In Sketches

Farewell Dear Fr. Chacko

     The news of the death of Fr. T.J. Chacko has left me somewhat in despair. I can do nothing about it except silently thank him and bid him farewell. I feel so bad that I am denied this final rite. I saw him last October and he looked healthier and happier than ever.  He gifted me his autobiography part II. I never thought that he could leave so fast. I always think of him because he is part of my vocation story. How much influence he has had on my path to priesthood I will never know, maybe I was too young to know or I am not willing to appreciate what I know. But I am too sure of too many things when it comes to how it all began.

     How much do I believe in the plan of God for me? I don’t know. But one thing is clear and everything seemed to unfold with the arrival of Fr. Chacko to Chingjaroi (my village) in 1980 as the first parish priest to pioneer the centre. Because that’s the first time I ever saw a priest and that’s the first time I ever step into a school (the school was then managed by the Church and subsequently absorbed into the new parish school the following year). With his arrival many things began to role in to the life of the Church in Chingjaroi as well. That’s the first time I went to a catechism class to prepare us for the First Communion. That’s the first time I ever saw teachers coming from outside the village (Ms Christina & Ms Sara). So many things were taking place in this first year and the following. I see Fr. Chaco everywhere – teaching songs now, a throw ball game or an Arabian flag game there, villages constructing a temporary thatch roof school, a boarding house, clearing the jungle for gardening, collecting dry firewood, clearing the path to the great dream of connecting road from Razai to Chingjaroi and the list can go on. All these left a great impression to the young boy. Perhaps for a little rustic like me, it was too great a dream to dream to be a priest but I guess I quietly desired to be one. The truth is, whenever I think of or speak of my vocation, he always takes the front seat. That says much and done to a little impressionable mind. 

     Today, I am still wondering how on earth I was able to get around him as a small boy. I mean we all knew him as a tough man, a disciplinarian and demanding and kept him as far away as possible. But for whatever reason, I happen to be one among the chosen ones to be there to mind the parish house and look after the pigs and chicks during the vacations when the boarders are home away. This personal care, trust and confidence placed on us later pay dividends – (two priests). Fr. Parvis was no different in this matter.

     Today, as the final rite is been celebrated I can only join from afar with the community of faithful of the diocese of Imphal along with the  bishop, priests, religious and his dear and loved ones. I join them all in commenting his spirit to the Lord.  I will always be ever grateful to him for what I am today. Farewell dear Father!

     I was just listening to this old song today and thought of him. Really, ‘What can I give you in return’ for all that you are to me and so are my friends and the many people for whom you toiled and labour and above all gave them Christ. We can only say we will miss you Father.