry because we killed those people who came to help us. I am sad because we could protect them in our country. They taught us what it is to be human.
I don't blame anyone. I do not want to make any judgment. I wish and pray that these 'spoilt son' of our nation could think for a minute the contribution of the forgniers in building our nation.
I have nothing to say. In silence, at the most I can murmur that we are sorry!




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!

The precious gift of my Priesthood!

A year ago, on this very day I was the centre of attraction, if put it in a very simple term, as I was being ordained. For many it was a big occasion. My parents, relatives, near and dear ones wanted to celebrate the occasion. I allowed them to do whatever they wanted to do.

A year after, today I asked myself, ‘am I happy as a priest? Have I made a good decision a year ago? The simple answered came to me immediately is - YES. The ‘YES’ which I said to the Society of Jesus in 2002, I continue to say till today.

One year as priest was not always ‘bed of roses.’ I vividly remember just after my ordination a young lady telling me, ‘I do not look at the priests anymore. They are all sinners.’ I did not have any answer to give her. She had her own reason to tell me that. I just smiled at her. I remember another elderly man telling me, ‘if you are not capable of doing any work just get ordained. You will enjoy to the core.’ These comments definitely made me sad.

But these moments of sadness were nothing compare to all the blessings I received as priest. The hours after hours, I spent at the confession, gave me much joy and consolation. I remember a particular gentleman, who mad confession after 16 years, was crying during confession and hugged me at the end of the confession. I remember another young boy, ‘who is known as a spoilt boy’ touched my feet and wept at the end of the confession. I remember offering four/five masses in a day and feeling exhausted at the end of the day. I remember receiving a call around midnight to visit and bless a dying man. I remember taking Holy Communion to a sick lady who waited to receive Christ for months. There were moments when people trusted me and made me feel that I am one of them. All these happened to me because I am a Priest. These were moments which I will never forget. These were moments which help me to go forward.  And I thank God, for my vocation to the Priesthood. My priesthood is the precious gift I have directly receive from God.

Just a word!

I never knew a simple word could be so powerful! I was unprepared when the whole episode was revealed to me. The other day I was working in the garden with our lay collaborators. Suddenly two elderly women entered in to our campus and walked straight to me. “Father I came to tell you something” she said with a smile on her face.

“Please tell me” was my quick reply.

“My son, who was not going for Mass for the last few years, has recently begun to go for Mass and the credit goes to you” she said in a loud voice.

 “Is it so? How?” I asked rather doubtfully.

“The other day, in the market you called my son bhai (brother) when my son greeted you. He was so taken up by the word ‘bhai’ and decided to go for Mass. He was surprised because he could never expect that a priest address to a lay person as bhai (brother).”

Though I felt little uncomfortable when she was talking to me, but it made me to think how we could reach out to many people just by our simple words. There are people around us who just need a gentle smile, polite word or a loving touch…   

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!

Along the way!

The other day I was about to leave my community for a work to a distance place. As I stepped outside, a boy of aged 14/15 came to me. He came to our vicinity for work roughly a month ago and I met him already a few times. After our initial conversation, I asked him about his work. “I am not able to work for the last few days,” he said.

“Why” I asked.

“I have got terrible problem on my back and I am not able walk properly.”

“Why don't you go to Doctor?”

“I do not have money.”

“Then what will you do?”

 No answer. At that moment I did not have any other option than to open my wallet and give him some money. I had only the traveling expenses with me. I gave him some money and decided to walk half the way as I would not have enough money to take any public transport.

After saying good bye to that boy I got into a bus. In the bus I met a friend of mine with whom I studied many years ago. We began to talk, especially many of our childhood memories. While we were talking, the bus conductor (one who collects bus fare) came to us. Before I could pay my fare, my friend paid for both of us. When I asked him why he paid, he said, “You have given your life for the people. Now it is our moral responsibly to serve you. You just pray for me.”

I was stunned. As a priest, this is what I receive wherever I go. This makes me more humble and helps me to forget about my external needs and to place my trust in ‘HIM’. Perhaps this is an invitation for all of us in the New Year of 2014!

Words without thinking!

Though with a desire to post on my blog I pen these few words but I am not sure either I would be able to post. For the last two weeks I have been visiting different parts of Bangladesh ‘to catch fish’ for the Society of Jesus. At the beginning of my ‘mission’ (we Jesuits like to use this word) I made an attempt to organize my trip. But once I undertook my journey I realized it is quite impossible in Bangladesh to have anything organized and specific. It is altogether a different world. Let me give you just an example.

Today I had to halt my journey due to 48 hours strike called by a political partly. Traveling by public transport on the day of strike could be very danger. Every strike in Bangladesh leads a few human bodies to the graveyard. The havoc it creates is beyond calculation. So I am forced to remain inside four walls.

You might wonder why I should remain inside four walls! You might suggest to visit people, or to watch TV, or to spend (?)time browsing net! It has been raining cats and dogs for the last few days. The non-stop rain has made the muddy road almost ready for paddy cultivation. Then you might suggest what about watching TV! The frequent power-cut (load shedding) is part of daily life. And Internet! We need to have real patient to do something with net! It could easily take ten minutes just to open a mail. It is terribly slow!

My post might look like a negative one! Of course not! I get motivated here. I see hope for the bright future. Oh sorry I forget to tell you something about the place. I am residing in a Jesuit community. ‘Jesuit community’ might be a wrong word as there is only one Jesuit priest residing here. He is the parish priest as well as the director of the school He does not complain about anything. He is relatively young and by now got used to the situation.

I made an excuse that I could not go out due to rain. Then what about those tiny kids who come for class in the same campus where I am now. From the window of my room I see them sitting in the class rooms. This morning I talked with some of them. They do not complain about anything. They want to study. I wonder how many of them would be able to continue their studies. Some of them will have to leave school due to poverty! Their struggle inspires me...

I must stop here. Electricity will go off anytime. Let me make an effort to post it on my blog.

(At Bhobanipur, Rajshahi, Bangladesh)