Carlo Torriani

SWARGA DWAR

The conversion of a catholic missionary

presented by

Card. Simon Pimenta

PIME Publications, PIME Regional House, Eluru - 534 0-07, A.P., India

USED CLOTHES

Letter No. 43, September 1993

Dear Friends,

    Two days ago, nine young people who spent their summer holiday in Swarga Dwar, sharing our life, left and went back to Italy. This morning, while I was preparing myself for the celebration of Sunday Mass, I lifted up my eyes and I saw in front of me the striped shirt of Francesca, one of the girls who had been here. Janardhan was wearing it  together with the trousers of Daniele. I looked around and I realised nearly every one was showing off new clothes just acquired. Ram Singh was having a red tee-shirt of Michela.  Tanaji was all white: white jeans of Renata, white canvass shoes of somebody else. Also Abdul Asiz, 70 years old, who had never abandoned his white doti, today is dressed in shorts, with a tee-shirt and a blue cap with written “Elicotteri Polizia”. As a good Muslim he must have thought to come to pray covering his head.

It was looking like a carnival, but for me it was a serious matter. I was feeling embarrassed and humiliated for the loss of their customs and culture. But I noticed that, unusually, they were all wearing socks. First I thought that was the limit of their show-off. I never wear socks in India. But in a second time I understood that the socks for them is a necessity because they cover their wounds and deformities of their feet.

I stared at Luigina and both of us had a smile. But my smile turned away when I remembered that a few months ago one of my relations came to see me and remarked that I was wearing the trousers of my brother in law and the shirt of my uncle. As usual we laugh of the others but we are not able to laugh at ourselves. When my relation made me to realise I remained a little disconcerted. It is true: I also take advantage of the used clothes that come from abroad and wear them. I do it out of parsimony and in spirit of poverty. Never the less I understood how humiliating may be to have to dress with clothes already used by somebody else. I wanted to tell them: ”Throw away these clothes! It is better to wear our dotis and our kurtas and not to become an harlequin.

But that was what I was thinking. What were they thinking?

Another memory came to my mind about used clothes. I remembered my mother showing an old album of photos with all of us children on the day of our first communion: five sons and four daughters. My mother was pleased to remark that all were wearing the same ceremonial dress, navy blue for boys and white for girls, carefully preserved and adapted by her tailoring skill, to the different heights.  Then I understood that parsimony is a virtue that can win also the humiliation of wearing used clothes. I understood that this is what the West has lost with the consumerism imposed by the ever-changing fashion and our guests in Swarga Dwar can regain coming to India.

The risk is their. If they leave their clothes here because they want to renounce and to share, they will gain. If they leave the used only to be free to buy something more fashionable, then they lose.