At the counter is a yellow kettle, almost like the red one Dad got you from Kolkotta. You used to live by the Bay of Bengal when life was a school kid. Ay. You can be suddenly taken back in Time, to see what’s hard to fully explain
In the tastefully set-up Eatery, Royal Parattas House, a kind-eyed gentleman smiles welcome at our brood. This is a wee cosy spot in the city- North-main road that we just crossed.
“You pick, we roll” the Slogan suits their lemon tea and aloo paratta (wheat cake, layered with seasoned -mash potatoes). We been having an unusually exciting week, and happened to crash here for a tiny break before heading home. Mid all this, we notice that the silver haired gentleman resembles Dad as we remember him,
it is around 6pm, almost time for our evening family prayer. We move from white chairs back towards the entrance, to leave. But there is the Nudge to say “Hello..”
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& say what-? “Jesus loves you” ? He surely does, but how explain that. He is a very polite Mr Rajesh Arora.
“D’you write…” I ask. It feels obvious for some reason. Looking up from reading a Bestseller, he says Yes, for Caravan and Imprint, (he used to).
Mr.Rajesh A. ‘s family geography moved from Lahore, then Kolkotta, in Delhi as a Lecturer in English, to here where he also hosts at Paperback Books. Yes he knows Gopalpur where Dad was stationed. So. We all know Sunny Lobo, Kolkotta’s famed pianist. Decades apart, yet here we are in a Time warp thats hit us with Parattas, in the middle of our prayer time, because we needed to just sit a minute?
I’m a Social Hermit and would rather burrow in my writing -den than actually talk, talk. All I manage to say now is, “Please do write ..”
..what stories there must be here: ancestral Roots from 1947, transitions via Bay of Bengal as husband, father, now a Mirror, a Caravan too of Change. He listens with quiet courtesy. Yes he has dad’s listening ears, the mellow of Observers.
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Early this morning I meditate in my steaming jeera brew, wishing everyone of us knew our personal significance to these Times.
More and more of late, I’ve begun to ask – what’m I to You, oh God; a creature of man- made caste/ is not my personal story placed in me, by Sacred Hands that ask something ?Meeting Christ, made me see I’m a creation, here by Grace, to reflect Grace*.
If I have a prayer now, its this, Lord God please let every living man, woman, child, know we are each Imprints of Your Royalty, if we believe. Bless everyone of us with a personal visit from You. I know You are aware of us each, You know us by name, even from when we were knit in our Ma’s womb. That’s what You say in the Bible. Who says something like that unless They factually do that?! I’m taking You at Your Word, so be it. Yay. In Lord Yeshu’s name I request, amen. “
*Grace -favor of God, not depending on human merit.
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*Vineyard of Prayer, because a Vineyard is a place of the Transformative Affection of God.
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