Post # 3. at the Church, a Confession #atozchallenge

“ I’ve heard of Dr Mathew. I believe he visits the church on and off,” Fr. Varghese told Shreyasi in the course of their conversation.

“ He does, Father. But not as much as he’d love to. He told me so. He’s at work even on  Fridays. Hardly takes a day off. He comes when he can,” she replied.

Shreyasi had spoken to him that morning over the phone, and he had welcomed her warmly to the Church. He stayed in the small room next to the building that served as the Church, and it was here that he chose to meet her and talk. He was enthusiastic about the seminar that was to be organized at the Kids’ home, and agreed to do it.

Just when the conversation steered to topics like her work, the inmates at the Kids’ Home and the lack of funds for the daily activities of the Church , Robert, Fr Varghese’s assistant, came in with an envelope.

“The cheque is here, Father. Their office boy just brought it in,” he said, handing over the envelope to Fr Varghese.

“Thank you Robert. Can you bring me a new bottle of ink ? Mine’s finished. I want to  write a ‘Thank You’ note now itself,"  Fr Varghese said, opening the envelope with a smile.

Shreyasi looked amused. Someone writing a ‘Thank You’ note in this age of sms and Whatsapp !

“ I always write a short note thanking our benefactors, there’s a charm to the written word that printed or typed words don’t carry. Right or not?”, Father asked her, when he spotted her looking at him with awe.

She nodded.

Robert brought in and kept a new bottle of ink on Fr Varghese’s table, and left as quietly as he had come.

“ A moment please,” Fr Varghese said, as filled his pen, took out a neat letter pad, and started writing something.

She couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering to the cheque that he had kept safe on the table.

A cheque for Twenty Five Thousand Dirhams. Beneath the amount was the signature of the patron.

There was no mistaking it. Neither the ‘A’, nor the ‘C’ in capitals , the letters in between indecipherable from the scribble.

She knew it. She had seen it almost everyday of her life for a very long time, for it to be etched indelibly in her memory.

Aagney Chatterjee.

Fr Varghese cleared his throat when he saw her looking at the cheque. “ One of our greatest supporters, a nice guy ,” he said.

He summoned Robert, and asked him to send the Thank You note to the ‘donor’ and deposit the cheque in the bank.

Shreyasi got up from her seat, as Robert left.

“ I’ll leave too, Father.  I’ll soon get back with the dates for the event and other details. Thanks for all the help”, she said.

“Sure , young lady. Be in touch. And let me know if you need help with anything,” he shook hands with her.

Nodding and smiling, she turned to go.

She took a  few steps , and stopped.

And then, without knowing what made her do that, she , as if in doubt, turned to look at Father again.

“Father, can I ask you something ? ”, she asked.

Fr Varghese had a kind smile when he signaled her to go ahead with her question.

“ Will it be ok if I make a Confession ? I mean, I’m not a Catholic, and I don’t know if only Catholics are allowed to confess. I’d like to confess , even though I wouldn’t know to follow the procedures they usually follow in your religion. Can I  ? ", she asked.

Fr Varghese thought for a moment before answering.

“ We’re open to all, dear. You can confess, by all means. What you tell me there will remain a secret forever. I believe you have something important to share with me ? ", he asked.

She nodded. I need to speak now. I need clarity. I have so many thoughts plaguing me right now.

“Let’s go to the Confessional, then," he said, taking his robe from the hanger and moving out of the room.

She followed.

She knelt down in front of the Confessional, and spoke to him through the curtain that hid the view. She spoke at length, all that she wanted to.

As Fr Varghese blessed her at the end of it, she was sure she’d seen his eyes had a new wave of compassion in them.

As she walked out of the Church, she was clear about one thing - she would succeed in her mission.

Chase me not, my ill fate

I’ll not always swallow your bait

Can you always pull me down ?

Replace my smile with a frown ?

Can’t you see I’m happy to be

Reciting always, ‘I pray to thee’….

Colours are what I’m aiming to get

In life, I’ll win soon, you bet !

To be contd...

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This post has been written for the A to Z Challenge 2015.