The Angel (Part 3)

In the autumn of 1945, we had won a major battle at the large Cathedral of Montecassino but not before sadly bombing it to smithereens. I remember that fateful morning in April 1945 very well. I climbed onto the ruins of what must have been a beautiful structure. And then I realised looking out into the distance, it was the same summit from where I stood beside the rose winged one, months earlier to see the rest of the world filled with other angels. I sat down in awe. I did not tell anybody about my experience, for at the tender age of 17 thrown into the midst of battle, I did not have the chance to assimilate all that had been shown to me.

But even then, a change had occurred. I never hated the enemy again. I felt pity even sorrow for their deaths but realised that it was essential for the forces of Good to triumph over evil if this world was to keep living. I would always look to see if there was a winged one nearby, whether it was on the battlefield and even after the war ended. I was proud of the Indian effort, we lost 5,600 soldiers to keep the darkness of a Nazi world out forever.

Fear never ruled my life; neither did any emotions of hate. Over time I realised with the advent of other experiences that we are not alone, we are never alone. There are Angels who walk among us, talk with us and help us grow closer to God. All we need to do is open ourselves. The light is all around, we just need to open the doors of our hearts..

Epilogue:

I never doubted Grandpa’s experience for he was a remarkable man among men. Never claiming to be special he espoused the essence of service, humility and love to everyone he came across.

He passed away peacefully in his sleep many years later; my grandmother did not shed a tear, she believed as he did. She knew many, many things as well.

After his funeral that humid August afternoon, his ashes were scattered over the Ganges over the recitation of Sanskrit hymns and shlokas as he departed on his final journey to God and his beloved Angels. I sat by the banks of this ancient and Holy River with a knot in my throat and a heavy heart, I was missing him already. A thought of him flying among Angels, perhaps with wings of his own, passed my mind and that made me smile.

I felt a gust of wind brush my face and felt the stirrings of a mild shower from a passing cloud above. I looked upwards and closed my eyes to soak the gentle coolness of the drizzle.
After a few moments I looked down and there upon the ground, beside my feet lay..a white and rose coloured feather..