Sulochana’s mom and my mom were both called ‘Servants of God’

Sulochana’s mother died of AIDS about five years back when Sulochana was just 15. At this tender age, Sulochana took the heavy responsibility of feeding, educating and caring for her brother and two sisters. She makes ends meet by stitches woman's clothes.

Sulochana and her three siblings were born of the same mother but different fathers. None of them know who their fathers are, therefore no one to care for them. Sulochana’s mother was a ‘Devadasi’…‘a servant of god.’ (‘Devadasi’ means ‘a female servant of god’)

As Sulochana was narrating her story, for some strange reason at that moment, still staring into Sulochana’s eyes, I thought about my mother for a second. My mother was a cross-cultural missionary for over 35 years. She had left the comfort of her home and the promise of a teacher’s job, to work as a missionary in some of the most remote and difficult terrains in India. ‘A servant of God’ my mother too was called.
Sulochana’s mother and my mother were both called ‘Servants of God.’ Yet, one was highly respected for being God’s servant and the other was exploited and abused. How paradoxically unjust.

I have always believed and very strongly experienced that every single good thing that has happened in my life is a trickled down blessings because my parents were doing “God’s Work.” But here in a small house in Bellary, were four children, who were plundered of their childhood, their innocence, their joy and their ability to dream because their mother was dedicated to the temple to be “a servant of god” and was abused and raped…all in the name of god.

Despite all odds in her life, Sulochana stands tall as a brave, confident and strong woman. wow! What a great woman she would grow up to be. A great inspiration!

But as we left her house, I had many questions running through my head. What did Sulochana or any of her siblings do, that they were born to a ‘servant of god’ who was abused for being one? Or rather, what did I do to be born to ‘a servant of God’ who was highly respected for being one? Why? Was it only because our mothers served two different gods? If there is an answer, I’m sure I will feel guilty or angry for it.

Should I feel sorry for Sulochana? I definitely can’t feel blessed for not being born to Sulochana’s mother. That would be my greatest sin if I did. Who is to blame? God, you, me…I don’t know.

But every time I say a prayer for Sulochana or think of her, i wonder what her answer would have been to one question that I did not ask her that still lingers in my head - “Sulochana, Do you believe in God?”