Fiction
Father Joseph woke up from sleep with
a tremor running down his spine. His
body was drenched with sweat. This had
become a routine now: a nightmare would kill his sleep halfway through it.
In his nightmares he was a sorcerer,
or a witch hunter, or a medieval knight tilting at some mysterious
windmills. He dispensed magical potions
and panaceas to the people who came and knelt down in front of him with childlike
trust. He drove a stake into the heart
of every sinner in the parish. He led
some amorphous army to he knew not where.
Every dream ended with somebody like John the Baptist making a mocking
apparition to him and accusing him of cardinal sins of all hues. Often the Baptist had only the head; there
was no body. There was fury in his
mockery. His words lashed out like
lightning and thunder.
Father Joseph put on his white
soutane as he got ready for his morning meditation. He spent an hour every morning in silent prayer
and meditation before the parishioners came for the morning Mass. He mortified his flesh in many ways during
the day in order to ward off all evil.
The devil prowls round everywhere and can overpower you at any
time. One ought to be on constant guard.
Darkness enveloped the church as
Father Joseph came out of the presbytery.
He had forgotten to switch on the outside light last night. Darkness had swallowed the whole world,
thought Father Joseph. What use was the
artificial light of bulbs? Light had
vanished from the hearts and souls of people.
Father Joseph’s meditation was about
to end when Sara appeared before him.
Sara had the beauty of an angel and the seductiveness of a witch. She must have come to confess for the
umpteenth time about her marital infidelity.
Yet another night in the arms of a man who was not her husband. Her husband was in Dubai making money.
Father Joseph looked at Sara. Not into her eyes as he used to do. His eyes slipped. They fell on the beautiful curves of her
youthful body. Father Joseph felt an
unusual tremor in his loins. The tremor
rose from the loins towards his heart, shaking up his whole body.
“My God, my God!” his soul cried out
silently.
The lights had been switched on in
the church. But Father Joseph saw
darkness everywhere.
“The devil!” he muttered to himself,
his eyes widening in alarm. “The devil
is inside me!”
Every human has two parts good and bad.. its on the human which one to choose...
ReplyDeleteWe can't choose really, Saurabh. We have to accept both. Until we accept the devil within us, just as we accept the angel, we won't be at peace.
DeleteWonder why is thoughts of sex the work of a devil?
ReplyDeleteFor a Catholic priest who has taken the vow of chastity, sex will be a cardinal sin.
DeleteBrilliant piece once again, Sir :)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Abhra. I must acknowledge my gratitude to a psychologist whom I read recently. He said that until we see the devil within us clearly and also accept it as an integral part of ourselves, our life will remain incomplete and discontented... The story came from my reading into that statement.
DeleteWow, the final lines were really good....I wasn't feeling quite engaged towards the beginning but I'm glad I read through.. That climax was powerful and dark, exactly how i prefer my stories to be
ReplyDeleteGlad you found it interesting, Ritesh... Until we discover the devil within ourselves and come to terms with it, it will keep haunting our dreams.
Delete