Today, for the first time since I arrived in Swansea and began exploring the town on foot, I saw the lights switched on at the Church of St Mary behind my apartment building.
I walked in to find the service being offered, but with only around 5-6 elderly folks in attendance. I sat down on one of the chairs and watched and listened. Some choir singing, some sermons, and some chat happening in my own mind.
The aural effect in general was soothing and I slowly settled on my own mind's voice. It kept shifting rapidly from one matter to another: my dear Bijoy, my Pullara, Gayathri and Rudra, what if I fail in my venture, will it affect my family, or merely my pride...
I sensed someone's presence. I opened my eyes to find an elderly lady, ambling up to me using a walker and carrying some church literature. "Just in case you need them..." she smiled. I accepted the copy of the New Testament, a book of choir songs, and something else in Welsh. I thanked her.
She returned to her seat some five rows ahead and I to my thoughts.
...it would only be my pride, I concluded. That was the mild pain wrenching my heart. More than Bijoy, more than family, more than Pullara. There was no escaping my self-centeredness...
The service ended presently. The church organ fell silent and the choir group dispersed. I woke up from my reverie, and traced my steps out of the church when I heard an "Excuse me!"
I turned around to see the priest walking up to me.
"We haven't met before, have we?"
"No father (I'm not even sure if that's the term used in the Anglican Church.) I am new to the country."
"Well, welcome then! I am John. Please visit us whenever you can."
"I will do that. Although I am afraid I am not a Christian."
"That's alright. Are you a Muslim?"
"No, Hindu."
"Oh, a Hindu...from India...I know great Hindus. Gandhi, Nehru..."
I smile. "I'm glad. Have you been to India?"
"No, unfortunately. Not yet. Hope to hear about your country from you sometime whenever you have the time. So do visit us."
"I shall surely do that. I will get my daughters, too, to meet you."
"Oh that will be great. Good luck..."
I stepped out. It was drizzling. It was cold. I was, somehow, warm. Despite that edgy pride.
