Extract : Ravi says a prayer

Ravi stood with the other mourners. His eyes closed, right hand gently knocking his heart, feet firmly together, facing Jerusalem.

May His great Name grow exalted and sanctified (`Congregation: Amen.)

While he whispered the words in low hushed tones, he replayed the movie in his head – every memory he could remember of his father.

in the world that He created as He willed.

He struggled to stop one memory from merging with another. Sometimes he began the recitation standing on the rocks looking for Mikey. He would fight the image as he raced through the neighbourhood on his bicycle – arriving at Mikey’s house, front door locked, garage closed, and no bicycle leaning against the wall.

May He give reign to His kingship in your lifetimes and in your days,

It was important to him to keep each discrete aspect separate to avoid the movie from becoming one gushing memory and turning his tenure of the reminiscences into a bedlam of a single scrambled collage. But it was hard; sometimes he found himself on the bottom of the ocean groping for Mikey, other times he could hear his mother’s voice “and a one pliette … and a two … no… no … no … AGAIN.” Or the sounds of his friends chanting for the rugby team while he studied Torah with Rabbi Bender.

and in the lifetimes of the entire Family of Israel,

He separated the memory of his mother too, for fear of coalescing their existence and the part each had played in his life. In between the frames, he would see himself diving on the grenade, and whispering the words “I am the Angel of Death… I am the Angel of Death” as he stared into the haunting icy blue eyes of Buckle-Eye.

swiftly and soon. Now say: (Amen. May His great Name be blessed forever and ever.)

Ravi knew each year he would have to remember, each time he was called to recite the Kaddish as a mourner or as a Rabbi – he would have to play their movies.  Sometimes the images would be so bright. Today a new image appeared. It was Shanti. Her hand in front of him, willing him to touch it, to greet her, to feel her skin and drink her scent.

Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled,

Her voice echoed in his mind. “My friends call me Shanti … My friends call me Shanti …” A vision of her finger almost touching his ear focused on the canvas. As each memory re-enacted itself;

mighty, upraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One

each word re-played itself;

Blessed is He.

and each action recounted itself

beyond any blessing and song,

Ravi bowed slightly; each one would reconnect him to his source

praise and consolation that are uttered in the world. Now say: Amen

– bring him closer in that instant to his departed and elevate their souls.

May there be abundant peace from Heaven

Every rocking motion was a tribute from Ravi to his parents

and life upon us and upon all Israel. Now say: Amen

and that was his gift to their souls in thanks. Sometimes, the image that greeted Ravi was the orange moon that beckoned when he lay next to Mikey on the beach.

He Who makes peace in His heights, may He make peace

But, for as long as Ravi could,

upon us and upon all Israel.

he would separate and remember more memories and cherish them as the last remains of his parents on this earth.

Now say:  Amen (`Cong: Amen.)

Ravi stood with his eyes closed retaining the last image of his father in his mind, before it whited out, but today his final image was that of Shanti’s lips slipping into a smile.