From playing on Mumbai’s streets to preparing India for a clash against Brazil, the 36-year-old strength and conditioning coach credits his Catholic upbringing, family and faith for shaping his journey.
For a boy who grew up playing football on the streets of Bandra, preparing India for a match against Brazil would have seemed an unlikely dream. Yet, on October 3, when the Blue Tigers take on the five-time world champions in Kolkata, Manuel D’Souza will be part of the Indian team’s backroom staff, entrusted with ensuring the players are physically ready for one of the biggest tests of their careers.
The 36-year-old, who played under India coach Khalid Jamil at Mumbai FC, has come a long way from his days as a midfielder. Injuries forced him to reconsider his playing career, eventually leading him into strength and conditioning, a discipline he believes was missing during his own playing days.
Today, he is responsible for managing the national team’s training loads, recovery and injury prevention. But away from the GPS reports, training sessions and demands of international football, D’Souza remains firmly rooted in the Catholic faith in which he was raised.
For him, the journey from Bandra’s football grounds to the Indian national team is as much about gratitude as it is about hard work. “Everything I’ve got in life is because of God,” he says. “I believe I’ve been privileged and blessed with a lot more than what I have asked for in life.”
A parishioner of Mount Carmel Church in Bandra, D’Souza credits his family, particularly his grandmother and mother, for laying the foundations of his faith. Growing up in Bandra, surrounded by a close-knit Catholic community, meant that going to church and attending catechism classes were part of everyday life. His grandmother, in particular, was uncompromising when it came to Sunday Mass.
“Sunday Mass was Sunday Mass. You weren’t getting lunch if you didn’t go to Mass,” he recalls with a laugh. “Catechism classes were compulsory, too.”
Looking back, he is grateful for that upbringing. “I would give the credit to my family for bringing me up the way they did. My granny and my mother were very important people who played a part in my faith.”
It was not simply about following rules. His family introduced him to a way of life that he gradually embraced on his own. “They never forced it on me. They told me what they believed in, and I liked doing it.”
That commitment has stayed with him even as football has taken him across the country and into the demanding environment of the national team. Travelling with the Indian squad means packed schedules, tactical meetings, training sessions and recovery work. Finding time for church can be difficult, but D’Souza makes it a point to do so.
During a recent stint in Bengaluru (where they played against Panama), despite a busy schedule, he found 20 minutes to visit St Mary’s Basilica there. “Even if I can’t attend Mass, I try to visit a church, go to the chapel and pray. That is a must for me, wherever I am.”
Prayer is also part of his professional routine. He begins and ends his training sessions with prayer, taking a moment to acknowledge the opportunity he has been given. His understanding of prayer has evolved with age. “I’ve come to a point in life where I’ve stopped asking and started saying thank you. The more mature I get, the more I understand that thanking is more important than asking.”
D’Souza represented Maharashtra at the junior level, earned a call-up to the India U-17 team and went on to play for Mahindra United and Mumbai FC. At Mumbai FC, Jamil handed him his senior league debut and coached him for seven years. Today, the two are together again, with Jamil as India’s head coach and D’Souza responsible for the team’s physical preparation.
The transition from player to coach was born out of his own struggles. During his playing days, D’Souza felt that strength and conditioning, nutrition and recovery were areas Indian football had not given sufficient attention to.
He decided to study the discipline. He trained and studied further, earning Australian strength and conditioning certifications and qualifications in areas including TRX, kettlebell training and the American Council on Exercise (ACE). He also completed an internship in New York. He has since worked with footballers across Mumbai, as well as athletes in kabaddi and other sports, while running his own training centre and athlete-development programmes.
For D’Souza, the upcoming encounter against Brazil is a dream realised, albeit from a different position than he had once imagined.
“Not as a player, but as a coach, I’ll take this. What more can you ask for?”
ANIL DIAS
Introduction
The devil Screwtape, high-up in the Infernal Civil Service, writes to his nephew, Wormwood, a young demon new to securing the damnation of human souls. From the unique vantage point of the worldly-wise devil, C. S. Lewis follows the struggles, crises of faith and fresh convictions of one ordinary young man against Hell's perpetual cycle of corruption. This sly and ironic portrayal of human foibles and Hell's latest novelties is a masterpiece of satire. At once wildly comic, deadly serious and strikingly original, The Screwtape Letters is the most engaging account of temptation – and triumph over it – ever written.
The third letter in the book is reproduced below.
My dear Wormwood,
I am very pleased by what you tell me about this man's relations with his mother. But you must press your advantage. The Enemy will be working from the centre outwards, gradually bringing more and more of the patient's conduct under the new standard, and may reach his behaviour to the old lady at any moment. You want to get in first. Keep in close touch with our colleague Glubose who is in charge of the mother, and build up between you in that house a good settled habit of mutual annoyance; daily pinpricks. The following methods are useful.
1. Keep his mind on the inner life. He thinks his conversion to the faith is something inside him, and his attention is therefore chiefly turned at present to the states of his own mind--or rather to that very expurgated version of them which is all you should allow him to see. Encourage this. Keep his mind off the most elementary duties by directing it to the most advanced and spiritual ones. Aggravate that most useful human characteristic, the horror and neglect of the obvious. You must bring him to a condition in which he can practise self-examination for an hour without discovering any of those facts about himself which are perfectly clear to anyone who has ever lived in the same house with him or worked in the same office.
2. It is, no doubt, impossible to prevent his praying for his mother, but we have means of rendering the prayers innocuous. Make sure that they are always very 'spiritual', that he is always concerned with the state of her soul, and never with her rheumatism. Two advantages will follow. In the first place, his attention will be kept on what he regards as her sins, by which, with a little guidance from you, he can be induced to mean any of her actions which are inconvenient or irritating to himself. Thus, you can keep rubbing the wounds of the day a little sorer even while he is on his knees; the operation is not at all difficult, and you will find it very entertaining. In the second place, since his ideas about her soul will be very crude and often erroneous, he will, in some degree, be praying for an imaginary person, and it will be your task to make that imaginary person daily less and less like the real mother – the sharp-tongued old lady at the breakfast table. In time, you may get the cleavage so wide that no thought or feeling from his prayers for the imagined mother will ever flow over into his treatment of the real one. I have had patients of my own so well in hand that they could be turned at a moment's notice from impassioned prayer for a wife's or son's 'soul' to beating or insulting the real wife or son without a qualm.
3. When two humans have lived together for many years, it usually happens that each has tones of voice and expressions of face which are almost unendurably irritating to the other. Work on that. Bring fully into the consciousness of your patient that particular lift of his mother's eyebrows which he learned to dislike in the nursery, and let him think how much he dislikes it. Let him assume that she knows how annoying it is and does it to annoy--if you know your job he will not notice the immense improbability of the assumption. And, of course, never let him suspect that he has tones and looks which similarly annoy her. As he cannot see or hear himself, this is easily managed.
4. In civilised life domestic hatred usually expresses itself by saying things which would appear quite harmless on paper (the words are not offensive) but in such a voice, or at such a moment, that they are not far short of a blow in the face. To keep this game up you and Glubose must see to it that each of these two fools has a sort of double standard. Your patient must demand that all his own utterances are to be taken at their face value and judged simply on the actual words, while at the same time judging all his mother's utterances with the fullest and most over-sensitive interpretation of the tone and the context and the suspected intention. She must be encouraged to do the same to him. Hence, from every quarrel, they can both go away convinced, or very nearly convinced, that they are quite innocent. You know the kind of thing: 'I simply ask her what time dinner will be, and she flies into a temper.' Once this habit is well established, you have the delightful situation of a human saying things with the express purpose of offending, and yet having a grievance when offence is taken.
Finally, tell me something about the old lady's religious position. Is she at all jealous of the new factor in her son's life? at all piqued that he should have learned from others, and so late, what she considers she gave him such good opportunity of learning in childhood? Does she feel he is making a great deal of 'fuss' about it, or that he's getting in on very easy terms? Remember the elder brother in the Enemy's story?
Your affectionate uncle,
SCREWTAPE
Reading and discussing the classics make us better human beings.
Classical educators have always touted liberal learning as inherently humanising. The ultimate purpose of education is to make us better people, to cultivate wisdom and virtue, not simply provide career preparation. The ancients referred to classical education as liberal and humane, emphasising virtuous participation in a free society. By living a wise and virtuous life, one is able to fulfil the purpose of his humanity (thus, the term humane). As H.I. Marrou said, “Classical education aimed at developing men as men, not as cogs in a political machine or bees in a hive.” Similarly, John Stuart Mill said, “Men are men before they are lawyers, or physicians, or merchants, or manufacturers; and if you make them capable and sensible men, they will make themselves capable and sensible lawyers or physicians.” The goal of education is not utilitarian; it is humane.
The content, the means by which this humanising occurs, is the liberal arts, rooted in the classics. The classic texts “not only exhibit distinguished style, fine artistry, and keen intellect, but create whole universes of imagination and thought.” They portray life as complex and multi-faceted, illustrating human glory and tragedy, beautifully depicting the drama of man’s most significant struggles. The classics uproot our assumptions and display epic human struggles. They compel us to examine our own lives, and contemplate what is good, true, and beautiful. The impact on the reader is transformative.
In Werner Jaeger’s summary of Socrates’ teaching, he states, “Education is not the cultivation of certain branches of knowledge… The real essence of education is that it enables men to reach the true aim of their lives.” The classics provide an education that indeed requires us to struggle with the true aim of our lives. By doing so, they make us better men and women.
Reading the classics keeps us from acting as Cyclops.
Immanuel Kant, the dense and controversial 18th century German philosopher, railed at his students for being Cyclops. “What constitutes them as Cyclops is not their strength,” as Fredeirich Paulsen points out, “but the fact that they only have one eye; they see things only from a single standpoint, that of their own specialty.” The task of philosophy and learning, according to Kant, is to furnish us with a second eye. According to Kant, “The second eye is the self-knowledge of human reason, without which we can have no proper estimate of the extent of our knowledge.” While we may argue with Kant concerning the identity of the second eye, or what it should be, his point that education broadens one’s perspective is indisputable.
The classics “lift the readers out of narrowness and provincialism into a wider vision of humanity.” They help us see our lives, our vocations, and our culture through a broad lens. Polymaths such as Plato, Cicero, Augustine, Aquinas, Descartes, Milton, and Jefferson were able to draw from a sea of ideas found in the ancients. They studied Maths, Science, History, Economics, Theology, Philosophy, Literature, and virtually everything else. From their broadly informed perspectives, the great thinkers of the West were able to make incredible contributions to society, and move from one subject to another with ease and enjoyment. Their immersion in, and facility with, the classics provided a liberating, expansive, two-eyed vision that enriched their understanding and mitigated the narrow short-sightedness of specialisation.
Reading the classics compels us to ask the most important questions of life.
Hegel referred to a classic as “a question, an address to the responsive breast, a call to the mind and the spirit.” Think of the enduring questions that have emerged from the great texts of Western civilisation: Is man free? Does God exist? What is the nature of the universe? How do we know truth? Does man have a soul? What type of government is best?
The classics provide enduring questions of a transcendent quality. That is, they ask questions that continue to be asked again and again, despite ages and sages. The classics present questions that are profound, or even very simple, that exceed human comprehension, yet if not asked, detract from our humanity. Enduring questions are ones that challenge the greatest minds and intrigue the simplest ones (i.e. children). They make life engaging and interesting. Enduring questions lead to more questions and to thoughtful, soul-searching reflection about great ideas. The classics ask these questions like no other texts we encounter.
The classics compel us to ask who we are, why we are here, what is true, and what is good. We are obliged to struggle with Hamlet’s gut-wrenching turmoil over whether to seek retribution and justice. We are faced with Achilles’ dilemma, when he proclaims:
I carry two sorts of destiny towards the day of my death.
Either, if I stay here and fight beside the city of the Trojans,
My return home is gone, but my glory shall be everlasting;
But if I return home to the beloved land of my fathers,
The excellence of my glory is gone, but there will be a long life left for me
And my end in death will not come to me quickly. (Iliad)
These kinds of texts prompt weighty questions. How do we respond to feelings of retribution? What do we value as our legacy? For what are we willing to die? Thus, the classics ask us the most penetrating and humanising questions in ways that capture our imagination and emotions. Andrew Kern, President of the CiRCE Institute, once asserted, “The quality of your life depends upon the quality of the questions you ask.” If he is right, we ought to read the classics.
Why Christians should read and discuss the classics.
Robert Lundin claimed, “The Christian student of culture would never wish to confuse the power of the classic with the authority of the Scriptures. The Bible is the Word of God, while the greatest classics are only supreme embodiments of human insight.” Nevertheless, we would be wrong to dismiss them, simply because they are not authoritative in the same way as Scripture. The most influential Christian thinkers in Church history read and engaged with the classics. Augustine, Luther, Calvin, Aquinas, and many others understood classical languages and literature, having been educated in the liberal arts tradition.
They recognised the value of conversing with the great ideas of the West, even while “taking every thought captive for Christ.” They grasped the controversies with which the Church struggled, and were able to both think carefully and speak persuasively about truth in their own age. These men of God possessed the ability to think biblically, and in Pauline fashion, could plunder the pagans. They could employ apologetic skill by thinking thoroughly and carefully about the opposing philosophies of their time. These scholars could empathise with their detractors, and yet speak boldly from an informed understanding. While there have certainly been those, like Tertullian, who would condemn any association between Athens and Jerusalem, there are many more, such as Basil, who saw the value of young Christians stimulated to exercise their discernment through a wise engagement with pagan literature.
Ultimately, if classical education (reading the classics) is about who we are as human beings, and not what we do for a living (our vocation); if it is about who we become, and not what skill we can perform, we must have an ideal for what, or rather whom, we should be like. Jesus is the full expression of what it means to be human, and thus is the ultimate aim of education. He is Truth and Wisdom incarnate. In Christ, the apostle Paul declares, are “all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (Col 2:8). He embodies truth and virtue. Therefore, we must seek to conform our lives to knowing Him and being like Him. In our pursuit towards becoming better human beings, we must keep the Incarnate Christ, the perfect human being, as our standard. Understanding this truth provides a rich and unique approach to the humanities by examining the enduring questions of man in the light of God’s revelation through His Son.
Eric Cook, Society for Classical Learning
One evening (when I was doing my Regency in one of our schools), long after the other classrooms had emptied, I noticed a light still burning in one of them. Inside, a student sat alone, wiping away tears. She had failed an important test.
Her teacher did not rush to offer advice. She pulled up a chair and sat beside her.
“One bad result does not decide who you are,” she said. “We will try again.”
Nothing dramatic happened. No music swelled. No one applauded. Yet I have never forgotten that moment. A teacher had done more than respond to a failed test; she had interrupted a child’s growing belief that failure defined her.
That was the evening teaching stopped looking to me like a job, and began to look like a calling.
More Than a Lesson
Teaching is, without question, a profession. It requires training, preparation, patience, knowledge, and discipline. Every teacher enters the classroom with a lesson to deliver and responsibilities to fulfil.
But somewhere between the opening greeting and the final bell, something more begins to happen. A teacher is not only explaining a subject; a teacher is helping form a person.
That is the difference between a profession and a vocation. A profession tells us what we are trained to do. A vocation keeps asking why the work matters.
Scripture says, “As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another” (1 Peter 4:10). Teaching can be such a gift. The best teachers do not merely transfer information. They awaken possibility. They help a student ask a question without fear, make a mistake without shame, and begin again without giving up.
The Vision to Notice
Good teachers possess a special kind of attentiveness. They notice the student who never raises her hand; not necessarily because she lacks the answer, but because she is afraid of being wrong. They notice the child who is quietly struggling and has learned to hide it. They recognise the student who has turned one disappointing mark into a verdict on his entire future.
Often, the most important lesson in a classroom is not written on the board.
It may be a word of encouragement offered at the right moment. It may be a second chance given before the student knows how to ask for one. It may be the simple assurance: “You are capable of more than this result suggests.”
“Encourage one another and build each other up,” says Scripture (1 Thessalonians 5:11). Few professions offer so many daily opportunities to practise those words.
The Work Nobody Sees
To call teaching a vocation should not mean pretending that it is easy. Teachers become tired—sometimes profoundly tired. Behind every well-managed class are hours of planning, marking, preparation, and difficult conversations. There are evenings when teachers return home wondering whether anything they said truly reached their students.
Much of the work is invisible.
A teacher may spend an hour preparing a lesson that appears to unfold effortlessly. A carefully chosen question may help one student understand an idea that had seemed impossible. A quiet conversation after class may prevent a young person from withdrawing completely.
The results are not always immediate. Some seeds take years to appear. A former student may forget a formula, a date, or a definition. But years later, that student may still remember the teacher who said, “You can do this,” and truly meant it. They may remember the person who listened when nobody else did, or who saw ability where they saw only disappointment. That is where teaching moves beyond instruction, and becomes care.
Truth With Compassion
Jesus was repeatedly called “Teacher” in the Gospels. He taught through questions, stories, patience, and compassion. He welcomed children when His disciples tried to send them away, reminding everyone present that they mattered (Mark 10:13-16). He met people where they were, yet never left them without hope. He combined truth with love.
Good teaching still carries something of that pattern. It does not lower standards or confuse kindness with indulgence. Instead, it tells the truth in a way that gives people the strength to face it. A teacher can say, “This work is not yet good enough,” without saying, “You are not good enough.” That distinction can shape a life.
Vocation Without Self-Erasure
Yet, vocation must never become an excuse to demand endless sacrifice from teachers. Teachers are not machines, and dedication should not require them to ignore their own need for rest, support, dignity, and fair conditions. A healthy calling does not consume the person who answers it. It gives meaning to the work, while recognising the humanity of the worker.
Teachers need encouragement too. They also need colleagues who stand beside them, institutions that value their labour, and communities willing to share responsibility for the education and well-being of children. When teachers are cared for, they are better able to offer care. When their work is respected, they can give more freely without having to prove their worth through exhaustion.
The Legacy That Remains
Teaching is both a profession and a vocation. The profession asks for competence; the vocation asks for commitment. The profession demands preparation; the vocation supplies purpose. The best teachers do not choose between the two. They bring knowledge and compassion into the same room, day after day.
A teacher’s deepest legacy may never appear on a report card. It may be found in the student who gains the courage to speak, the graduate who chooses integrity, or the young person who learns that failure is an event, not an identity.
Perhaps that is why the teacher in the empty classroom remains unforgettable.
She did not change the world through a grand speech. She simply stayed when leaving would have been easier. She sat beside a disappointed student and helped her prepare for another attempt.
Teaching is work. It is demanding work, skilled work, and often unseen work. But when knowledge is joined to patience, and responsibility is joined to love, teaching becomes something more. It becomes a calling.
And sometimes, in the quietest room after the final bell, it becomes sacred work.
Fr Dr John Singarayar SVD is the Director of the Institute of Indian Culture, Mumbai, a Post-graduate Research Centre in Anthropology and Sociology affiliated to the University of Mumbai.
India’s Constitution does not merely permit religion; it protects the individual’s freedom of conscience. Article 25 guarantees every person the freedom of conscience and the right freely to profess, practise and propagate religion, subject to Constitutional limitations. Article 21 protects life and personal liberty, encompassing dignity, autonomy and the freedom to make deeply personal choices. Together, these guarantees establish a fundamental principle: matters of faith ultimately belong to the conscience of the individual.
This principle — that “matters of faith ultimately belong to the conscience of the individual” — assumes particular importance as the Maharashtra Freedom of Religion Act, 2026, came into force on August 28, 2026. The law is intended to prohibit conversions brought about through force, coercion, fraud, misrepresentation, undue influence or unlawful inducement.
The Catholic Church has always been against ‘forced conversion’, but it is also for safeguarding the right of every individual to voluntarily convert to any religion of one’s choice. Hence, it supports the legitimate objective of the State of protecting a person from being forced or deceived into changing one’s religion. No person should be compelled to abandon his or her faith.
Equally, however, no person should be prevented from voluntarily embracing another faith, practising it or declining to follow any religion at all. The danger, therefore, lies not necessarily in the stated objective of the law but in the manner in which such legislation can be interpreted, enforced or misused.
The evidence from other States, coupled with recent events in Maharashtra, demonstrates why concerns about the misuse of the law cannot simply be dismissed. The Maharashtra legislation contains ambiguous and broad concepts of ‘allurement’, ‘coercion’, ‘undue influence’, ‘brainwashing’ and other forms of allegedly unlawful conversion. It also establishes burdensome procedures involving prior notice and declarations, and allows complaints by specified relatives of a person alleged to have been converted. Also, the punishment is very harsh and disproportionate, creating a chilling effect. Besides, if even two people convert together to another religion of their choice, the law treats it as “mass conversion”, carrying severe penalties.
This creates an obvious question: how does the State distinguish a genuinely forced conversion from a voluntary decision made by an adult exercising freedom of conscience?
That question becomes particularly urgent when allegations are initiated not by the person supposedly subjected to coercion, but by outsiders. A third party may object to a person attending a church, reading the Bible, receiving religious instruction, speaking with a pastor, or even participating in prayer. But disagreement, suspicion or ideological hostility cannot, by themselves, establish coercion.
Indeed, the first signs of a chilling effect of such broad concepts in the legislation are already visible. Churches in the Mumbai Metropolitan Region, including areas such as Vasai, Virar, Mira-Bhayandar and Thane, have reportedly begun asking worshippers to sign declarations stating that they are attending prayer meetings voluntarily and without pressure, inducement or threat. The reported practice has emerged against a background of disruptions of Christian prayer meetings and FIRs arising from such incidents. This should concern every Indian, irrespective of religion.
A citizen should not have to sign an “innocence certificate” before entering a place of worship. A Hindu entering a temple does not ordinarily have to establish that nobody induced him to pray. A Muslim entering a mosque does not have to declare that nobody pressured him to worship. A Sikh entering a gurdwara does not have to prove that he has not been “influenced”. Christians should enjoy exactly the same Constitutional dignity.
The State must, therefore, establish clear safeguards against misuse.
First, a mere allegation must never be treated as evidence of unlawful conversion. Police should be required to conduct a preliminary, objective assessment before taking coercive action against a religious gathering, pastor, priest, volunteer or institution. The fact that a person attended a prayer meeting, received religious literature, heard preaching or accepted ordinary charitable assistance cannot, by itself, establish unlawful conversion.
Second, the alleged victim’s own statement must receive central importance. Where an adult categorically states that participation in religious activity or a change of faith was voluntary, that statement cannot casually be displaced by the assertion of a third party, merely because the third party disapproves of the person’s decision.
Third, religious worship must be protected from vigilante interference. No private individual, political organisation or self-appointed religious group has the authority to enter a prayer meeting, interrogate worshippers, disrupt worship, threaten participants, or conduct its own “investigation”. The Constitution does not permit citizens to become investigator, prosecutor and judge. If there is evidence of an offence, the police — not a mob — must investigate it.
Fourth, the law must be enforced equally and consistently. If entering a school in Latur without permission promptly results in the filing of an FIR, then by the same standard, when right-wing fundamentalists, under the pretext of preventing forced conversion, trespass onto Christian premises, disrupt a prayer meeting, intimidate those present, destroy property, and assault people, an FIR should likewise be filed promptly.
Fifth, legitimate charitable and social service must not be criminalised by association. Christian schools, hospitals, clinics, orphanages, NGOs and charitable institutions serve millions of Indians, irrespective of faith. A Christian doctor treating a Hindu patient is not thereby attempting conversion. A Christian teacher educating a Hindu child is not thereby committing an offence. Providing food, medical care, education or assistance to a poor family cannot automatically become evidence of religious inducement.
Finally, the State must issue clear operational safeguards to police and district authorities before the law becomes a vehicle for intimidation. Complaints should be scrutinised objectively; frivolous or malicious allegations should have consequences; police officers should protect peaceful worship; and allegations of violence or disruption by vigilante groups should be investigated independently and promptly.
The answer to unlawful conversion is not to create an atmosphere in which every act of Christian worship is viewed with suspicion. Nor is it to place minorities under a permanent obligation to prove their innocence.
A person must be free not to convert. But a person must also be free, subject to the Constitutional rights of others, to choose a religion, practise it, change it, or reject religion altogether. Protecting that freedom is not a concession to minorities. It is an obligation imposed upon the State by the Constitution.
Maharashtra can enforce its Freedom of Religion Act firmly without allowing it to become an instrument of intimidation. It can punish genuine coercion, fraud and deception, while protecting voluntary faith. It can investigate allegations without criminalising prayer. It can protect vulnerable citizens without treating minorities as presumptively guilty.
The test of the law will not be how many FIRs are registered. It will be whether genuine victims of coercion are protected without making innocent worshippers afraid to pray.
A democracy is truly free only when its minorities can practise their faith without fear and with their heads held high.
From August 28 onward, the Maharashtra Government must ensure that freedom of religion means precisely that: freedom — not curtailing of freedom. The Constitutional rights of citizens cannot be protected merely on paper. They must be protected in the prayer hall, in the church, in the home, in the school, in the hospital, and in every place where conscience is exercised.
Bp Savio Fernandes is Auxiliary Bishop, Archdiocese of Bombay
The conscience of our nation has been deeply shaken by the distressing scenes witnessed at Jantar Mantar. Across the country, people have watched with disbelief as young students, peacefully protesting and demanding accountability for repeated examination irregularities and paper leaks, were met with force.
The images of students being lathi-charged, tear-gassed and injured have left an indelible mark on the national conscience. Whatever one's political persuasion, the sight of our young people being subjected to such treatment while exercising their democratic right to peaceful protest is profoundly disturbing.
Reports and videos from the protest indicate that the overwhelming majority of the students conducted themselves peacefully. They raised slogans, displayed placards, sang songs and used humour, satire and memes to convey their frustration with a system that they believe has repeatedly failed them. Many observers have also pointed to incidents that appeared to be attempts by certain individuals to provoke the protesters into violence. Yet, despite these provocations, the students largely remained peaceful and disciplined. Their restraint deserves recognition and appreciation.
The response of the authorities, however, has raised serious questions. A democratic government has every right, and indeed the duty, to maintain law and order. But that responsibility must always be exercised with restraint, proportionality and respect for the dignity of every citizen.
Allegations regarding the use of excessive force, including lathi-charge (some lathis allegedly with nails), tear gas and pellet guns, have become the subject of public concern and judicial scrutiny. The Supreme Court has directed that all relevant records be preserved and has observed that pellet guns are to be used only in exceptional circumstances. These developments underscore the need for a full, impartial, just and transparent investigation into what transpired.
Once it is established that excessive or unlawful force was used against peaceful protesters, those responsible - not merely those who carried out the orders, but primarily those in the government who authorised and endorsed these orders - must be held accountable. Accountability is not an act of political vengeance; it is an essential requirement of the rule of law. Public office carries with it public responsibility. When the rights, safety and lives of citizens, particularly students, are compromised, accountability cannot stop at the lowest level.
The resignation of the Union Education Minister marks an important political development. However, one resignation alone cannot resolve the deeper crisis that has eroded the confidence of students and parents across the country. The real challenge lies in restoring faith in the integrity of our educational system.
The students were not protesting merely because of one examination. They were expressing a deeper anxiety that years of hard work, sacrifice and hope can be rendered meaningless by recurring paper leaks and failures in the examination system. Their demand was not unreasonable. They sought transparency, accountability and meaningful reform to ensure that merit, and not manipulation, determines success.
Parliament has since strengthened the legal framework relating to examination malpractices by increasing the penalties for those involved in paper leaks and organised cheating. Strong punishment undoubtedly has its place. Those who destroy the dreams of millions of students deserve to face severe consequences. Yet punishment after the event is only one part of the solution.
The more fundamental question remains unanswered: What effective preventive mechanisms are being put in place to ensure that paper leaks do not occur in the first place? Unless examination systems are made more secure through stronger technological safeguards, better oversight, greater institutional accountability and robust audit mechanisms, harsher punishments alone may not be sufficient. Prevention must become the cornerstone of reform.
Equally important is the restoration of trust between citizens and the government. There have been reports that assurances were given to protesting students that no adverse action would be taken against them if they demonstrated peacefully. If those assurances were subsequently not honoured, the government owes the nation a clear explanation. Trust, once broken, is difficult to rebuild. Governments strengthen democracy when they keep their promises, especially to young citizens who are placing their faith in democratic institutions.
India has always drawn its greatest strength from its young people. They are not enemies of the State. They are not adversaries to be silenced. They are our sons and daughters, the future doctors, engineers, teachers, scientists, entrepreneurs and public servants upon whom the future of our Republic depends. When they raise legitimate concerns peacefully, they deserve to be heard with respect, not met with suspicion or force.
This moment calls not for greater political polarisation but for collective introspection. The government must demonstrate both humility and courage by ensuring an independent inquiry into the events at Jantar Mantar, holding accountable anyone found responsible for unjustified use of force, implementing meaningful reforms to eliminate examination irregularities, and engaging sincerely with the concerns of students and parents.
Finally, this is a moment that calls every person of goodwill to spend time in prayer.
Let us pray for the students who were injured, that they may recover fully in body, mind and spirit. Let us pray for their anxious parents and families who have endured immense anguish. Let us pray for those entrusted with maintaining law and order, that they may always act with wisdom, compassion and restraint. Let us pray for our legislators, administrators and judges, that they may be guided by truth, justice and the common good.
Above all, let us pray that our nation may always remain a place where peaceful voices are heard with dignity, where differences are resolved through dialogue rather than force, where truth triumphs over expediency, and where every child can pursue education with hope instead of fear.
Our children are not asking for privilege. They are asking for fairness. May ‘We the People’ never fail to listen.
Bishop Savio Fernandes
Auxiliary Bishop, Archdiocese of Bombay
The resignation of a senior minister following weeks of public protest is a reminder of a fundamental truth in any democracy: political power ultimately derives from the people, and no government can afford to forget that. Whatever one’s political affiliation, the events surrounding the recent protests should prompt serious reflection on the state of democratic accountability, the right to peaceful dissent, and the responsibility of governments to treat every citizen with dignity, equality and respect.
The protests, in which many young people, particularly members of Gen Z, played a prominent role, demonstrated the power of collective civic action. Their persistence, despite the difficulties and hardships they faced, as seen in the various videos and reporting from Jantar Mantar, deserves recognition. The support extended by ordinary citizens from different walks of life - through food, water, essential supplies, moral encouragement and prayers - also reflected an important aspect of democratic society, that is, people standing together when they believe that a matter of public concern requires their attention.
At the heart of any democracy is the right to disagree with those in power. Governments are elected to serve the people, not to regard criticism as an act of hostility. Peaceful protest, when conducted within the bounds of law, is not an attack on the nation. It is one of the ways citizens participate in public life and hold institutions accountable. That is why allegations of excessive force against peaceful demonstrators must always be taken seriously and investigated impartially.
Reports of injuries, mistreatment, intimidation or insulting behaviour by authorities, when substantiated, should never be dismissed merely because the protesters disagree with the government. The State has a greater responsibility precisely because it possesses greater power. The use of force must always be necessary, proportionate and lawful. And those responsible for unlawful conduct must be held accountable regardless of their position and how powerful they are.
The resignation Mr. Dharmendra Pradhan, the Education Minister, in the wake of sustained public pressure, if accepted by the Prime Minister, would underline the principle that elected representatives remain accountable to the people. At the same time, a resignation should not be viewed as the end of the democratic process. What matters ultimately is whether the underlying concerns raised by citizens are examined fairly and whether meaningful corrective action follows.
There are also wider concerns that deserve open and reasoned debate. Critics have questioned whether changes to educational syllabi and historical narratives adequately reflect India's extraordinary diversity and complex past, or whether they risk promoting a particular ideological interpretation of history. These concerns should be addressed through transparent academic processes involving historians, educators and independent experts. Education must never become a tool for political indoctrination. Children should be taught to understand history in all its complexity, including its achievements, failures, conflicts and contributions from communities of every faith and background.
Similarly, laws and policies governing religious freedom, foreign funding and civil society organisations must be enforced fairly, consistently and transparently, without discrimination or political bias. Regardless of whether one supports or opposes a particular law, the constitutional guarantees of equality before the law, freedom of conscience and the right to peaceful civic participation must remain inviolable. Where concerns arise about selective, arbitrary or partisan enforcement, they must be addressed through independent scrutiny, credible evidence and due process—not dismissed or justified through political rhetoric. The rule of law can command public trust only when it is applied equally to everyone, without favour or prejudice.
The same standard must apply to constitutional and independent institutions. Their credibility depends not only on their actual independence but also on public confidence in that independence. If citizens believe that institutions are acting selectively or politically, trust in democracy itself begins to weaken. The remedy for this is to strengthen transparency, accountability and institutional safeguards, and not endanger it.
The media, too, has an indispensable role to play. A free press is expected to question those in power, investigate wrongdoing and provide citizens with reliable information. When sections of the media are perceived as overly close to governments or political parties, public confidence suffers. Equally, criticism of the media should not become an excuse to suppress legitimate journalism. The answer to biased reporting is stronger independent journalism, greater media diversity and an informed public capable of examining competing viewpoints.
Perhaps the most troubling aspect of any political climate is the tendency to label citizens who disagree with the government as anti-nationals and enemies of the nation. Describing peaceful protesters or critics as foreign agents, or casually associating them with another country, is a dangerous practice unless supported by credible evidence and established through lawful processes. Patriotism cannot be measured by political loyalty. A citizen does not cease to love the country merely because he or she criticises the government - in fact, it is often love for the country that inspires citizens to speak out against injustice, defend democratic values and demand that those in power uphold the Constitution and serve the people with honesty, dignity and accountability.
India's strength has always rested on its diversity. Religion, caste, language and culture may differ, but constitutional citizenship is shared equally by all. No government should make any citizen feel like a second-class member of the nation. The dignity of a person cannot depend upon his or her religion, caste, political belief or social background.
The message from the recent mobilisation at Jantar Mantar should therefore be understood not as a victory for one political group over another, but as a reminder to every government: people's power is real. When citizens unite peacefully around a cause they believe to be just, their voices cannot simply be silenced by authority.
The lesson for those in power is clear. Listen before anger turns into alienation. Engage before disagreement becomes confrontation. Govern through constitutional principles rather than fear or intimidation. Treat criticism as part of democracy, not as a threat to it.
The people of India do not ask for special treatment. They ask for fairness. They ask for equality. They ask to be heard. Above all, they ask to be treated with dignity and respect.
A government that understands this will not fear the people. It will earn their trust.
Bishop Savio Fernandes
Auxiliary Bishop of the Archdiocese of Bombay
Rudyard Kipling is often credited with saying, “God could not be everywhere, therefore He made mothers.” Every year, Mother’s Day is celebrated with flowers, greeting cards, and family lunches, but motherhood is too sacred and far-reaching to be confined to a single Sunday in May. Mothers – and all who embody maternal love – deserve to be honoured every day.
The moment I first held my daughter Malika in my arms, my world changed completely. Motherhood brought sleepless nights, endless worry, exhaustion, and sacrifice. I worried about every cry, every fever, every missed meal. Yet, amid the chaos came a profound joy I had never known before. Life’s priorities shifted. Quiet moments, laughter at home, and the comfort of family suddenly mattered more than social outings or career milestones.
Today, I celebrate the many faces of motherhood.
First, I celebrate my own mother, Esme Mathias.
After my children were born and I returned to work, my mother stepped in with remarkable love and generosity. She cared for my children as though they were her own. She created stability in our home during the busiest years of my life.
My mother taught us far more than academics; she filled our lives with prayer, music, and values. She read Bible stories to us and taught us compassion by encouraging visits to orphanages and old-age homes during Christmas. Through her example, we learned patience, generosity, and faith.
I also celebrate my husband Sanjay’s mother, Gemma D’Cunha.
As the wife of Major General Ivan D’Cunha and the mother of sons who served in the Armed Forces, she understood sacrifice deeply. Military life meant frequent relocations, long separations, uncertainty, and constant adjustment. Yet, she balanced these challenges while pursuing her own career as a teacher and writer. Mothers in defence families quietly carry enormous emotional burdens while remaining the emotional anchors of their homes.
I celebrate teachers who become second mothers to their students.
For many years, Blossom Mendonca has guided my children not only in music, but in life itself. Great teachers do more than educate; they nurture confidence, discipline, and character. Like mothers, they encourage, correct, and inspire. In Catholic education especially, teachers often become spiritual and emotional guides who help shape the hearts of young people.
I celebrate doctors whose compassion reflects maternal care.
Some doctors possess a tenderness that goes beyond clinical duty. Dr Kiran Coelho, a respected gynaecologist, and Dr Armida Fernandez, pioneer of Indian neonatology and founder of Asia’s first human milk bank, dedicated their lives to mothers and children. Their profession demanded sacrifices – interrupted family time, sleepless nights, and emergency calls – all in the service of preserving life. Such women embody Christ-like compassion through their care for the vulnerable.
I celebrate friends who mother us through difficult seasons.
Some friendships carry the warmth, protection, and understanding of family. These friends become our confidantes and strongest supporters during life’s trials. Many women quietly nurture others emotionally, without ever receiving recognition for it.
I celebrate daughters who become caregivers to their own mothers.
As parents age, daughters often step into the roles of protector and nurturer. They accompany mothers to appointments, offer emotional support, and gently care for them with tenderness and patience. Watching my daughter Malika lovingly caring for my mother reminds me that love often comes full circle.
I celebrate helpers and nannies.
Many caregivers spend more hours with children than working parents do. They comfort, feed, teach, and protect them, while often sacrificing time with their own families. Their contribution is rarely acknowledged enough, yet their care profoundly shapes young lives.
I celebrate religious sisters who embrace spiritual motherhood.
Sister Laurencia, Principal of Holy Name High School, dedicates her weekends to preparing children for the Sacraments of First Holy Communion and Confirmation. Religious sisters mother not through biology, but through prayer, mentorship, sacrifice, and service.
I also celebrate fathers who are called to play both parental roles.
In many homes today, fathers step into caregiving responsibilities traditionally associated with mothers. My husband Sanjay, despite his demanding travel schedule, always embraced these moments with love and commitment. Many fathers today quietly balance work and caregiving with remarkable tenderness.
I celebrate bosses, secretaries and colleagues at work.
With increased hours of work, bosses, secretaries and colleagues often play the role of mother. My office assistant, Gracie, was like a mum. During my pregnancy, she ensured I ate healthy food, and when I finally went into labour (whilst in office), she was with me. Similarly, Jennifer Chowler was my assistant during my stint in Kerala. She was there during tough times and laughed with me during stressful times.
Finally, I celebrate our Blessed Mother Mary.
Mary remains the perfect model of motherhood – humble, faithful, courageous, and compassionate. She nurtured Jesus with love, stood beside Him in suffering, and continues to guide believers as a spiritual mother. Her life reminds us that true motherhood is rooted in sacrifice, faith, and unconditional love.
Motherhood is a sacred calling to nurture, protect, teach, heal, and love. It reflects the very heart of Christ’s love in the world. Even though Mother’s Day has gone by, let us honour every woman – and every person – who mothers with grace, sacrifice, and faith.
Training the Voice of Veronica
Behind every young girl who steps forward as Veronica on Palm Sunday, there is often a quiet mentor guiding her through the process. For Connie Rose, a trainer, preparing a girl to sing the Veronica hymn is both a musical and spiritual journey.
"The song itself is very touching," Connie explains. "It carries sorrow, but it is also very beautiful."
Preparing for that moment takes time. The girl must memorise the entire hymn because she stands holding a scroll, facing the congregation, rather than reading the words. Because of this, confidence and composure become just as important as a good singing voice. The girls chosen are usually members of the parish choir, already familiar with singing in church. Even so, nervousness can easily creep in when the moment arrives.
"Sometimes they do feel nervous when they see the crowd," the trainer admits. "So the secret is prayer. You have to pray and ask God to help you sing it beautifully."
Both versions of the hymn carry their own charm. The English hymn was composed by Fr Aniceto Nazareth, while the Konkani version has an older, almost mysterious origin. "Nobody really knows who composed the Konkani one," Connie says with a smile. "It has come down through the ages."
Regardless of the language, the emotional power of the hymn lies in its pace and expression. "The slower you sing it, the more feeling you can put into it," Connie explains. "When it is sung well, it really touches people."
For the trainer, the most emotional moment arrives when the girl finally stands before the congregation and begins to sing.
"At that time, I just hope and pray that she doesn't feel nervous and that she sings it well," Connie says. "And when she does, I feel very happy. It's a proud moment."
Tanisha's Turn as Veronica
For Tanisha, becoming Veronica was both exciting and nerve-wracking. Growing up in the parish, she had watched other girls sing the Veronica hymn every Palm Sunday. When she was finally asked to take on the role, she felt both thrilled and a little afraid.
One of the biggest challenges was singing the hymn in Marathi, a language she had to work hard to pronounce correctly. The opening note of the song was also quite high, making the introduction especially difficult at first.
But the greatest test came on Palm Sunday itself. Standing before a packed church, Tanisha felt nervous and worried she might forget the words. Yet everything changed in a brief moment during the re-enactment.
"Before the song, I wiped the face of Jesus," she says. "For a second, I looked Jesus in the eyes, and suddenly I felt confident."
When the hymn ended, relief washed over her as she saw smiling faces in the congregation, and her parents and the teacher who had trained her.
Looking back, Tanisha says the experience gave her confidence. "It's a prestigious thing in the community," she says. "It was exciting to be part of it."
Delaine's Meaningful Role
For Delaine, being chosen to play Veronica came soon after the COVID period, when parish celebrations were slowly returning to normal. When she first received the invitation, her reaction was a mixture of joy and nervousness.
"I felt happy and honoured to be given the role," she says. "But at the same time, I was a little anxious about performing in front of everyone."
Standing before the parish, dressed as Veronica, brought a deep sense of responsibility. In that moment, she felt closely connected to the character she was portraying.
"The moment where Veronica shows the imprint of the wounded face of Jesus felt very powerful," she recalls. "It was a very meaningful experience."
Among the verses of the hymn, one line moved her the most. The words from the third verse, "ित मुख पािहले रतानी भरलेले …", (Krist mukh paahile raktani bharlele) left a deep impression on her, as they reflect the suffering seen on the face of Christ.
When the hymn finally ended, the tension of the moment melted away.
"The first thing I felt was relief," Delaine says with a smile. "I remember thinking to myself, 'I did it!'"
Naomi's Moment of Courage
Like many girls who take on the role of Veronica, Naomi remembers feeling nervous before stepping forward to sing. "I told myself that I was singing as Veronica and sharing an important moment from the Way of the Cross," she says. "That helped me feel calmer."
In the few seconds before the hymn began, Naomi took a deep breath and said a small prayer. She also reflected on Veronica's courage, how she stepped forward to wipe the face of Jesus, despite the crowd around her.
"That thought gave me the confidence to start singing," she recalls.
To manage her nerves, Naomi found an unusual way to stay focused. Instead of looking at the congregation, she fixed her gaze on something else entirely.
"There was a crow sitting on the Christ the King statue," she says with a smile. "I ended up looking at it the whole time while singing. It actually helped me stay calm."
Looking back, Naomi believes the key to overcoming fear lies in remembering the deeper meaning of the moment.
"Don't focus on the crowd," she advises. "Focus on the meaning of the song and why you are singing it. When you sing from your heart and offer it to God, it becomes less about performing, and more about sharing something meaningful."
Trina Remedios is a member of the Editorial Board of The Examiner.