Brother Emmanuel’s Revelation
As the padre narrated the story of the prodigal son, Chakkunny a.k.a brother Emmanuel, sitting in the front pew, with his hands folded at the elbow and the lower part holding each other, stared at the priest with a facial expression of intense curiosity. He had heard this story ad infinitum with umpteen different interpretation including what the father was thinking, the prodigdl son’s demeanor, and of course the jealousy of the other older son. Each padre substantiates his view, but Chakkunny did not care, for he knew his acceptance at the church and the larger community is based completely on the appearance of piety he exuberated and whether the congregants truly believed it. The moment the congregation suspects of the disappointments in his life and the disdain he harbors against the church, he will simply be persona non grata at the church, the very church that his ancestors struggled to have built and now he relies on making a living.
Oh, lord knows how abundantly unsatisfied he was with the hand he was dealt. He is neither an Achan (priest) nor a Kapiar (the facilitator at the church) just a brother, a bat like existence, part bird and part mammal. This brotherhood puts a lot of restrictions on him; he is not allowed to have alcoholic beverages when even the priests have them. If he ventured out to a theater for a movie other than say “Ten Commandments”, the town goes up in arms with the demand that he be kicked out of the church. Worst yet, he can’t even relive himself on the side of the road, something everybody around him does, as a matter routine enjoyment and relief. How about the costume he has to wear? It consists of a long sleeve white shirt with cufflinks and buttoned to his neck. He wears a white mundu, something equivalent to a bedsheet, that reaches all the way to his ankle. To say the least, it is not customary for a person in Brotherhood to fold the mundu at the mid-point and tie the ends together like everybody else around him does. This is especially true during the torrential rains of Monsoon. In addition, he has to wear a kalasam (a pair of light-weight knickers usually worn under the mundu) that help mask his appendages, the very contraption that is perceived as the source of pride for most men but considered the source all human sins by the God!
For most of his life, Chakkunny has been truthful to the celibacy vow he took voluntarily back while he was working as a cook at the seminary. He did not have to take it, but took it any way just to be almost a priest. Brothers who are in the priesthood track take the solemn wow; for they know they are going to be in the Promised Land even before getting to Paradise for they get so much just by surrendering the simple short-lived pleasure of the reproductive right. They are recruited out of high school or earlier, and many of them are not even aware these sexual emotions and associated pleasure. Chakkunny knows, even at forty, he does not have full control over the sexual dimension of his anatomy. Oh God, the Darsana Perunnal was a real test! The Sangirthy (room behind the altar where priests and altar servers get ready to conduct the rituals) was really crowded with very little room to maneuver. Complicating the matter was all the nuns running around pretending to be setting up the altar decorations, he was not sure what their true goals were. He vividly remembers how Sister Carmeliamma accidentally (or who knows intentionally) rubbed against him and his manhood woke up with the ferocity of a cobra in a chicken coop. He was in a high state of excitement the entire day, was so afraid that he might succumb to committing a cardinal sin. That night in bed he was thoroughly agitated, eventually he had to stare at the crucifix for hours and recite many Hail Marys before calming himself down. He very much doubted that the priests underwent these emotions. Of course, he is jealous of the Assistant pastor (Asthenti); his neatly laundered cassock, young vibrant attitude, and his assertive demeanor. On the other hand, he is contemptuous of the Kapiar for he is convinced that his is one hell of a low life. He is sure, in the unlikely event, if he broke himself out of this amphibian existence, he would not mind trading his Brotherhood to the Asthenti’s role!
Chakkunny knows he made some fundamental mistakes; he had two chances to become a priest: join the Carmelites when they recruited from the ninth grade; or pass the S.S.L.C exam. Either of those would have saved him from this dilemma; he would have been a priest by now. How disappointed he is about himself not anticipating this existence? He wished somebody had alerted him. In the priesthood track, his seminary life would have been so much more enjoyable. He would have been praying intensely, playing cards with the priests during free time, assisting with the Holy Mass, and more. Instead, he was being treated as some low life, a servant to these Loha (cassock) clad men, enduring perpetual subjugation. Most of his days were spent cooking and cleaning in the kitchen!
Chakkunny is furious about the flamboyant lifestyle of the Asthenti, his exuberant behavior while girls are around, even his cavalier demeanor at the altar. Why are these people wearing this Loha with some two or three hundred buttons in the front? Maybe they want to make themselves look special. To Chakkunny, taking care of all those buttons is like manicuring the toenails of a centipede! They cannot possibly be unbuttoning all the way to get out of the “lloha” to get into bed. Why, you only need a few buttons in the neck area for easy ingress and egress from this contraption and another four or five buttons around the mid-section to give ready access to the private parts to relieve themself. Then again, he thought, why did God combine liquid waste disposal with reproduction on the same contraption? The God definitely did not need to hang the ammo right below the “gun”? May be God was having fun at His new creation. He thought about the Asthenti again, his few encounters with him were humiliating; the treatment he received was contemptuous and condescending. As a Brother, the society has not accorded a role for him; he does not belong anywhere; hence he languishes doing this and that at his parish.
Kapiar, on the other hand, knows that he is a low life but has no complaints about that; he makes an easy living off of the church and at the end of the day, he gets to snuggle with somebody. Chakkunny does not think much of Kapiar’s wife, Kunjely. She is a one hell of a WMD (weapon of mass destruction), a boisterous, nosy, conniving bitch, pretty lethal when somebody crosses her path. Kunjely acts as a central switching station in the gossip circuit of the church community. A secret becomes a non-secret in the capable mouth of Kunjely, that too with a lot of embellishment, some true and some not so true but she can’t care less. The last Asthenti can vouch for the lethality of her attacks; for he was literally run out of town when he tried to put some restrictions on the Kapiar. Chakkunny remembers the stories that got spread about the Asthenti, the dark car with tinted glass, the pregnant nun, delivery in the high ranges, a child at the “Anadha Sala”, and so on. Nothing was ever proven but the Asthenti ended up in the remote Thokkupara (affectionately referred to as Gun Rock) church overnight. He saw tears in the Asthenti’s eyes while saying good-bye to the few courageous souls that ventured out in spite of the wrath of Kunjeli. The new Astheti, forewarned of the brutality, quickly mended fence, got on her good side, and of course, reaps the benefits of the good gossip.
What irks Chakkunny the most is the new Asthenti’s handling of the confessionals. Time and again, he has seen pretty girls coming out of the confessional extremely ameliorated and some even giggling. What kind of repentance is that? If Chakkunny were to do it, they will literally be weeping and gnashing their teeth for sinning against God. Under him, there will not be any of these 10-Hail Mary deals, they will be doing some serious penance and repenting every minute of their sins. Chakkunny is confident that he can put a few souls in heaven, sit them on the right side of God and have them pray eternally. This eternal prayer bit did not appeal to Chakkunny, it did not sound like a reward for good deeds that took a life time of achievement on earth. He was not sure whether, in heaven, you sat on the right side of God or simply knelt down on the right side. The right side is prefered by most people since the left hand is usually used washing the rear end. He hoped there would be breaks in between so that one can stretch and walk around (or is it fly around?). How can anybody sit or kneel down in heaven; all the angels he has seen have a head like any human, wings like a dove, good sized pectorals, and nothing below the waist. Again, here is another instance Chakkunny disagreed with God. Why would the God make Satan so powerful (legs, hones, tail, long curving finger nails, everything) while making the angels powerless? How would they be able constantly fight against the Satan? Even their wings! He remembered Alias Achan saying, with the bat like wings, the devil can fly much faster than the angels. He recalled Achan saying that if the angels are like four stroke engines, the Satan is a two stroke one. Apparently during the pre-Adamic era (before Adam was created), a legion of the strongest angels revolted against God and He made them devils. That really screwed up the human; Eve, the snake and the whole works. Now millions upon millions are competing for the few slots vacated by the condemned angels. He wondered how many open slots are there assuming three legions of angels fell from grace out of the original nine legions. He wondered whether it will be too late for him to compete for the available seats. He decided not to worry too much about these things; he will deal with them when he gets to heaven and report to Saint Peter at the Perlie Gate.
The bell indicating the host is being raised woke him up; he was still sitting on the bench even though the sermon was long over and the padre had just raised the host. He was afraid people will wonder about his dedication. He could not believe that his mind had wandered around so much that he almost missed the mass. He stood himself up on his knees and, changing his expression to one of intense sadness, started praying. His only hope was that his brief carelessness did not result in the revelation of his true self and his inner feelings especially his attitude towards the church hierarchy.
