By Ramesh Kallidai
In a splendid display of civic responsibility, the invitation from the Archbishop of Canterbury to a faith community reception on 24 March urged guests to take public transport. Parking space at Lambeth Palace, the invitation explained in a rather apologetic manner, was limited.
I promptly took the Bakerloo line to Lambeth North, thinking of course that it would be a piece-of-cake to find the Palace. I couldn’t have been further off the mark – the cake seemed rather elusive and distant.
Every pedestrian I asked for help drew a blank stare. I managed with undue efficiency and resolute determination to firmly get lost in the concrete wilderness of Lambeth.
“Lambeth Palace? Never heard of it,” replied a puzzled woman, hurrying through the human traffic.
“I know its one of these buildings, but don’t know which one,” said an embarrassed grey-suited executive who squinted at me through thick glasses.
On the verge of dutiful exasperation, I suddenly noticed a black-robed priest sauntering along unhurriedly. With great joy and inspiration, I caught up with him and enquired if he knew the way to the blessed Palace. At last, redemption was within my reach – the kind looking priest gave me precise directions, and before you could say ‘Bless me father’, I was strolling through the gates of Lambeth Palace, full of immense relief and bereft of all anxiety.
I was taken aback to see the Archbishop himself standing at the door to welcome his guests with a handshake and a greeting. I had never before seen the temporal head of a country performing a gesture that was simple, yet so touching. It certainly spoke volumes about his sense of hospitality, practicality and solidarity.
Referring to the ‘clouds hanging above us’ the Archbishop said, “There is enough religion to hate, but not enough to love. But the truth that transforms us is so great that it can give us warmth, love and affection to help us.”
The Archbishop expressed his hope that he could work with the faith communities in the UK and listen to them. He also thanked his predecessor, Dr George Carey for the interfaith work he had initiated.
Later, I was speaking to Nitin Palan from the Swaminarayan Temple, and we bumped into Yusuf Bhailok, the former General Secretary of the Muslim Council of Britain. He greeted us warmly, pointed at Nitin and said, “What I like about Pramukh Swami, the head of your Mission is that he speaks my language – Gujarati.”
Lord Filkin, the Home Office Minister who is reviewing the Faith Agenda of the government, was standing next to us. He expressed a desire to visit the Neasden temple, which at the moment seems to be on the ‘most wanted’ list at Westminster.
A very aristocratic looking Rabbi elbowed us, looked back and apologised profusely. “Sorry, but my white beard can probably excuse my behaviour,” he laughed before stroking the free flowing apparition on his chin and making his way to the Archbishop, who greeted him with a genuine smile of recognition.
In the meantime, Inderjeet Singh from the Network of Sikh Organisations was having a whispered conversation with Michael Wine from the Community Security Trust, but still managed to look up and wave across the room.
Five minutes later, Ishwar Tailor from the Gujarat Hindu Society in Preston introduced Haribhai Shukla from Newcastle as an ‘unsung hero’. “He has just been awarded an OBE for his inter-faith work in the North,” he explained.
When I asked Haribhai if I could have his business card so I could interview him for my column, Ishwarbhai grinned from ear to ear with a “I-knew-you-would-do-just-that” twinkle in his eye.
I noticed Natubhai Shah, from the Jain Samaj wading through a few robed priests. He caught up with us and declared breathlessly, “We keep meeting the same people at every reception, don’t we?”
I looked at Ramanbhai Barber, President of the Sanatan Mandir in Leciester who was helping himself to finger-foods from a steward’s tray.
“Rameshbhai,” he smiled at me. “Won’t you try these screaming hot bhajiyas?”
I wondered philosophically if the bhajiya-ghost would ever stop following me at public functions.
The head of the Inner Cities Council for Religions caught my eye and introduced himself. “We have very able representation from the Hindu community through Bimal Krishna Dasa,” he explained. Bimal Krsna, as many people would know is the Secretary of the NCHT and the PRO for ISKCON Bhaktivedanta Manor.
Om Prakash Sharma, President of the NCHT joined Nitin Palan, Ishwarbhai Tailor and myself to discuss a plan for a meeting we were attending on 2nd April at the Home Office.
“What is the agenda at the meeting?” enquired Mr Sharma, with genuine concern.
Before I could answer, Deepak Naik from Birmingham swooped down on us and laughed. “So, it took the Archbishop to bring the Hindus together did it?” he enquired playfully.
There were silent smiles all round.