‘Nuvem: A cautionary tale’, on Herald, September 12, 2018, caught my attention and provoked the writer within me to set some things straight.

To begin with, the article seems to have penned down in a paradoxical state of mind. Hence, I speak for Nuvem, hereinafter which shall be referred to as ‘my village’. The writer says, ‘The story of Nuvem is not one of burial but rather one of resurrection’, and at the very next instance she describes ‘my village’ as an ‘obscure village, not known for any heroic endeavour or greatness of accomplishment’. The very statement projects her ignorance about ‘my village’, for it has cradled sons and daughters, who have made their name and fame in every field of life.

Her speculative expression about the houses where she says ‘with shiny ceramic bathtubs with no running water’ really leaves one confused.

‘The Mae Dos Pobres Church is central to Nuvem pumping blood into the arterial veins of its social and political life.’ Once again I pity her clumsiness for; the church which she talks about is recognised as ‘Jesus Marie Jose’ church!’ And pray tell me, when she mentions about the coffers, does she want to hide the fact that ‘the grapes are sour for the fox?’

Further, ‘The church itself stands neglected and worn. Its winged extensions hacked off and its clergy house razed to the ground to make way for a new construction which coils like a serpent in the shade’ vents out so much of bitterness and hatred for the priests.

To cut my story short, I take the liberty to say that the frustration of the author is visible in the second half of the column. Her statements like ‘It resembles to a ruin rather than a functioning church’ or ‘The idea of constructing new churches to accommodate growing parishioners, is a mindless and savage attack on our heritage’ makes me sigh with compassion for the writer and thus I quote from the Bible, ‘Father, forgive them,(her) for they (she) do (does) not know what they (she) are (is) doing’. For, neither me nor ‘Jesus Marie Jose shall be surprised ‘for of thorns men do not gather figs, nor a bramble bush gather they grapes’.