The Aramana Church of Mumbai

This is the place I grew up - on those floors I would sit in what seemed like never ending times then, I would stand there without having a clue as to why I was there, what was said from the pulpit seldom made any sense..those days it indeed seemed like torture.

but this place knew me, never gave up on me, and patiently waited for me, and when I finally came back, embraced me with loving arms, like that father of the prodigal son..
so this is the place where I learnt the first essentials of the faith, where I finally seemed to get it! Once it naturally began to sink in, everything else seemed to make sense, this then became the place where I spent an awful lot of my time - and willingly so. Even when sent away, like a bouncing ball I would be back. There was something in this place that seemed to attract me like magnet.

This is my Church, Vashi Aramana Church in Navi Mumbai.

Now after so many years, hardly anyone knows me there - so when I visited, I was able to be with my own self, and with the company of this place which seemed to still remember me; and I kinda liked it that way.

I am sure even now there are other little ones there to stand on those floors instead of me, who get bored, confused and disillusioned, like I once was. I am only hoping a few out of them also get the opportunity in time, to know the real value of this place, and are able to experience the richness of the faith because of the patient love that emanates from this place..like the father of the prodigal son..