Saturday 14 February 2015

BOOK REVIEW BOTH NAKED AND LIBERAL

(“The Naked Liberal, an Anthology of George Menezes”, edited by Selma Carvalho, published by Cinnamon Teal Publishing, Goa, pages 209, price Rs 295/-)
Naked, liberal, George Menezes, Goa – enough to get most men salivating! The last time I saw a cover page of naked, liberal Goa it was when that “dirty old man” Khushwant Singh was the editor of “The Illustrated Weekly of India” way back in the 1970s. The full blown cover had a young firangi couple adorned with a minimal display of flowers that revealed more than they concealed! The image endures to this day.
George Menezes (GM) is also an old man now, but not dirty. He is Goan, speaks the naked truth and is unabashedly liberal in his thinking. There are several photographs in the book, but not of Khushwant’s genre. Nevertheless, there is enough to tempt, tease and titillate. One has to sometimes read between the lines to bare the truth, as in his relationships with Klaudia in Germany and Helena in America, or to understand his observation about the refugee woman with the “small firm breasts” bathing outside his apartment window.
This book though is far from voyeurism. It is a voyage, taking one back to GM’s early days on a little island called Divar in Goa’s halcyon days. It talks about his father, Professor Armando Menezes, a rationalist cum nationalist, a renowned professor of English literature, who made poets like Shelley and Keats come alive. It talks of his diminutive and devoted mother, and the incompatibility of his parents’ marriage. “My father was a six-foot something, a towering intellectual with an equally towering temper. My mother was five-foot-nothing, patient, soft spoken and gentle as a dove”. But then, isn’t incompatibility the spice of life? And GM has had more than his share of “Sugar & Spice”, nasty and nice; as so often portrayed in his columns over the years.
This anthology of GM’s writings is edited by Selma Carvalho, head of the British Goans project in the U.K. Pardon me for saying that I am seldom enamoured of NRI commentaries on Indian culture or ethos. This is what the editor says, “It is in the dark, dank recesses of family vaults which have long been neglected … that rich treasures are to be found; where the apocryphal can be weeded out and replaced with the truth of a livid experience”. Ouch, is this some kind of a journey into Roman catacombs or Egyptian tombs? Fortunately not. The editor, however, redeems herself by quoting Armando Menezes that “behind all the books, there is a man, and the man is worth more than all the books”. She adds that, nevertheless, “We are reticent to pry into the lives of our authors”.
GM dispenses with this reticence by himself allowing us to pry into his life – to go beyond the words, to the man himself. That is what I like most about GM, his world beyond his words. He has obviously inherited from his father a mastery over language, both poetry and prose. Infact, even his prose is poetic, and he uses poetic licence to score quite a few points, but without being licentious. His is a unique genre of words, verbs and verse; rhyme and reason; a flavour for every season.
The book itself has various sections on the family roots, colonial and liberated Goa, Bombay, his poetry, and an all embracing section on “Man, Politics and Religion”. My personal acquaintance with GM, for 27 years, falls in the last category, which I thought would interest me the most. It didn’t, perhaps because I already knew what was being articulated. But it would still be of abiding interest to those who aren’t so familiar with GM.
For me, the really endearing part of the anthology was being privy, without having to pry, to GM’s personal relationships – be they with his parents, his wife Thecla (so beautiful even in suffering), his children and grandchildren, and even with his mysterious lady friends! It is here that he truly merits the title of The Naked Liberal.
The experiences in France, Germany, the U.K. and the U.S.A. are enthralling Рhis mistakenly standing in the wrong line, and getting free bread from a soup kitchen; or the corruption that he encountered when posted as the Airforce Attach̩ to France.
At a personal level I share a wee disappointment. GM was elected National President of the All India Catholic Union in 1986, and hand-picked me to be his successor in 1990. But the book is strangely silent on this eventful chapter of his life. In a future edition I do hope that another chapter will be added.
GM’s self-deprecating humour, something that endears a writer to his readers, is evident in his epilogue “Watching my own Passing Away”. It depicts his imaginary funeral. There were only three persons present – a frustrated money-lender, a jilted lover and a cop looking for the dead body! Great men are those who can belittle themselves, and yet extract a laugh, not a sigh of sympathy.

There is much more that I could write in this review. But it would be better if you got your own copy and read this anthology for yourself. It’s worth the money honey, or sonny, as the case may be. I conclude in George Menezes’ French idiom, that “The Naked Liberal” is indeed au courant. 

NOT-A GOOD IDEA?

None of the Above” (NOTA) seems to be the flavour of the season; with jurists, activists and analysts all jumping on to the NOTA bandwagon. They would have us believe, as the jingle for a mobile phone company goes, “What an idea sirji”. But does this really ring true in the body politic?
I have been actively engaged with a motley group of civic activists, who range from Gandhian to Marxist in their ideology. I have heard them call for the Right to Reject (RTR) ad nauseum. But I have never found it to be such a good idea sirji. What do the proponents of NOTA/RTR say that has influenced the Supreme Court (SC) judgment?
The proponents claim that it will spur political parties to change their ways about the selection of candidates. It will have a deterrent effect on them and impose self-discipline. Some parties may actually be relieved that they now have a readymade excuse to deny tickets to undesirable elements. The no-sayers will have their identity kept secret, and won’t have to fill up the cumbersome Form No 49(O) at the polling booths. Those who had earlier chosen not to vote, or voted under duress for a lesser evil, would now have another alternative. This is the death knell for TINA (there is no alternative). It could also prevent bogus voting against the names of those who otherwise may not have turned up at the hustings. All this sounds wonderful on paper. What of the ground reality?
Though I do not belong to any political party, and have, over the years, voted for various political parties/ persons, I have nevertheless been involved in voter awareness programmes, and also electoral politics. Hence I see the ground realities somewhat differently.
The only person who seems to have openly opposed the NOTA/RTR judgment is Somnath Chatterjee, former Speaker of the Lok Sabha, a 10-time MP, and an SC lawyer himself. He says that the SC is “indulging in sensationalism”. Is the SC being swayed by public opinion or by sound jurisprudence? I am not a legal eagle, but I would agree with Chatterjee that the SC is indulging in judicial overreach, and encroaching on the role of the legislature. Chatterjee questions, “How can suggestions be given without considering the repercussions?”
Why do people vote in India? Committed voters tend to vote along caste or communal lines. Very few have an independent political ideology. As for those who vote along party lines, they will continue to do so, regardless. One cannot expect a major “swing” among such voters. This leaves us with the undecided or non-voting electorate. Some of the undecided could be impelled to vote if there is a major issue at stake, like the Emergency in 1977, or the Ramjanambhoomi movement in 1996.
However, NOTA/RTR is specifically addressed to those who are disinclined to vote, for whatever reasons. They could have a general apathy or specific antipathy to those standing for elections. I do not see significant numbers of this section of voters being enthused by NOTA/RTR, more so if it has no impact on the electoral outcome. In its present form NOTA/RTR is a toothless tiger, based more on rhetoric than sound reasoning. It would have teeth only if such a vote was the highest, and the verdict annulled, or the candidates disqualified. I don’t see this happening, and parliament will never allow it. It therefore serves no useful purpose, other than as an expression of angst against the political class; of which we already have enough in the social, print and electronic media, thanks largely to Anna Hazare.
I also do not see NOTA/RTR having a major impact, unless there is a concerted effort in a given constituency in a particular election. Who is going to mobilize such massive public opinion against the established political parties?  Arvind Kejriwal, who once advocated the RTR, has himself joined the political establishment! So who is going to bell the cat? Assuming, without admitting, that such a super-person exists, would it not be better for such a person/ organization to choose a good candidate instead, and mobilize positive public opinion, instead of futile negativism?
What of the other dangers, which have already been expressed? What if extremists/ terrorists/ Maoists issue a diktat to a frightened electorate to use NOTA/RTR? What will then happen to the legitimate democratic process? In Kashmir this could even invite international ridicule. Hasn’t Gen V.K. Singh already done his bit by crossing the line of actual verbal control?
Let not the medicine be worse than the disease. The true and positive solution lies in creating greater voter awareness, and in speaking up against corruption, criminalisation, caste and communal politics. This is no doubt an arduous task, but there are no short cuts in sight. Instead of criticizing the existing political parties, one should join their ranks to impact them, or like Kejriwal, float one’s own party if one has the will and the wherewithal.
I, for one, am certainly not impressed by the NOTA/RTR in its present form, nor do I see it as a game changer in Indian politics. It is not such a good idea, Sirji!
·         The writer is a Kanpur based social activist.
SEPTEMBER 2013



THE FLYING ELEPHANT

We were sitting around the wooden bench that served as our dining table.  The room was an all-weather one – hot in summer, cold in winter, and water everywhere during the rains; and sipping our jaggery tea (sugar too expensive) from enamel tin mugs.  Outside was thick bamboo, after which Bans (bamboo) Bareilly is named.  Flocks of peafowl pranced around.  This was Jyotiniketan Ashram.
Swami Deenabandhu (Fr. Augustine Lobo OFM Cap) sipped his tea with one hand and swished a wicker fan with the other.  He was talking about how simple St Thomas Aquinas was.  A scholastic had once told him that a horse was flying, and Aquinas looked out to see it!  He would rather believe that a horse could fly, than that a man would lie. Just then I shouted, “Father, Look at that elephant flying behind you”.  He turned immediately.  All of us laughed.  The fact remained, that Father believed.  He believed in me, he believed in man, he believed in God, he believed in the impossible. Now his credo is fulfilled.  On the 13th May, he passed on to the heavenly shore, at the ripe age of 80.  What is so special about the man?  His story speaks for itself.
Born in 1911 in Permude, South Kanara, he was ordained a diocesan priest in Mangalore in 1935.  Three years after his ordination, he joined the Capuchin Order, then known for its austerity.  For several years he was a pastor, seminary professor, novice master, etc.  But another call came.  In 1971, at the age of 60, when most people have retirement plans, he took another courageous step forward.  He left the relative comfort of the monastery to live in Jyotiniketan Ashram, Bareilly.  This ashram was starkly frugal – no electricity or running water, self-cooking with firewood, vegetarian meals, and a routine of 5 sessions of daily prayer.  Enough to frighten timid souls.  Swamiji was the Acharya for 20 blessed years.  The ashram was his life’s fulfillment, though his services went beyond its confines.
Having lived with Swamiji in Jyotiniketan for seven grace-filled years, perhaps I knew and understood him very closely.  It is now my filial duty to keep his message alive. Firstly, I would term him a “spirit-filled” person.  Jesus said that those born of the Spirit are like the wind.  You do not know where it is coming from or where it is going (cf Jn 3:8). Swamiji was like that, most unpredictable, and not something to be bottled up.  His life contrasts with those who, when ordained, think that they have arrived; or when they celebrate their silver jubilee, feel that they have done enough. At 60 it is not easy to learn to cook, to learn another language, or to make do without basic amenities like electricity.  Being spirit-filled, he was a holy man.  When hospitalized, those attending on him felt holiness exuding from him. When he left the hospital they felt a void.
His holiness made him humble.  He never considered himself a Guru, but an ordinary friar (brother) like St Francis of Assisi.  This humility made him accessible to all – lepers, dalits and the spiritually or economically marginalized.  It also made him serviceable.  He could never say no to a person in distress.  People took undue advantage of his goodness.  But he would counter criticism by saying, “I would rather be fooled a hundred times, than turn one deserving case away unattended.”  Indeed Swamiji was simple to the core, the simplicity that the pure of heart have, those that can see God (cf Mat 5:8).
Though no specialist in any Indian spirituality he was authentically Indian.  A bishop who tended to frown on forms of inculturation, on seeing Jyotiniketan said, “This is truly Indian, where there is no dichotomy between life and worship“. Thereafter he encouraged several others to visit.
This authenticity also found expression in Swami Deenabandhu’s ecumenical vision.  On the one hand he was fully Catholic – faithfully praying the breviary, or encouraging confession, which are no longer ”fashionable”.  On the other hand his approach to other Christians was one of brotherhood and equality.  There were no signs of triumphalism or “We are the chosen few” syndrome.  Christians of all denominations felt equally at ease in Jyotiniketan.  Perhaps this was also a legacy of Rev Murray Rogers, the founder of Jyotiniketan.  He was an Anglican pastor, who with his wife Mary had founded the ashram, and later made way for Swamiji, himself moving on to Jerusalem.
In the funeral oration the Capuchin Provincial observed that most people’s greatness is discovered only gradually after their death.  It is most appropriate for Swamiji.  His life should speak more eloquently in death.  There are two things that could be singled out – one for the Religious, the other for the Laity.
For him priesthood wasn’t the peak, religious life was; to live the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience. His poverty was heroic, having no personal possessions.  His khadi cassock was worn and frayed.  The village cobbler made his sandals of tyre rubber.  His celibacy gave him the capacity to love more, not less.  He was truly affectionate, and always had brotherly love for women.  It is so difficult to love somebody of the opposite sex, without sexual overtones.  But he had this unique quality, which Jesus called a gift that is not for everybody (cf Mat 19:11). Obedience meant doing God’s Will, as Jesus did, so he was ever-willing to accept the authority of others, who were much younger and less accomplished.  For him obedience was a liberating experience, not a hindrance.  His authentic religious life made him a popular retreat preacher and spiritual advisor to several congregations.
As a layman, my endearing experience of Swamiji was his attitude towards the laity.  In our seven years together, I never felt a second-class citizen.  In the true sprit of Vatican II he regarded the laity as equals.  He did not have the paternalistic father – son relationship, but the fraternal one.  He also strongly believed that the clergy should stick to the parameters of their vocation – instruction, worship and community building; and not encroach on or usurp the role of the laity in the social-economic and political fields.  He always spoke of married life in glowing terms, as a beautiful gift.  A far cry from St Paul telling his people, that if you can’t be celibate then go and marry; some kind of condescension or compromise (cf 1 Cor 7:25-40).
Swamiji’s greatness made him so much more human.  He could laugh loudly, especially if the joke was on himself.  I remember the time somebody gave him a shampoo bottle for his long hair.  Presuming it to be hair oil, he applied it after his bath!  The best was when he made coffee for a departing English guest on a misty winter morning.  By lamplight he put chilly powder for coffee and rice instead of sugar in the cup! Poor Englishman.
Swami Deenabandhu has gone forward into eternity. His life and values are an everlasting testimony, that for one who believes – in God, in Man, in the Church - nothing is impossible.  Even elephants can fly.
(This piece was originally written in 1991, at his passing on. It is being reprinted now as his life and testimony warrant it)

SEPTEMBER 2013





DOCTOR GOOD GRAFT

Graft, or bribery, has been India’s bane. The graft that I am writing about is a boon to India’s suffering millions. It is called allograft, and its pioneer in India is Dr Astrid Lobo Gajiwala, the Head of the Tissue Bank at the Tata Memorial Hospital (TMH), Mumbai. Simply put, allograft is a process by which tissue from another human being is applied or implanted in the patient in need of it. This is different from an autograft, where the patient’s own bone or skin tissue is used.

The availability of autografts is limited. For example, in a child who is still growing, it would be clinically improper to take its own good bone tissue, to apply it somewhere else. Besides adding a surgical procedure, it is also traumatic for the child, and could even affect the future growth of its good bones. Similarly, if a patient has severe burns or ulcers, it would again be inadvisable to take some skin from the patient to apply it to the affected area.

On the other hand, some surgeons have experimented with biological tissues from pigs and cows (even heart valves), but they have a high degree of rejection by the human body’s immunological system. There are also religious inhibitions to such grafts. Synthetic tissues, or even metal prosthetics like hip or knee joints, are good to a degree. But they too degenerate through wear and tear, resulting in another replacement or replenishment.

Here is where Doctor Good Graft steps in, to literally stem the breach in the human anatomy – be it a gap in the bones caused by accident or infection, or covering large tracts of burnt skin.  A couple of months ago India Today, a leading weekly magazine, carried a story on Dr Astrid’s work. She was counted among the ten game changers of India; one whose work was dramatically changing peoples’ lives. Having read the story I decided to interview the game changer in her laboratory at TMH. This petite doctor (a Ph D in medicine) has an appetite for big things. She has transformed the lives of thousands of suffering patients through her research and its clinical applications. Going beyond borders, she was also the President of the Asia Pacific Association of Surgical Tissue Banks.

What is it about allografts that make them a game changer and a lifesaver? Autografts, synthetic or metal surgical implants (prosthetics) have their limitations; besides being painful, expensive and time consuming. The converse is true for allografts. They are cheap, quick and long lasting, as human tissue has the innate power to regenerate itself.

This raises two questions. From where does one get these allografts, and how safe are they? They are obtained from various sources – cadavers, amputated limbs or other surgical discards, within a particular time frame of death or surgery. Permission of the patient or next of kin is obtained for literally “recycling the body parts” as Dr Astrid observes with an infectious smile. Infection, ooh! That is eradicated by sterilization, radiation and other processes, to render the allografts completely safe for use on another person.

Bone tissue is a wonder worker for filling gaps in a bone after fracture, or holes caused by cysts, even in the jawbones. Dentists, infact, are among the major users of bone tissue. Since it regenerates naturally it serves as a platform or framework for natural bone to grow around it and thereby plug the gap. There are even cases of patients with bone cancer, who after an allograft, are walking again and living normal lives. 

Doctor Good Graft has another goodie in her kitty – amnion, another of nature’s wonders. The amniotic membrane is the inner lining of the sac that protects and envelops a baby while in its mother’s womb. After delivery or surgery it is either ejected or removed. This membrane is then clinically sterilized, processed and freeze dried. It is a gossamer-like membrane, like the wings of a dragonfly. In the case of severe burns, diabetic ulcers or bedsores it is not always possible to do a skin graft. But an amnion dressing can be easily applied. The beauty is that the surgeon can monitor the healing process because of the transparency of the membrane. He doesn’t have to apply or remove bandages that could even damage the delicately healing wound. And wonder of wonders, having done its work the amnion just dries up and falls off naturally, like a snake’s skin. Nature’s wonders and scientific achievements never cease.

This amniotic tissue can also be used for healing of skin reactions caused by radiation in cancer treatment. Since it is paper thin it assumes the body’s contours, and is even used on that most delicate organ of the human body, the eye.

Yet the work of this great game changer is relatively unknown outside the scientific fraternity. Even the widely circulated India Today story did not fuel interest in this scientific advancement; despite its painless benefits, cheaper process and faster healing. Hence I felt the need to make this story better known.

Incidentally, Astrid’s husband, Dr Kalpesh Gajiwala is himself a renowned plastic surgeon in Mumbai. He too has pioneered the use of tissue from his wife’s bank! It is not an issue with this couple, as together they strive to make this world a better place through wholeness, healing and the alleviation of suffering.

A coin must have two sides to be legal tender. So too with this activist for gender. Besides being a topnotch scientist she is also a feminist theologian. Her resume of church related activities, and positions held in the Catholic Church, runs into several pages. As a writer she has also received awards from The Examiner (Mumbai) and The New Leader (Chennai). Interviewing Astrid at TMH, I was able to go beyond the gossamer membrane (to get under the skin, in investigative journalism parlance), from the scientist to the feminist!

Sharing her thoughts on several burning or contentious issues she said that she did not find any incompatibility between faith and science. The latter was still fathoming the human body in a voyage of discovery. But scientists should not try to play God. Science, by virtue of its immense potential, cannot be left unbridled. It must have a purpose, and a code of ethics. Today any form of research on human beings, and even animals for that matter, has to be approved by an ethics committee; just like an industrial project requires environmental clearance.

For Astrid her work was an expression of her deep Christian faith. It was improving the quality of peoples’ lives, a fulfillment of what Jesus envisaged, in his reply to John The Baptist: “Go back and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind see again, the lame walk, those suffering from virulent skin diseases are cleansed” (Lk 7:22).

On being queried if scientists or theologians could determine the exact moment when human life begins, she admitted that it was a nebulous state, with no scientifically precise answer. Life and death still had many unanswered questions. Though science and faith are not contradictory, if they both strive for truth, there could still be nebulous grey areas of conflict, especially where the biological sciences are concerned.

Contraception and abortion are some such areas. Astrid’s attention was drawn to the Catholic Church’s Canon Law that states, “A person who actually procures an abortion incurs a latae sententiae ex-communication” (Can 1398), that is one “that is automatically incurred on committing an offence, without intervention of a judge”. The reply was fast and furious. “Men don’t understand motherhood or conception. They make moral exceptions to justify war, which is also the taking of life. This is because both the theologians and the Generals are men. They understand the business of war, but they don’t understand motherhood”. If there can be situational ethics for war, then why not for abortion? Though in principle one is against abortion, there could be exceptional or mitigating circumstances where culpability is limited, she said. A cogent argument. It is along the same lines that Astrid debunked the Church’s unilateral rejection of any form of artificial contraception, which she felt was a better option, than having to resort to abortion.

Since Astrid is on several Church bodies and advisory committees she was asked about her experience in them. Was the hierarchy willing to listen to the voice of the laity? She had mixed reactions. A lot depended on one’s personal approach. It was like tight rope walking. One had to keep one’s balance. “If the hierarchy perceivers you as an opponent they will ostracize you, but if you are seen as one working for the good of the church they will listen to you”, she opined. She herself has been part of a feminist collective working on women’s issues. They act as a support group to each other, and do have an impact on the church.

She disagreed with the common perception that only those “who tow the party line” get appointed to church bodies. Her own experience was that she had often asked uncomfortable questions, but she still got called. She has just worked on a redressal mechanism for sexual abuse by church personnel, and a code of conduct. It has been submitted to the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of India. It remains to be seen if the bishops heed the advice of their women appointees.

This, despite another common perception, that our bishops are far more comfortable interacting with women, rather than male lay leaders. At this point Astrid felt that this may be because the bishops perceive women as more servile and subservient. As for another contentious issue, the ordination of women, Astrid said that she had actually lost interest, especially because of how priesthood is lived today – more institutional than people oriented.

She felt that a woman’s priorities are different – be it family, birth, or life. Women have much to contribute to the church, because they are more person, or relationship oriented, not structured like men. “It is a challenge to be a Christian, and even more as a woman in the church. But women shall not be found wanting” she affirmed.

Visiting Doctor Good Graft at her Tissue Bank at TMH was an enlightening and fascinating experience. Dr Astrid Lobo Gajiwala, the scientist, or the feminist, is in a league of her own. Wonder if her Tissue Bank could clone some of her own tissue, for the rest of us mortals to bank on? Indeed graft, allograft, is a boon for the country’s suffering millions.

OCTOBER 2013



COOL BISHOP IN HOT SEAT


With his boyish looks, dimpled cheeks and darting eyes, he looks a cool customer that belies his 55 years. Bishop Raphy Manjaly of Varanasi diocese was transferred to the hot seat of Allahabad, and installed as its bishop on 3rd December, the feast of St Francis Xavier, as also World Disabled Day! The significance should not be lost on us. The hot seat of Allahabad needed a cool and able bishop to get it back on track, as the diocese’s track record speaks for itself (see table).

In the last 50 years Allahabad has almost always received a bishop transferred from another diocese. Bp Raymond D’mello came from Mangalore, Bp Alfred Fernandes from Shimla-Chandigarh, and Bp Baptist Mudartha from Jhansi. The sole exception was the previous incumbent, Bp Isidore Fernandes, who had to ignominiously resign earlier this year, for committing the cardinal error of consecrating a Protestant bishop. As per Canon 1382 this attracts a latae sententiae (no discussion) ex-communication. He got off rather lightly. In the 1970’s Bp Alfred Fernandes had also resigned from the see of Allahabad, perhaps because it was too hot to handle!

Why is Allahabad such a hot seat? Established in 1876, it is one of the oldest dioceses in the North. It covers 12 civil districts, which have a population of 31 million. Geographically, the diocese is 500 kms from one end to the other. The table below gives an idea of what the new bishop is up against. Will he be able to turn the tide?

Bp Raphy is the third of seven children of the late M.V. and Catherine Chacko of Trichur diocese in Kerala. He joined the Agra diocese and then became the rector of the regional seminary at Allahabad before becoming the bishop of Varanasi in 2007. Earlier he had done his doctoral studies from Rome.

I first met Raphy 37 years ago when he was still a teenaged seminarian. While studying philosophy he found Bultman’s rationalization of faith difficult to swallow. Questions went a begging. Another oddity was that the then archbishop of Agra, Dominic Athaide OFM Cap, expected all his seminarians to play the piano. That was not Raphy’s forte! So Abp Athaide sent him to Fr Augustine Deenabandhu OFM Cap at Jyotiniketan Ashram, Bareilly. That is where we met, and Raphy shared with me some of his doubts and hopes.

At that time we received a request to minister to some Catholics scattered in remote villages of neighbouring Shajahanpur and Pilibhit districts. These people were dalit migrants from Punjab, who had come as serfs of the rich Sikh farmers. We spent the next ten wintry days in their midst, accompanied by the catechist Garibdas. We had one cycle and the harmonium between us. It was a mutually enriching experience, as we traversed fields and streams, sharing God’s word and singing his praises. I recall a chilly night in Garibdas’ mud and straw hut adjacent to a stream. Since there was not enough bedding we had to cover ourselves with straw to keep warm. Shades of the Babe in Bethlehem. In the course of conversation Garibdas said that he would do anything I asked of him. Jokingly I asked him to go bathe in the freezing stream. He did so. Out of shame I too joined him. We then had to light a straw fire to get our circulation back. I would love to believe that this unique experience had a positive impact on the young Raphy.

Years later when he was on the staff of the Allahabad seminary I visited him, and asked him over breakfast, who the rector was. With a demure smile he pointed to himself. He was still a boyish 41. A couple of years later when I had a serious complaint against my errant parish priest, he took up the matter with the bishop, at my request. So I hold Bp Raphy in high esteem and believe that the Holy Spirit has chosen the right man for the hot seat of Allahabad. As Acharya Anildev IMS of Matridham Ashram, Varanasi says, “Bp Raphy is a noble and gentle soul”.

Why is Allahabad such a hot seat? The indices in the Table are indicative of the same. Despite an influx of migrants from Kerala and Chhotanagpur, and normal population growth, there has actually been negative growth of the Catholic population. In 2013 it is down to 11,180 from 12,540 in 2003 and 12,650 in 2005. This, despite a high priest to population ratio of 1:169, and an increase in the number of active clergy. According to Ignatian discernment one’s strength can become one’s weakness. Despite Vatican II’s call for destructuring and de-institutionalization, the diocese has doubled its institutional strength between 1969 and 2013. Conversely, the ratio of Catholic students has dropped by 75%. With a Catholic population of 11,180 the student population at 40% would be about 4,472, of which just 1,385 are in Catholic schools. This means that 7 out of 10 of the student population is not in our own schools. Isn’t this a wake up call?

Look at the figures for what were once flourishing mission stations like Dostpur and Mudila. There has been large-scale apostasy. The oldest extant church at Chunar, built in 1845, has just 77 Catholics after 168 years. Most of them would be migrants. The Catholic Directory of 1969 has the names of prominent lay leaders as directors of diocesan commissions. Not so today. Is the laity not to be trusted? Kanpur city alone accounts for 37% of the Catholics. There are hardly any in the numerous mission stations in rural areas. The Catholic Church’s presence is negligible.

Small wonder then that Bp Gerald Mathias from neighbouring Lucknow diocese observed that there are very few missionaries today, and those who are there, are poorly motivated. Earlier, Abp Salvatore Pinnacchio, the Papal Nuncio, had said, “the church grows by attraction”. What if there is no attraction? There won’t be any growth. And if growth is negative it means that there is revulsion to the church in its present form.

Thousands of people, bishops, priests and religious thronged the grounds of St Joseph’s College for the installation ceremony presided over by Abp Albert D’souza of Agra. The caretaker administrator, retired Bp Ignatius Menezes and his team had made elaborate arrangements for a meaningful celebration.

But we scribes (not pharisees) will always find something wrong somewhere! This was during the offertory procession, with symbols from different parts of the diocese. There was coal from the collieries adjoining Jharkhand, grain from a rural mission station, and workers’ tools from industrial Kanpur. Allahabad city offered Gangajal, the sacred waters of the Ganga. Allahabad is situated at the confluence (sangam) of the Ganga and Jamuna rivers, the venue of the biggest religious congregation in the world, the Mahakumbh. Many of the laity and clergy were askance at the offering of Gangajal in Catholic liturgy. I felt that it was an insult to Hinduism on the one hand, and contrary to the Christian understanding of salvation on the other.

Another incongruity. Pope Francis has asked priests and nuns to switch from big cars to cycles. There were several big cars parked, but I didn’t see any cycles. But I did see a Vijayanta tank and a MIG 21 fighter on the ground; gifts from college alumni, including Air Chief Marshal N.A.K. Browne. Should a “shepherd” be installed in the shadow of symbols of war? Would not the “sheep” run away?

The cool, able, gentle, noble Bp Raphy Manjaly has his task cut out for him, as he now settles in to the hot seat of Allahabad diocese. On behalf of the laity of the diocese this writer assures him of his full support and co-operation. Hopefully 3rd December 2013 will be remembered in Allahabad diocese as the day of St Francis Xavier, the zealous missionary, and not as a disability.

Comparative Data on Allahabad Diocese

 From the Catholic Directories of 1969 & 2013

Head
1969
2013
Growth
Observations
Total Population
11,000,000
30,945,000
181%

Catholic Population
7,920
11,180
41%
1/4th of population growth above
Kanpur City
2495
4126
65%
1/3rd of population growth despite parishes increasing from 3 to 6
Allahabad City
1860
2042
10%
Nothing grows in the shadow of the oak tree
Dostpur Mission
2013
180
- 91%
Large scale apostasy
Mudila Mission
752
61
- 92%
Large scale apostasy
Theresapur Mission
38
1 family
- 90%
Help!
Lapta Mission
10
-
-
Apparently abandoned
Chunar Church
24
77
221%
Built in 1845
Active clergy
53
88
66%

Clergy/ Catholics Ratio
1:240
1:169
- 30%
Increasing clericalization
Schools
33
66
100%
Exceeds all other parameters
Students
13950
52804
278%
Disproportionately high
Catholic students
1033
1385
34%
Even less than growth of Catholic population
Percentage of Catholic students
7.5
2.6
- 65%
Increasingly being pushed to a corner










                                                                                       

HOW CHRISTMAS EVOLVED

This is not a cleverly googled piece on the evolution of Christmas trees, cards and Santa Claus. It is about how my own Christmases have evolved over the past 62 years of my existence. I am telling it as it was.

My childhood in Kanpur was a privileged one, as was Christmas then. At the tender age of 7 I was bundled off to an elite boarding school in the hills. After 9 months of jail we headed home in the first week of December for a three-month long winter vacation. In those days, unlike today, the schools in the plains also closed at about the same time, so we had enough time to “prepare” for Christmas.

Psychologists tell us that a child experiences love through receiving; and that was my childhood experience of Christmas, valid in itself. Other than the gifts, the enduring memory is of my mother and grandmother’s culinary skills, and the “collaboration” of my father together with us 4 kids.

My mother was a master chef, long before the term became au courant. Not just plum cake and plum pudding burnt with brandy; there were Turkish delights, lemon tarts, meringues, macaroons et al. Grandmother made the traditional Goan sweets like bebinca, dodol and chonechi dose. Long before the advent of glitzy malls, we had caviar, anchovy, pate de foie gras, Gorgonzola cheese and Firpos chocolates for Christmas. Dad’s contribution (he was 27 years older than my mother) was to sit in the sun with us kids pretending to clean the raisins and nuts for the cake, with a large quantity mysteriously disappearing enroute!

Psychologists further tell us that youth experience love through searching. For me it took the form of shikar. We had to have a graylag goose (a winter migrant from Siberia) for Christmas lunch. My uncle would also drive down in his Chevrolet V8 Fleetmaster to a remote village hundreds of miles away to get turkeys. I accompanied him one year. There were about a dozen turkeys in a basket on the carrier. When we stopped at a roadside tea stall some of the bemused villagers, who had never seen a turkey before, wondered where we were taking so many vultures! In those days shikar also meant getting bluebull meat for making hunter, a form of salt meat. There would also be a hind leg of pork soaked in beer for a month and pierced with cloves, to make succulent ham.

Christmas day was always hectic, with a constant stream of visitors. We seldom got to eat lunch, and still don’t. As I grew older I discovered that my mother also made an exotic array of wines and liqueurs. Sherry was the preferred wine, while Crème de Menthe, Green Chartreuse and Drambui were the choice of liqueurs. Ironically, Dad was a teetotaler.

As a teenager I gradually became aware that there was more to Christmas than feasting. From the bake I evolved to the Babe in Bethlehem with the eternal message “Peace to men of goodwill”. That is when I started making the crib, an elaborate affair with earth, grass and running water, depicting the birth of Jesus. It would take three days to construct. I took great pride in that crib, exhibiting it to all our visitors.

Life changed dramatically after my father died. I was still a teenager. A year later I moved to Mumbai, as I had fallen in love with a girl, and consequently fallen out with my mother. My first salary in Mumbai, in the shadow of the Bangladesh war, was a princely Rs 100/-. With that I bought gifts for others. I was discovering that as an adult love meant not just receiving or searching, but now it was sharing. The next Christmas my mother invited me home. That was 1972. I rode my Bullet 350 cc from Mumbai to Kanpur (1300 kms) in the bitter cold. Back then there were no mobiles, GPS systems, or even petrol pumps. It was both risky and adventurous, as my life then was. When I reached home after two days of hard riding I was so stiff with the cold that it took me 24 hours to straighten up. It was a thrilling ride and a chilling Christmas.

Life took another dramatic turn 3 years later, when I met Jesus. Till then I had been “exhibiting” him at Christmas. I was now beginning to experience him. I left home again to live for 7 years in a Christian ashram in a village outside Bareilly. The ashram had no electricity; it had mud walls and floors, asbestos sheet roofing, and wire meshing instead of windows. Winter was bitterly cold, but Christmas there set my heart on fire. At midnight we would trudge to the small chapel holding our kerosene lanterns and huddled in blankets. We experienced the stark poverty of the Manger, surrounded by straw and cattle, and the shepherds minding their flocks. Christmas was a real incarnation of the divine. Together with the local youth I would organize a Christmas tableau in the neighbouring villages. We had two petromax lanterns for arc lights, and a durrie for our stage. Under the canopy of the stars, Christmas was truly a silent night.

Life then took another turn, as I had to return home to sort out family problems. I settled in like a domesticated fowl. In 1990 I was elected the National President of the All India Catholic Union, in which capacity I led a lakh-plus rally at the Boat Club lawns in Delhi, demanding equal rights for Dalit Christians. I made a clarion call that if the Govt did not concede our legitimate demands by Christmas, we would not celebrate it that year. So we had the Christmas Satyagrah, eschewing all form of celebrations, with the money thus saved going to the Dalit Christian cause. That Christmas was a fight for justice.

Two years later it was the demolition of the Babri Masjid. Till then, our tenants, some of whom paid as little as Rs 7/- per month by way of rent, always came together with a basket of fruit to wish us. They were a mix of Hindus and Muslims. Post Babri, they came separately! The communal divide was complete.

Christmas kept evolving for me. I now began to feel that the message of peace and harmony needed to be emphasized. I got a huge star erected, with the central hexagon painted in the tricolour, with just one word – Peace – written in Hindi, Urdu and English. One year, seeing the bright lights, a cycling duo from Europe rode in, mistaking our house for a church, and seeking shelter for the night. They were treated to a Christmas repast. How could we say to them, “There is no place in the inn”?

Through the Kanpur Catholic Association I now began organizing a Christmas Milan, which was an interfaith prayer for peace, with Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists, Sikhs, Parsis and even Bahais participating. We used the occasion to confer “Shanti Sewak Samman” awards on citizens who had contributed to society. These Milans were mutually enriching.

My saddest Christmas was 3 years ago, when a fictitious criminal case was filed against me over a property dispute. I had to go underground until I obtained a stay order from the High Court. I could not even go to church that year, and had to keep the house locked. That Christmas reminded me of the killing of the innocents by King Herod, and the subsequent flight into Egypt.

Now that most of our friends are civic or social activists, our Christmas menu has also evolved in the changed circumstances. So if you visit us this Christmas you may be served piping hot chhola bhatura and gajar halwa, as we gather around a crackling bonfire. There is something about the cold and Christmas; people are compelled to come closer together to keep warm. As my wife mischievously says, the only reason she got married was to have a warm bed in winter! Ever wondered how those poor souls in the Southern Hemisphere celebrate Christmas in the heat of summer? I pity them!

In life, as in love, the only thing that is constant is change, or evolution. This Christmas be a game changer. Do something different. Think out of the box. Change the parameters. You will have no regrets. Peace be to you and your dear ones at Christmas and the New Year. PEACE – SHANTI – SHALOM – AMMAN.



DECEMBER 2013