The Genial Mr. James

When my friends and I thought of taking a walk down some of the lanes of our city, it was mainly to look at some of the old houses and buildings that are being swallowed up by ‘development’. Their places are being taken by sleek, gleaming structures of granite and glass which lack both charm and character.

We were strolling along a narrow by-lane that was lined with old-fashioned houses, all sharing space with a few bakeries, cafes and shops, when we came across what looked like a collection of random old objects laid out by the side of the road. On closer inspection, it turned out to be a shrine of sorts; not to a particular deity or faith, but to several of them.

The setting was more grimy than fancy, there was a pile of waste at the back and a rough, concrete wall to one side. But as we looked a little more carefully, we noticed pictures, idols and objects that are used in prayer- all arranged in some kind of order.

They had probably been salvaged and assembled with great care and thought by someone. Someone who; on seeing us as we stopped to look at his display, walked up to us and told us that it was his collection. And that’s how we met Mr. James. Mr James was only too happy to tell us about his collection. He had not done this; he said, because he believed in any particular form of worship. These were objects he had collected along the way from places he had traveled to or worked in.

This was not a shrine or a place for people to come and pray. If any of the objects meant something to someone, they could take it away, use it in prayer and then bring it back.

We quickly understood that Mr James had a good amount of imagination and a streak of quirky that ran deep.

Notice the G that he had placed to resemble an ‘Om’. And the Christmas tree with the national flag at the top instead of the usual star! The paper bag with the name of a jewellery store is tacked on the wall to add a bit of colour, maybe?

For Mr James, all the plants had some significance. They were not just any plants, he claimed- even the straggly looking ones. A piece of wood in a basket was actually from a tree that grew in the Himalayas. A tree that had healing properties. All one had to do was rub the piece of wood on a stone, take the grains and dissolve them in water. Two drops of that water would cure the ailment, assured Mr James.

The pride of Mr James’s collection was undoubtedly a little box that he kept concealed behind the clock. He brought it out and showed it to us. The box had 4 little bottles containing sand, gravel and water. All of which, he told us, was from the river Jordan. The lettering on the box backed him up. We were suitably impressed by this treasure.

We need more Mr Jameses in the world today. They march to the beat of their own drummer, they see through layers of grime to find beauty and meaning and they willingly share it with all those who pass by.

Yes, I would like to visit Mr James again to see if he has added anything else to his collection. And to listen to his stories. I may even believe some of them!