At Dharmasagar, Warangal

 Today was the funeral of Gagarapu Anil's dad - Mr Gagarapu Adam. It was in his hometown of Dharmasagar, in Warangal.  The death was all of a sudden.  Two of Anil's sisters were inconsolable.  

This is the second time that I visited Dharmasagar.  The first time was more than 20 years ago while at Karunapuram.  I distinctly remember going to the place for a cycle picnic from Karunapuram.  Don't remember much of the place, the village or the Church, except one sharp turn on the road.  There was an old temple in a very dilapidated shape then, just near that sharp and narrow turn.  Today I didn't see any temple at that location. 

I liked the Parish Church very much.  Very brightly lit up but natural sunlight and refreshingly well ventilated, with plenty of windows.  The sanctuary is also well lit up with sunlight streaming in from above.  Very spacious, inside and outside as well. 

Parents at their child's funeral

I'm just back from a funeral in the Parish. The deceased is a young lady, aged 28, whose parents I've known. They have been members of this Parish from the early years of the Parish.  

Funerals are never easy!  What was more painful at this funeral was to see the parents.  Children attending the funeral of their parents is something that can be tolerated or accepted. But for parents to attend the funeral of their own child is really heart wrenching.  

Whatever the past or the misunderstandings, for a parent to see a child lie lifeless is not at all easy.  

Parent's impact on children

Last Friday I had the good fortune of being present with the family of Thomas Aquinas, even though the occasion was not a joyful one; it was the funeral of his Dad. 

Nonetheless what was evident and a joy for me to witness was the sincere appreciation of the man that Mr Rayappan (Aquinas' father) was. He was the first trained catechist of the Salem diocese. And right till the end he continued being so.  

Much more than just doing the work of a catechist, he truly appears to have influenced the lives of people and brought them closer to Christ.  The most solid evidence to this fact of his life is the life of his sons!  Of the three I know Aquinas well.  And I told him as I left the cemetery after the burial, "No surprise, your roots run deep and strong!" 

The one thing that kept ringing in my head all along the Mass, especially listening to what several people were sharing and talking, either from the pulpit or all around me, was the impact of parents on the lives of their children!  True indeed, from the fruits one knows the quality of the tree! 

Two vocation stories and a funeral

Today a few of us attended the funeral of Ms Thumma Agathamma, the aunt of Mr Gopu Balareddy.  Although the aunt, he respected and loved her more than his own mother, because it was she who brought him up. 

Before and during the funeral Mass, listening to the virtues of the deceased and her adopted son, it struck me that both of them have been utterly selfless and generous towards the Church, especially priests and religious.  Their respect for the clergy and their charitable works has been truly commendable.  Certainly Mr Balareddy imbibed this virtue from his aunt.  

Nonetheless the thought that occurred to me was that if at all they continued in their religious life, which they both did try to discern and choose sometime early in life,  their impact on the Andhra Church and those lives they touch(ed) would not have been the same. I feel they have been of greater help to the Church as lay people than if the were to have  become priest or a nun!  

That is what I believe is the mystery of a vocation (any vocation, be that of a priest or a businessman, of a religious or a housewife).  It is a call to which one is invited to respond. Not a mere career one chooses by oneself. 

A stranger, yet not unknown

This morning I was glad that I could make it for the Memorial Mass of Mr Anthony Noronha, the dad of Mario, a long time family friend.  It was nice to meet very many of the family members, most of whom I last met when I was a little.  Papa and Mummy always had/have a high regard for this particular family and from my little interaction with Mario I can sense why so.  

I distinctly remember when Papa passed away and I was overseas. By the time I came home, all the arrangements for the Mass and funeral were done; mostly by Baly and Santiagu. But I also became aware that there were some family friends who had also chipped in.  With Mario, it was particularly evident.  He did not come to the limelight or make himself prominent. But he did greatly help at home.  At one particular moment, after we returned home from the burial ground, we were serving meals for all at home.  There were quite a few, with many from Mangalore.  And Mario was helping out in serving.  When I offered him the plate and invited him to have his meal he said, "Those of the family eat last, after serving the guests!" And he continued serving the 'guests' with a smile! 

Today as I sat in the Church praying for the family, I repeated to myself what I had shared at Fr Maliekal's mum's funeral: I did not know her. I never spoke to her or met her. Yet as the saying goes, 'The tree is known by its fruits' I am happy and convinced to say that she was a very loving, hardworking and principled woman... all because I know two of her sons. And both of them are exemplary in their way of life.  I therefore believe that it is more than grace that has made them what they are... which I attribute to her upbringing. 

Hence my admiration and appreciation of the man whose Memorial Mass I was attending - a total stranger to me personally, yet not someone about whom I knew nothing! 

Fr James Kudiyirippil - funeral oration

 Fr James Kudiyirippil SDB - Funeral oration

06 July 2024 

It is often said that when we watch people from afar they appear nice and good; but when we start to closely interact with them or live with them, we see how flawed they are. 

I consider myself fortunate to have had both these opportunities with Fr James. I’ve seen and observed him from a distance as my headmaster, right since my early days of schooling at Don Bosco School, Mothinagar and later from close quarters, as a fellow Salesian, and as a friend, also to my whole family. But the beauty of it all was that I found Fr James the same all along: simple, hardworking and totally unassuming. 

As news of his passing away was made known, several of my school mates started posting their memories of Fr James on our class X whatsapp group. Allow me to present a few of them: 

In my fifth class itself he made me give my first speech on stage on the occasion of Fr Lens’ birthday. He made me practice day and night and I was impromptu on the stage that day. That was my first experience. 

What I am today especially in communication is because of him. He played a very important role in my life. 

I have special memories of him coach us for basketball and we made him super happy winning tournaments. 

I recall the screenings of Benhur on his VCR. 

He was such a warm person, kind-hearted although looked strict. 

He served the school with dedication and compassion for years. He led the school with a firm but fair hand, fostering a nurturing environment that encouraged learning and growth. We miss you! 

These are just a few of the expressions of only my class X batchmates. If we were to compile even just a line of what each student felt, over the years that Fr James spent at Mothinagar it would take ages to go through. 

Fr James you always took great pride in your students. Every time I met you in the presence of others, you proudly claimed me to be your student. On my part, I always was and will ever be grateful to you for your great educative role in my life, in the life of my family, in the life of every staff and student who has had the good fortune of knowing you, be it at Mothinagar, Guntupalli, Gunadala or Karunapuram. 

Random memories that are forever etched in my mind: 

 Him playing cricket with us boys during holidays in the school ground, although he was never fond of cricket. Basketball and football were his favourite, but he never forced us to join those games, rather he joined us in what we liked to play. 

 Planting saplings along the playground (which are now huge trees along the ground at Mothinagar, all planted by my friends and I, under the supervision of Fr James). 

 Him addressing the young Salesians as ‘foolish fellow’ – but none took offence because it was said out of genuine love and concern. 

 His special hair-style, always the same and never a strand out of place! 

Well, dear Fr James, you were firm but fair, strict with us for our own good and with no personal agenda, you were kind to all those in need, generous with your time and priestly help to all those approached you. 

Thank you for your inspiration and good example of hard unassuming work, of personal and professional discipline, of loving kindness like that of Don Bosco… and most of all, for being an integral part of my life and growth. You will always be remembered! Thank you dear Fr James!

RIP: Fr Ivor Netto

Yesterday was the funeral of Fr Ivor Netto, at Shiplane Cemetery Farnborough.  It was the first time I witnessed the burial here in England.  It was quite sober and quick.

I had met Fr Ivor on two previous occasions.  The first time was during the memorial Mass of Fr Frank Sutherland, my first visit to Farnborough.  The second time was in the month of May when I was making my retreat at Farnborough.  In the month of June I had contacted Fr Ivor for some help with editing a text of someone else.  He had agreed to complete the task by the end of the month.  However, his sudden death due to a stroke towards the end of the month, left me wondering how much of the work he did complete. So with permission from the administrator of the house, I did manage to hack into his laptop only to discover that he had not started it at all!  Anyway, God rest his soul.

A funeral

I attended a funeral Mass today. It was the mother of one of our confreres.  She had died almost a month ago.  Unfortunately here in the UK the funeral is much later than the death itself.  Even though she was cremated, I know not why this prolonged preservation of the body.  Anyway, the funeral was quite different from the ones I've attended earlier in India... hence was a bit odd.

Apart from the coffin being brought in, a prayer before the Mass and one towards the end of the Mass, was all that was additional to the Mass itself.  The confrere himself preached the homily, which was very meaningful and truly emotional.

The coffin was totally sealed all along. So none 'paid' their respects.  The pall bearers brought in the coffin before Mass and carried it out soon after the Mass. No one even went close to it and prayed or anything of that sort.  Except for most gently touching the coffin as we went in to receive communion, there was no other possibility of offering flowers or saying a prayer or anything of that kind, which I felt was a bit odd.

Later on our way back home, I asked when do people pay respects to the deceased.  They don't!!!  Soon after death the body is taken to the funeral home. Only the nearest of the family visit.  No one else!  And then from the funeral home to the Church right in time for Mass and then straight to the crematorium.

That the delay of weeks and months between the death and funeral itself is weird.  The family in a way has to 're-mourn' after weeks.  Then there is this weird practice of no one paying respects to the deceased. Then the cremation, not burial.

Anyway, prayed for the deceased and the bereaved family members too. Remembered the deceased mother of Fr Johnny too. 

As long as I can see the light...

A very melodious and meaningful song I heard today...
from the movie Black or White. It is a funeral song...

Put a candle in the window
'Cos I feel that I got to move
Though I'm gone gone,
I'll be coming home soon
Long as I can see the light 

Pack my bags and let's get moving
'Cos I'm bound to drift awhile
though I'm gone you don't have to worry
as long as I can see the light
Long as I can see the light 

Guess I have that old travelling bone
'Cos this feeling won't leave me alone
but I won't won't be losing my way
Long as I can see the light.

Funeral Oration

Having witnessed Fr Maliekal's struggle to explain me (a Salesian Brother, not as a would-be priest), I decided to speak something in that line and thank Fr Maliekal's mother for the same.  This is what I spoke to those gathered for the funeral (in English; for if I were to have spoken in Malayalam, the dead would have resurrected and those living reached the gates of heaven instantly!):

We often think very highly of priests and religious, with a feeling that their 'vocation' is a very noble and a 'lofty' one.  However, every vocation is a vocation to life, to love, to serve.  As priests and religious we only choose one form of doing that.  But every path of life also offers this. Greatness lays not in becoming a priest or brother or sister, but in living one's life to the full. And today we thank this mother who lays here before us for exactly this: that she not only lived her life to the full but helped her children too, five of whom are present here with us, to identify and equip them with the necessary skills to live their life to the full too.  For this we thank you Mummy! 

Funeral of Ms Kochuthresia

I am not very comfortable at funerals, hence I avoid them altogether.  I must have attended no more than 3 funerals so far.  This funeral, the one of Fr Maliekal's mother was quite different and unique.  It was much more sober than the ones I previously attended. It was as per the Syrian rite... therefore no Mass but just a service before the funeral (there was one for the family after the funeral, though).  The ceremony conducted at home itself was quite moving.  Though held in Malayalam, I could feel the depth and the richness of the liturgy.  Another interesting fact I noticed was that everytime a religious or a Priest would come to pay their last respects, there would be a special prayer they would intone and all those present would join.  It was something really very prayerful.  And this funeral would be most special because, this is the first time I witnessed someone being interned in the wall and not buried.

Here are a few snaps of the funeral procession...

Of funerals and cemeteries

Funerals are strange occasions... the dead one does not know who is come or who has not. But all the same the living feel obliged to go and attend the final journey. I always avoid funerals. They make me sad... not the loss of the dead but the sorrow of the living, especially the dear ones of the departed. It is heart-rending to see them wail and mourn. I really cannot stand that sort of pain. I've not really reflected as to why am I so affected (perhaps more as a means of escapism than real ignorance).

After the funeral there is always the talk (can also read it as gossip): How many people were there? Frankly speaking a very idiotic and nonsensical question. The reason is cited above! Also because it is used as a measuring tool to chart the popularity rating of the one no more. But maybe true. Not all may feel like me. Hence they may choose to express their affection and love for the departed by joining him/her in the last lap of the moral race.

Anyway, I thought of this for I remembered a statement about the cemetery compound wall, something I used when in Yercaud:

The wall around a cemetery is useless as those inside cannot come out and those outside do not want to get in.

Funeral of Br Gabriel

Funerals are never easy, neither for the one for whom they are conducted nor for the participants. Am just back from the funeral of Br Gabriel! Sentiments of sorrow and pain keep welling up every time I see someone crying over the body. Even when I touched him for the last time before lifting him for the procession towards the cemetery, I could not control myself. It is not that I loved Br Gabriel very much or that he was very dear to me... no! Yet, I believe it is hard to accept the fact that one with whom you have lived for some time of your life is no more. Perhaps the loss is felt all the more when, I know that a part of me - something that I have picked up from him, something inspired by him, some moment made unforgettable because of him, some way he has become part of me - is no more going to be with me, in flesh and blood. I wonder if I will ever remember and shed tears later for Br Gabriel? I haven't done it for Fr Varricatt who passed away six years ago. May be good to spend a few moments with this feeling of loss, now than never! After all, he is my confrere, my family, part of me!

Having penned a few lines about Br Gaby - by way of news for the web - I feel nice to be able to do this bit for or on behalf of him for those who might have been really touched by him - much more than I have been.

Thank you dear Brother!