Sunday, 9 March 2014

Saint Christopher protect us ...


Before we left for Heathrow, my mum had given me a medal of Saint Christopher - this is for you, to keep you safe -

I'd clasped the medal whilst the Airbus was landing at Kochi - the wide bodied jet circled the airport, banking sharply before its final approach - I saw the runway lights burning like strange stars - the smooth faces of the air hostesses were expressionless, their eyes glittering like dark jewels -

On the National Highway, from Kochi to Varkala, I invoked the Saint's intercession more than once - I felt the Saint's worn profile with my finger tips - I would glance up at the implacable whirling tyres of a gaudy lorry, inches away from the Toyota - 

Watching the rosary swaying from a rear view mirror, I would whisper my prayer - 

Saint Christopher, protect us

 

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