I walked through the cobblestone path, towards the chapel, climbed the steps of moss ridden granite steps to reach front yard. It was 4:30 in the evening, chapel was opened, a Royal enfield motorcycle was parked in the courtyard. I entered into that holy place, fragrant spew of frankincense overwhelmed me. I walked through the nave between the pews and saw the priest in the pulpit. He came down and wished me I shook his hand and introduced myself. Father Damien Lopez was a fair, tall man with broad shoulders and hawk like nose, he had grown a long hair and finely trimmed full goatee on his face. He called his curate and said something, so he went outside. The vicar led me to the vestry room, he asked me to sit on a cane wicker and opened a wooden box. He took a bottle of wine. He poured wi
