A miraculous weekend in London-1986

An exerpt from 'CHICKEN SOUP FOR INDIAN SOULS! VOL. 3.

A walk down memory lane for Raji

A miraculous weekend
On a visit to London in 1986, my husband and I found that we had a weekend free and decided to visit the famous shrine at Lourdes, in the south of France. We were lucky to get train tickets at short notice – only later I was able to see that it was all part of a magnificent miracle, at least for me. After a comfortable journey, we reached Lourdes; from the station we took a shuttle bus to the shrine and there we were told to go for the baths, separate sunken baths have been made for men and women wherein one can have a dip in the holy waters of the spring, which is visible under a glass sheet. On that day it was very crowded because all the military cadets of Europe were there for a special blessing from the archbishop who was coming from Rome for the occasion. I was sitting on the pews on one side where all the women were seated. On a small podium mass was being read in all the languages – Russian, Polish, German, and French. Suddenly a woman came on stage and spoke in French asking if there was any English speaking person in the crowd. Since I had learnt French in school, I understood what she was saying and I raised my hand expecting that she wanted some instructions to be conveyed in English for the sake of those who understood only English. On seeing me, the woman said, “Come here, come up quickly”, and when I ran up to her, she thrust a huge book in my hand saying that I must read the mass next and disappeared. Fortunately I was a little familiar with the mass having studied in Christian schools and colleges. I sat on stage listening to a man reciting the mass in a language that I did not recognise. As soon as he was finished, I was asked to read next. I read out the mass, and surprisingly remembered even the hymn learnt back in my school days!!!

Later after a dip in the baths, my husband and I sat in the lawns to eat lunch – chappatis and alu curry which I had cooked and brought from London. My husband said that on hearing my voice on the mike he had got the shock of his life; he really had to crane his neck to see if it was really me on the stage. He was laughing and telling me that a typical Tam Bram mami in silks and diamonds reading out the mass in Lourdes was a unique sight indeed. After that beautiful experience, I wanted to share my joy with one and all, and started looking around to see if I could find someone who would share my food with me. My husband tried to dissuade me saying that in France one cannot find beggars like we do in India, and that I should eat up my food quickly. Just as I was reluctantly tearing a piece of chappati, an old man suddenly came up and asked if I could give him some food! I was overwhelmed and gladly gave my food to him, feeling utterly blessed.

That night on the train back to England, as we sat eating bread and jam, my husband was telling me in Tamil that he was sick and tired of eating bread all the time, and that he was waiting to get back to India just to eat proper food – by which he meant sambar, rasam, appalam and the lot. Suddenly, we were startled out of our skins when seemingly out of the dark, a voice spoke to us in Tamil, inviting us to dinner at his home in London the following evening! Recovering from our surprise, we noticed that the person who was stretched out in the seat across the aisle was an Indian, a military attaché, posted in London. While we quickly struck up a friendship with him, we said that we could not impose on him, but he would have none of that. Next evening found us ringing his door bell - a little apprehensive and a lot embarrassed – but all that vanished when our new friend opened the door smilingly and out wafted the delicious aroma of a South Indian meal. The table was laden with a veritable feast – sambar, puliogere, payasam – the works.

I was moved to tears by the mysterious ways of the lord, who takes care of even the smallest of our wishes. Even now, when I look back, I am struck with wonder as to how perfect and miraculous that weekend was.