The Forbidden Book: Memoir of a college student

She got up with a jolt, leaving ripples in my flimsy Nescafe coffee mug, the only kind of coffee, available in Indian events like these. For that split second, I had a brief moment of doubt about being "The Church" in a public place like the renowned literature festival that I was attending.

I have been in love with a Jewish man, dividing the historical time line into two halves, like chopping a tomato with a serrated knife into two, this man has taught me to be "the Church" no matter where I am. You must be wondering what I mean by "The Church", well you have to stick with me till the end.

The ripples in my mug and the splash of coffee on my shoulder, made me think about whether the world is ready to receive "The Church" and if not, then where does my identity lie in the ocean of homo sapiens I co exist with.

The story goes something like this: The city was welcoming the most sought after intellectuals into a jam packed auditorium. Ringing with accolades and covered with feathers of achievements renowned authors, politicians and philosophers, the auditorium looked like a knight in all his glory. The scene was an image of something like, Martin King Luther, C.S Lewis and Sartre in one cozy air conditioned room.

I stood in the queue, which appeared like an enormous centipede, moving vigorously from one side to the other. The scorching heat made the centipede move even faster, and so I decided to dismember the creature and sat on a stony ledge next to the queue.It is here that I first experienced the ultimate gesture of ridicule towards the forbidden book. I call it the forbidden book because whenever I use the word "Bible" in intellectual spheres,I would be looked upon as a Hogwartian who mumbled something like "Voldemort".

Literature fest in most cases, is attended by those who absolutely adore books. So as the wise men prepared their speeches, the book worms were busy reading that "almost fit in your handbag" kind of novels. The heat and dragonflies were not entertaining enough, so I decided to pull out that "almost tearing your bag, but wont fit" kind of book and perched it on my lap.

As I placed the "forbidden" book on my lap, I suddenly noticed the sky turn a shade darker, as the countenance of the humans around me changed drastically. The dragonfly muttered something like "zzzzzz-go away---zzzzz". Picking the indications, as usual, after the sun goes down, I decided to be buried inside David's beautiful words of wisdom.

My eyes moved vigourously over the lines "My soul finds rest in God alone, my salvation comes from him, He alone is my rock and salvation, I will never be shaken.." exactly when I felt the chair next to mine shake along with the head of an angry old woman, disappointed to the core of her being. As she lifted her bag with a jerk to leave, I asked her "Is everything alright?" what awaited me on the other side of that question, is the reality of a born-again christian's life.

Her argument started somewhere along the following lines, "You think you can read this book in public, and draw peoples attention towards that Jesus?" To which I replied, "No, quite frankly, I don't think about other people so much". She retorted vehemently "Then you must, young girl, religion has created such hatred and boundaries in this world, and I simply hate preachers. All they want is to convert, convert and simply convert".

I was not very satisfied with her contentions, so I decided to refute. Putting an end to the rambling going on inside my head I DECIDED TO SPEAK. I said, have you ever wondered, that behind all these lines and boundaries drawn by man-made religion, there is a God who has nothing to do with it? Well, ma'am, I said, with great courtesy as I was taught by the nuns in my school, you have to agree with me, that maybe, there is someone, who has no role in making these boundaries, and yet bears the brunt each time a tiny human decides to flip the pages of the 'forbidden book' in a public space.

Now the sky remained a shade darker, but there seemed to be something gleaming in the eyes of this woman. She drifted towards the ticket counter, and grabbed a cup of coffee, and perched herself neatly next to my chair and the 'forbidden book'. She said, "I see, I have a story right here. Would you like to tell me about this innocent man?" She said jestingly, taking a sip of the hot coffee.

I started with a rhetoric tone, which soon changed into a whimsy slur, as I got excited to talk about the man who changed my life, and quite frankly, everything in general. I started by the four letter word called "LOVE". I told the lady, I cannot understand how "LOVE" took the shape and dimension of the word "CONVERSION". Breathing a little deeper now, I narrated the story of this innocent man. Jesus, the Jewish man I mentioned earlier had one message, one call and one desire, and that was for mankind to understand LOVE. So he displayed a definition more accurate than Cambridge or Oxford would provide, and that definition was his arms stretched wide on the cross.

Snapping the flow of my emotions, with a thunderous clap that squished a fly, the lady looked at me intently. She asked me, "You think, I am attending this intellectual festival for no good reason? You think, I have not heard the gospel?" I looked at her even more intently, and said " I marvel, that you heard it and still bothered me when I opened my bible". If anyone really hears the gospel, in its purity, free from the religious agenda, free from individual adulteration, free from man's intent to gain something out of it, I guarantee, the human realm will soon decay and give way to a new man, with changed eyes and changed mind.

The lady had a layer of thick horse skin around her cerebral cortex, and so she said, 'Is the world not doing well young lady? Does the world need your innocent man, and a changed mind? She said with great emphasis, " The world is doing just fine, just fine, without Jesus". She picked up her snake skin bag, and left the flimsy Nescafe mug on the chair and walked away in a direction unknown to me.

That unembellished and plain afternoon, I wondered and wondered, and thought to myself, If the world was doing just fine, then why is it so crammed out here, why can I not be 'The Church' without raised eyebrows and nagging index fingers, but most of all why in good heavens I couldn't finish the psalms I started. And so, I muttered under my breath the same verse where I got interrupted, "My soul finds rest in God alone, my salvation comes from him, He alone is my rock and salvation, I will never be shaken.."

© Filter Coffee Storied, Anisha Mahima 6th September,2018