THE LONG TREK

Rehearsed to me by my (late) mother, Mary Pandit (Nee Nowrangi.)

The Bridal Procession

The chief priest of one of the kingdoms in Rajasthan, India, solemnly raised his hand, and, at the calculated auspicious moment, brought it down.

That was the signal for the bridal procession to begin. But this was no ordinary bridal procession.

Firstly, the bride-to-be was a princess of the kingdom, and so, this was a royal procession.

Secondly, the procession was destined to travel hundreds and hundreds of miles across the Indian peninsula to the State of erstwhile Bihar, where the groom, a prince, was awaiting his bride. The journey took weeks, for in the 1800s, the main method of travel was on horseback.

There were the attendants of the princess; representatives of the royal court; laborers, cooks and armed guards, who made up the entourage.

Among them was a family of the Brahmin caste. They were priests to the royal family, sent by the king, to make sure that the religious traditions would be maintained even when far away from home. That family was my ancestral root.

Setting Up Home

The extensive rituals of a royal wedding completed, it was time to settle down in the new place. The priest-family, treated with high respect, was granted a nice, fertile tract of land to begin their lives there. They cleared the land, planted gardens, tilled and worked the fields where they sowed and reaped grain. Soon, they were able to sustain themselves and became prosperous and rich. Life was good!

The Ruler

The small group grew to become a village, and was given the name Patpur (pronounced: part-poor.) The word “Pat” means spirit; and “pur” means place. So, Patpur was the place of the spirit.

Every village had a leader, and Patpur was no different. The name of the leader was Pat (spirit!) Pat was not a human, but neither was he a hazy, nebulous, ethereal being. He was visible, and circled his territory around midnight riding on a white horse with bells on its feet.

The women folk were forbidden to look out of the house for Pat, so the women did not see him. However, they heard the sound of the bells on the feet of the prancing horse. The men saw his form but not his face.

Worship of Pat

Pat demanded loyalty and worship. So, according to the rituals supervised by the priestly family, a large stone at the foot of a sal (species) tree was chosen as the spot at which the villagers could pay their obeisance to Pat by way of flowers, rice, coconuts, and incense etc. In turn, Pat promised prosperity, as long as he was worshipped.

An Unlikely Visitor

Patpur could be approached from a neighboring village via a footpath that led across a large open clearing of short, level grass. Anyone approaching the village could be seen while still a good way off.

One day a stranger was seen approaching the village. He was dressed in native garb, but was white-skinned. A shoulder bag hung across his shoulders, and he carried a book in his hand.

Suddenly, a figure, out of nowhere, accosted him on the path in the clearing. The figure was Pat!
The Conversation (which the villagers could hear)

Pat: “Where are you going? And for what purpose?”
Visitor: “I intend to visit this village, bringing the Gospel of Jesus.” And he pointed to his book and his shoulder bag.
Pat: “You cannot go into this village. You have no permission to do that.”
Visitor: “But I have been commissioned to go to all the world and spread the message.”
Pat: “You are not welcome here!”
Visitor: “We can find that out when I talk to the people.”
Pat: “No, you cannot speak to them.”
Visitor: “Who are you?”
Pat: “I am Pat!” The voice was firm and declarative, with an air of finality in it. Everyone in the whole region knew about Pat!
Visitor: “But I am determined to go into the village.”
Pat: “But you will not!” And with those words, he stamped his feet apart across the path, and folded his arms over his chest in defiance.

The visitor took a long look at Pat; then slowly put the book into his shoulder bag; unslung the bag from his shoulder; put it on the ground beside the path; folded his sleeves up, and said, “If you physically obstruct me, I will physically remove you from my path!!”

The Physical Tussle

The visitor and Pat locked into a physical wrestling match, keenly watched by the villagers from a distance. Back and forth they went on the ground; one putting the other down only to be over-powered by the other. The pushing and pulling, gripping and grunting went on and on under the hot midday sun, until the visitor finally had Pat in a choke-hold, and Pat surrendered. And suddenly, he was gone, just as mysteriously as he had appeared.

The visitor picked up his bag, brushed himself, and made his way into the village, with the villagers stepping aside to give him way, in respect and admiration, for he had defeated Pat!

Christianity Enters Patpur

When the visitor told the villagers the purpose of his visit, they were eager to listen. They could not have imagined anyone defeating Pat, but this man had done it! Therefore he must have more power than Pat!

He stayed for a few days under the hospitality provided by the villagers and my ancestors. He taught them the simple, powerful story of Jesus from his book, the Bible. My ancestors, the leading family in the village, accepted the Gospel and chose to follow Jesus.

The Cost of Discipleship

Soon after my ancestors accepted Jesus, Pat, through some intermediaries, sent in a message to Patpur: “Remember who has blessed your crops all these years. I have the permission to tell you that anyone who rejects me and accepts Jesus, will be under a curse. I will remove all my blessings from that household!”

This was no idle threat! And even though they had decided for Jesus, the threat raised grave concerns in my ancestor’s household. This was a time to make a critical decision. They struggled through it mentally, but finally decided for Jesus. Soon the returns from the field began to dwindle, and by the time my mother was a young girl, the once rich and flourishing family had been reduced to near penury. They had opted to be poor in this world’s goods.

Choosing the SDA Movement

As my mother grew into adulthood, one of her elder brothers, attended a meeting in which the speaker seemed to point to the Bible for every idea he was trying to convey.

This was new to him, for no one else was as confident that the tenets of belief were grounded in the Bible, and no one else could show it so clearly.

He kept on attending the series. He encouraged my mother to also think along the same lines as the speaker, and she too began to see the Biblical base of the teachings. By the time the series ended, they decided to join the movement that the speaker pointed to, and were baptized as Seventh-day

Adventists.
In the Minority

Thus, I was born into a Seventh-day Adventist family. The population in India, over a billion, is majority Hindu, numbering more than 900 million. The next in number are the Muslims, followed by the Sikhs, Bahai and Buddhists. The Christians are a small minority, and among them the Seventh-day Adventist are an even smaller minority. Looking back, I marvel at this story, a story of providence.

Epilogue

I do not know the name of that missionary visitor; I have never met my ancestors who made that decision to remain Christians despite terrifying threats; but one day, I trust I shall see them, and in the presence of Jesus, I shall thank them from the bottom of my heart!!

© Subodh K Pandit MD