Fr. Simon, SJ.

Fr. Simon was my boss when I taught at the St. Xavier’s college in Bombay. His simplicity had a profound impact on my life. He also has a great sense of humour and thus was my choice for the Toast Master for my wedding with Anita (ex-wife.)

Even though he was a priest, his discourses would make very interesting sermons.

This is what he said at my wedding:

There was a couple who happily married for a long time. So in this day and time when marriage is the first step towards a divorce, people wanted to know what their formula for such a successful relationship was. The wife being the talkative of the two was very forth coming with her explanation.

She said that the crux of most discords in a relationship is the decision making function in life. Decision making often leads to arguments which go on to become fights and thus result in unpleasantness.

So she explained how the couple right in the beginning of getting together had decided not to ever fight over decisions taken by the other.

The couple had apparently decided that all the ‘Big’ decisions in life would be taken by the Husband and all the ‘small’ decisions would be left to the wife. No arguments were entertained once the decisions were taken and thus happiness was guaranteed.

Some smart soul who had tried to apply this logic in his life came up to the couple and asked the obvious question: “Well who takes a decision and decides what is a ‘Big’ decision and which one is a ‘small’ decision?”

The Wife instantly replied.... “Oh! That is a very small decision... so it is left to me...”

They once thought I was dead.

It was one of those breaks in school we call summer vacations. Our exams had got over in March and the results were out in April. From then until a black Monday in the second week of June we had holidays.

To escape the heat in Bombay people would take a short break to hill stations but we had this ancestral home by the beach in Goa. This place needed heavy duty maintenance before the rains. So my summer vacations were neither short nor cool. They were always spent with family in Goa where the heat could make anyone see apparitions on the Candolim Beach.

I would year after year look forward to the semi luxury Kadamba bus ride to Goa. Somehow right from my childhood I always loved the Journey more than the destination. But that’s another story and I will leave it for another day.

I had learnt swimming at a very early age. My mum who had no knowledge of swimming taught me swimming by ringside instructions. Over the years I had mastered the art and could swim my way through most pools. On my many trips to Goa I had always begged and pleaded with my elders to let me swim in the sea but since I was the only child, I was always denied permission.

I wonder why they still feel the only child has it easy. Anyway moving on...

So it was around 11 am on a hot May morning in Goa that a group of children from the neighbourhood were going for a swim. The idea was to take a dip and thus cool off.

You must understand that this was a time where we did not even have a ceiling fan in our Goa house. Moreover they electricity situation in Candolim even today is pathetic. So the idea of taking a dip to cool off was actually not so bad.

I requested one of the older boys to help me with the permission from my parents and as my luck would have it he obliged. I think my luck was damn good and even my dad agreed to send me. My mum was worried and in her chicken-heartedness warned this older boy with dire consequences if something happened to me.

On the beach the logic was simple. I just ripped off my cloths and pushed my glasses in to the hands of one of the girls who had come to watch over us and jumped in to the water. I soon realised that swimming in the sea after one passed the waves is no different from swimming in a deep pool. What I did not realise thought was the fact that none of the boys who had come for the swim really knew to swim. Thus they went only as far into the water as their legs could carry them.

Without my glasses I was virtually blind. I had hardly a few meters of clear visibility beyond which it was a haze. Swimming to have fun I soon lost sight of land behind me. I only realised this when I wanted to turn back as I could not sight land. With water on all four sides, I should have been frightened to death. But as a kid I knew no fear. I decided to use my sense of direction. Moreover as it was day the Sun helped me. What I had learnt as a boring lesson in Geography was now suddenly making sense.

A little tired I managed to make my way back to land. I could hardly see where I had reached and there was nobody on the beach. I had lost track of the time and thus thought, may be the people who had come with me for the swim must have left. I realised that there was no sense looking for my friends and decided to head home. Although my home in Goa is hardly 90 meters from the water I still have no idea how I found my way back home from where I landed. In retrospect I believe that I may have been guided by some divine force because I actually found my way back quite easily.

Once back home I did not make much of my trip to the beach. I thought bragging would jeopardise my future chances of swimming in the sea.

I was so thirst that I started to drink directly from the earthen pot. Soon mum sent me off to a bath and then it was lunch. In the meanwhile I also managed to find myself a spare set of glasses and thus could finally see.

It is like a tradition to take an afternoon nap in Goa. So we all went to sleep. Around 4 in the evening I heard a shy knock at the door. As no one was up I decided to answer the door. At the door were a group of my neighbours who looked very scared. Some of them were crying and the moment they saw me the expressions on their face changed so drastically that I could not believe my eyes. Some of them looked at me as if they were seeing a ghost while others were relived and almost rejoicing. While I was wondering what had happened, I saw my clothes with one of them and another one carrying my glasses with both hands.

I soon realised what had happened. These guys thought I was dead when I did not come back from the sea.

Later they told my dad that they waited for me for almost an hour and when I did not come back they thought I was dead. Some of them who thought they would be held responsible for this were so afraid that they first went home and informed their parents about what had happened. Their parents then met and decided what to do and finally mustered up the courage to come to my home to break the news to my folks.

To their surprise they found me home.

Now for the caveat... don’t try this at home unless you know to swim...