Bond with the final resting place


















The Final resting place!!!

 As with most of the Sakthikulangarites, there’s this special bond that I share with St. John de Britto and thus far very strong. The more you find reasons both silly and grave to leave your homeland the more HE tugs at you to stay. You can put forward 101 justifications to leave but one reason to return and that’s HIM. “John Britto de mannu vittittu evide pokana”, the usual catchphrase that you get to hear with a deep sigh from the mommies around.

While still a kid and away from Sakthikulangara land, I used to witness these discussions between the parents which sometimes end in arguments. The father for being where we were reasoning better facilities and education and the good of the children and the mother yearning to be back with her kith and kin which mostly ends in tears and a statement “enikku ente punyalante mannil jeevicha mathi”. Little did I know then, how this punyalan is going to play a part in my life too.

He played with the naming of newborns and decision makings and healings in almost every household. Over a period of time, every boy child was named, John Britto, or John or Britto. He had my mother too to name her youngest after him, my maternal grandfather was a John, my father in law had a John to his name and so does my son too.

Apart from the July/Aug and Christmas holiday trips home, feast of St. John de Britto is an excuse to make a short trip down for most of us living away from home…homecoming of the expats and students returning home for short stint to celebrate the feast creates much of the hustle bustle in town for a short period. It’s also time for mending relationships too, time to reconcile with your brother, hug and make up just like that…. I had witnessed a couple of them myself…and the elders thank punyalan for bringing them together again….

I simply love being in my church, I can spend endless hours in there. I love it when it’s quiet, just to sit leaning on one of those massive pillars gazing at the altar, the huge statue of Mother Mary, St. Joseph, and back again at the crucifix above the altar. An overwhelming coolness descends over you, the hurricanes in your mind calms, at peace and oblivious of your surroundings for as much as you want you can be there, it’s very difficult to describe your feelings then.


Each holiday period, the homecoming will be complete only if you have attended the holy mass in there, visited the cemetery, and prayed for the souls of your beloved ones. It’s yet another feast time, yearning to be on the ground, feel the throb, be part of it…

Was quite perturbed when I heard of the plans for a new church, why would we want one? What’s wrong with the one we have? Why should we spend crores on a structure to call it church when that is not what is important in the eyes of the Lord. We are the church, we the community forms the church and not the structure, instead of turning around and looking amongst us and helping the less fortunate, why waste all that on rocks and bricks for pomp and show…

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