Chapter 89
It all began when I was young, perhaps six.
"Would you like to meet Jesus, Nikhil?"
"Jesus? Who's Jesus?" So naïve at that age. I had heard of that Jesus man he talked about. The children at school had said his name in passing once or twice. Some of them had said that they loved Him. I couldn't quite grasp that concept though. How could you love someone you've never met and is dead?
My father went on to tell me the story of Jesus. He told me about the miracles he performed. The parables he told. I remember asking him once, "Father, if Jesus could walk on water because he had faith, why couldn't you when you were on the ocean?" I was slightly older by the time I had asked that. He had given me a look that had clearly said that he had never thought of trying that
"Perhaps I am not as Christian as I think myself to be." Perhaps Father Martin had lied to him the day he had told him that he was already a Christian. The phone had rang just as he was going to continue talking and he got up to answer and I had walked away.