Blessings

Fiction

Pastor Joshua was watching Prime Minister Modi meditating on the Vivekananda Rock in Kanyakumari when Shanta and Gopan walked into his office. “We are such a blessed nation to have this saint as our Prime Minister,” Joshua said to the visitors whom he had never met earlier. Visitors come frequently to Pastor Joshua’s house because he is an influential person in the village. He is rich and has connections with politicians of all parties.

“Alleluia,” Joshua greeted the visitors in his usual style. Shanta and Gopan joined their palms in namaste, the only form of greeting they were familiar with.

Ah, some infidels coming for financial help, Pastor Joshua concluded instantly. He was familiar with all sorts of people, from top to bottom. When you are a public figure, you are in touch – whether you like it or not – with all sorts, and you know how to assess people accurately.

“May the blessings of Lord Jesus be upon you,” Pastor Joshua said to the visitors. “How can the Lord help you?”

“We live in a rented house nearby,” Gopan said meekly. “We want to start a business in our little house. We need your blessings.”

“May Lord Jesus bless you,” Pastor Joshua raised his right arm to gesticulate blessing. “What business are you starting?” The pastor had already noticed with his experienced eye that these people weren’t rich enough to start any business with which he could associate himself in any way. Poor people were of no interest to the pastor except as souls to be saved, the Lord’s harvest, which is of no more profit than sheer manpower required in rallies and other silly worldly affairs.

Gopan looked at Shanta unable to answer the pastor’s query.

“I’m doing the business,” Shanta said. “He is my cashier and accountant.” And she lowered her dupatta flippantly making sure that the pastor saw her cleavage which was young enough to attract any man, let alone a pastor.

Pastor Joshua’s experienced psyche understood the business instinctively. He understood more than that. These people just wanted him to leave them alone with their business. Keep his Lord and His mercy away so that they can earn their livelihood in peace.

Pastor Joshua was keen to know who these newcomers in his territory were.

“From far away, Saar,” Shanta said flinging her arm as far away as possible in such a way that her dupatta fell from her shoulders altogether like the mists clearing in transparent sunlight.

Shanta had lost her entire family to a landslide. Landslides are as frequent now in Kerala as road accidents, Pastor Joshua reflected as Shanta narrated her tragic loss quite dramatically. She struggled to get on in life all alone when she met Gopan in the forest where she had gone to collect firewood. Gopan had come to poach a wild boar or at least a rabbit. He was a loner in the area since he had abandoned his wife and children in his faraway village. Gopan’s boredom and Shanta’s desolation poached each other with the kind of vengeance that their favourite political party has against history.

“We tried to find work, Saar,” Gopan said with palpable sincerity. The only work he knew was farming and nobody in Kerala did that anymore. Pastor Joshua agreed. All his vegetables and fruits and chicken and bacon everything came from Tamil Nadu or elsewhere. Shanta was ready to work too, she said, to cook. But nobody wanted her. These people order food from Swiggy or Zomato or something like that.

“There is no work, Saar, and we are hungry.”

Pastor Joshua looked at Jesus (the image on the wall opposite him, I mean) and then at Shanta’s cleavage.

“I cannot come to your house to bless your business,” Joshua said finally. “I am an honourable man, you know.”

“You come disguised, Saar,” Shanta said. “Put on a false beard, grey your hair with powder and remove your specs.”

“How will I see you if I remove my specs, dear Shanta?”

“Saar! A man doesn’t see a woman with his eyes.”

Pastor Joshua began to learn some new lessons from Shanta.

“Did you meet the Panchayat President?” Joshua asked Shanta. No business can flourish without political support even if God’s support is ensured.

“Yes, Saar,” Shanta said. “He only asked us to meet you.”

Shanta and Gopan joined their palms in gratitude.

Pastor Joshua raised his right hand to bless them.

Prime Minister Modi was still meditating on Vivekananda Rock soliciting divine blessings for his country.