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Catalonia

“Would you like to go inside the church?”

I turned my head at the heavily accented voice. It belonged to a man, in his 70s, fit in body and with a weathered face, and curious eyes. I wasn’t sure what he meant, the church wasn’t open for visitors until 9am. It was a little after 8am. I noticed his umbrella – it wasn’t raining – not quite, but it was drizzling, it had been for some time, long enough to get my hair wet as I stood in front of the 15th century Basílica de Santa Maria del Pi meaning “Basilica of Saint Mary of the Pine” located in the Gothic quarter in Barcelona, which is the capital of the autonomous region of Catalonia in Spain. My eyes were transfixed at its Gothic façade with its life sized sculptures of the 12 apostles. I had been trying to work out who was who, I had recognized Peter with his keys, John because of his youthful looks, and Judas with his eyes averted and & a dagger hidden in his hand. I was consulting Google on my phone to figure out the rest – why was I doing this? I don’t know, I like to do these things.

I also like to visit an old European city in the early morning hours, before the hum-drum of life, the noise of the vehicles, and the throngs of people pour in. It is a ritual that I am compelled to undertake at least one or two mornings during my travel. With no semblance of modern life – either visual or aural, and surrounded entirely with historic architecture – Classical, Gothic, Renaissance, Neo-Gothic, Baroque, it is possible to imagine myself as a time-traveler – albeit from a safe distance; Christianity and especially Catholicism was not known to be kind to Pagans in the 15th century! But given that I wasn’t at any risk of being burnt at the stake as a heretic that morning, I had left Mark catching up on sleep – something he likes to do on his vacation – and slipped out into the Gothic Quarter of Barcelona. After an hour of wandering, I had found myself in front of the Basilica caught by its stunning façade.

“Would you like to go inside the church?”, he had asked.

“Yes”, I found myself answering without the slightest idea of how he was going to manifest his proposition, the large iron gates on the church were firmly shut.

“Follow me” he said. I did as I was told. He went up to the metal barricade and moved it, then up the stone steps, opened the door and stepped in to the basilica. I was confronted by the beauty of a Gothic church, its dark interior with arches and pillars leading the eyes straight towards the cross at the end of the nave and up towards heaven. There were a handful of people in the basilica already – they likely worked there. The church wasn’t open to the public yet.

“Are you here to attend the mass or to see the basilica?” he asked. “To see the basilica”, I answered truthfully, I wasn’t standing outside in hopes of attending a mass, I wasn’t even standing outside in hopes of entering the church, I was just standing outside because – well I had been hypnotized – by the quest for perfection in the stone façade. In the modern world we seem to have connected religion with strife, superstition, dogma, colonialism – all things true – but we also seem to have forgotten how religion can be a call for spirituality, for faith, for humility, charity, generosity, compassion.. it offers a connection with the divine and a way to fulfill our deepest longings for meaning and purpose. It is not possible to see the Sistine Chapel, the Last Supper, the Sagrada Familia, or the innumerable churches (and other houses of worship), paintings, frescoes and monasteries across the world without feeling some of this reverence. One doesn’t have to be a Catholic or a Christian to understand or feel this. In every heart the same reverence exists. All one has to do is to recognize when one is in the presence of the sacred and take off ones shoes. I certainly know when to take off mine.

“Ah then perhaps you should return when the church is open” he responded. I almost heard a tinge of disappointment in his voice. I turned to exit.

“We have a prayer before the church opens, we will be singing in Catalan. “Would you like to join?”
“Yes. But I am not a Christian.”
“We are all children of the same God. Come.”

He took me to a chapel on the right. Another magnificent Gothic chamber. There were 3 priests in the front and a handful of people in the pews. It appeared to me to be a private prayer for the clergy and staff of the basilica.

“My name is Antonio. What is your name?”
“Swati”.
“That is a beautiful name. Where are you from?”
“New York.”
“Ah wonderful”.

He handed me a small prayer book. And opened the page to MARTES – meaning TUESDAY in Spanish.

“We will be singing from this. You just follow what I do, ok?”
Ok.
The priests spoke a few words but mostly they sang – alongside the attendees, their voices rising up to the tall pillars of the Gothic chamber. I became acutely aware that I was participating in a ritual that had been ongoing for hundreds of years. It was a remarkable experience.

The prayer finished. I turned to Antonio “That was beautiful” I said.
“Yes. Yes. It is beautiful. That is why I wanted you to attend . “

He led me out of the prayer room. “I like New York, I would love to go. But now with your new president Mr. Trump, oh no no no. I will not be going for at least a few years”. He faked a shiver and laughed.

I stepped out of the basilica, and saw people in the square rushing for work, a loud scooter passed in the distance, I was back in the 21st century. I looked up at the apostles and being closer to the sculpture recognized St. Joseph; the carpenter holding a right angle. And right above me was the most famous carpenter of all, Jesus – looking down at me – almost smiling. I recalled Antonio’s last words as I thanked him for inviting me in.

“It was my pleasure, Swati from New York. This is my gift to you – from Catalonia.”

I smiled back.

Swati Srivastava is an immigrant and a multi award-winning writer, director, and voiceover artist. A filmmaker & storyteller, Swati turns ideas into experience. She is also the Director of Visual Media for a national non-profit and an environmentalist. She can be reached via Linkedin and swati@TiredAndBeatup.com

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Categories

Recent Posts

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A Moment's Notice
Mismatched
Mismatched
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Why Choose Hope
DSC06568
Songs of my Sister
Immigrant, Outsider, Family Trauma
Carried
One Nation
One Nation, One Standard
abstract watercolor india flag background for independence day
India Calling
Screenshot
From Doubt to Faith - Finding Common Ground in the American Story
American Flag Reflection in Puddle A Patriotism Image
Immigration - Drip, Not a Flood
lights7-edited
A Small Flame of Love
cake-916253_1920
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Commitment to Peace
image - 2025-07-23T183624
Stories for “A New World”
image - 2025-07-23T183709
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statue-of-liberty-4127231_1920
April Fool’s Day
image (34)
The Road Ahead”- The Future Story
image (35)
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spain-2507709_1920
Catalonia
image (36)
A Love Letter from Juliet
image (37)
The Gospel of Light
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Walk The Walk – Honoring Dr. King through Faith and Action
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Storytime
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Starry, Starry Night
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Diwali : A Hero’s Journey for the Ages
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My American Journey
the-ninth-planet
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image (44)
Story of Pride – Part III
image (45)
Story of Pride – Part II
image (46)
Story of Pride – Part I
image (48)
Harmonizing
image (49)
The Jazz Club
image (50)
Faith, Hope and Love
image (51)
Mar 19th in Venice
image (52)
A ball, A cop and John Lennon’s Imagine
image (53)
To My Santa
image (54)
Ask and you shall find!
image (56)
This Little Light of Mine
Kite-Etsy
The Invisible String
image (55)
“Earl Gray Moment”
image (57)
Home
image (58)
When the time is right
image (60)
Human No. 1
image (61)
Re-thinking Ginger Rogers
image (62)
J.K. Rowling f***ing ruined my life
image (59)
Go Back To Your Country (on the 20th anniversary of 9/11)
image (65)
Say Her Name: Manisha Valmiki
image (66)
1776 Words From an American Immigrant
image (63)
World War III is here, and we are asleep at the wheel
image (67)
The Anti-Science President
image (64)
A Little Girl’s Odyssey
image (68)
Aren’t You Breaking the Oath of Allegiance?
image (69)
I can’t turn the page
A close-up of a weathered, ancient statue of a serene face, poss
I sit down to write
glacier-5760277_1920
Glacier
Do beegha Zameen
The Story of Shambhu
Indian boy works with other children in field. Children with serious gazes highlight severity child labor, rural areas. Agriculture, poverty, survival, childhood, family, harvest
There is no disparity..!
Adult Indian man.  Portrait of pensive poor Indian man. Black and white photo.  Soft focus
This is THE END
Two palms in mud and calluses are pointing up, hands of refugee and homeless
अति या इति ?
Creative hand lettering typography quote 'Your voice matters' go
We The Voice
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