The church bell rang at 9:00 AM on Sunday. Heroka was in his hometown far from Dimapur. He brought his sidekick along with him. Raju said “Dada, church laga bell mari ase”.
“That’s not our church’s bell” replied Heroka as he tugged his shirt in his blue jeans.
He grabbed the church hymn book and searched for 1 Rupee coin which the shopkeeper gave him as change the other night. Another bell rang right after the first one stopped.
“That’s our church bell”
Heroka could make out by the beats of the bell. They had 5 different churches in their hometown and all the church bell had different type of beats.
“Righteousness and integrity should be the basic characteristics of a true Christian. That should be your identity and you have to carry your identity wherever you go” said the pastor in his sermon. He wore a silver blue coat suit and had a calm look. He was in his 50s and a father of 6.
“Follow the 10 commandments of the Lord” continued the pastor as Heroka listened carefully seated in the last bench, chewing talab more carefully lest anyone sees him. Just then a girl seated beside him poked him which sent an electric like vibration all over his body, he looked at her and be smiled.
“Do you have talab?”
This broke his smile and he looked expressionless like that Hotel Trivago commercial guy. He readily hands out a packet and placed it inside the church hymn book and gave to the girl.
“Thank you. I just need it for mouth freshening” said the girl as she returned the hymn book to Heroka.
In the evening, he went to pastor’s house with fruits and cookies which he brought from Dimapur especially for the pastor because the church had prophecized that 5 business men from their hometown residing in towns will die that year. The pastor was talking to a man who was probably from South India. He was the mathematics teacher of pastor’s youngest daughter.
“Since it’s Sunday, please teach her for an extra hour today, I will pay you extra. Also, please provide extra help to her for her exams which is due next week, God will bless you” said the pastor as he overheard them talking while entering.
“Welcome Heroka! I heard you were in town. I was about to pay you a visit, you shouldn’t have taken trouble coming here” and the conversation started as the teacher greeted them and walked to the other room. The next Sunday Heroka donated Rs. 50,000 and promised to start paying his ten tithe.
This is a pure work of fiction created by the author. Any resemblance in person living or dead, place or character is purely coincidental. Except of Dimapur, which is a real district in Nagaland.
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