Fireworks Tragedy

For generations, ever since fireworks first reached our shores through ancient trade routes, they have become part of the celebratory language of our land. In Kerala especially, the sound of crackers and the brilliance of light have long accompanied festivals—whether in temples, churches, community feasts, or public celebrations. The scale may differ according to the size and resources of each institution, but the spirit of festivity remains the same.

Among all such celebrations, Thrissur Pooram stands as one of the world’s most renowned spectacles of ceremonial pyrotechnics, admired for its grandeur, precision, and emotional power. It is not merely fireworks, but tradition, craftsmanship, anticipation, and collective memory.

Yet behind every display are workers who manufacture, transport, store, and prepare these materials under demanding and often hazardous conditions. In our hot summer months—when many festivals are held—high temperatures, friction, storage lapses, and handling risks can turn danger into disaster within moments.

Yesterday, tragedy struck again in Thrissur as preparations were underway for the Pooram celebrations. Fourteen workers lost their lives, and many others remain in serious condition in hospitals. Families who expected their loved ones to return home now face unbearable grief.

Pyrotechnics are practiced across the world, and many countries have developed strict safety systems in manufacturing, storage, training, and emergency response. We too must continue moving toward the highest standards of safety, so that tradition can be preserved without costing human lives.

Today, our thoughts and prayers are with the departed, the injured, and their families. May those who died rest in peace. May the wounded recover swiftly. And may this sorrow awaken renewed commitment to protecting every worker whose unseen labour creates moments of public joy.

Dharma, Karma and the cross

The Dharma, Karma and The Cross

Between birth and death stretches the quiet field of a human life.

What came before our birth remains hidden from us.

What lies beyond death is equally veiled.

But between these two mysteries we are given a journey.

Many traditions have tried to understand this journey.

Some speak of dharma, the duty and order into which we are born.

Some speak of karma, the consequences of what we do within that order.

Together they form the path each person must walk.

In another tradition, Jesus Christ spoke of the Cross.

“Pick up your cross and follow me.”

Perhaps these ideas are not so different.

The cross may simply be the life already placed upon our shoulders.

We did not choose our parents.

We did not choose the family or circumstances into which we were born.

We inherit an emotional world, a culture, a language, expectations and responsibilities.

From there the road continues:

education, work, relationships, marriage, children, duties, disappointments, hopes.

This is the shape of our cross.

Yet human beings often try to exchange the cross given to them for another of their own making.

We choose careers that are not truly ours.

We form relationships for reasons that do not belong to our deepest self.

We run away from responsibilities that seem too heavy.

For a time it feels like freedom.

But often it is only a detour.

Life has a patient wisdom.

Sooner or later it brings us back to the unfinished task we tried to escape.

And then we begin to understand something simple but profound.

The real question is not which cross we carry, but how we carry it.

Every tradition teaches this in its own language.

The path may be called dharma.

The consequences may be called karma.

Or the burden may be called the cross.

But the truth beneath them is the same.

We must live the life that has been entrusted to us.

For my own heart, the path I have chosen is the way of the Cross of Jesus Christ.

Yet the deeper lesson remains universal.

We did not choose our cross.

But we can choose the spirit with which we carry it.

In that spirit lies dignity.

In that spirit lies faithfulness.

And in that spirit lies the quiet possibility that even the heaviest burdens of life may become a path toward meaning and peace.

Easter

An Easter Message