St. Francis CSI church is one of the few rock cut churches in the world, surrounded by lush green trees, Arabian sea and queen Elizabeth street marking the history of colonial rule in india. The mist almost covered the church. The path to the church was lined with mausoleums and shielded with an 18th century iron chain barricade. The rust and size of the chain made it look like a serpent from the abyss whirling to snake up anyone who dared to enter the church. Father hurried himself to the church entrance. The sound of cold wind in dry leaves made him feel, somebody is silently following his foot steps. He passed the mysterious gate way and confronted the great door of history, a 10 foot big wooden door marvelled out of portuguese architecture. The air inside the church was dead solitude. He could literally see anything inside than darkness. He took a step closer to the door and stared sharply into the darkness. suddenly it thundered like molten lava was poured from the sky. Under the silver dark sky illuminating the church, he read those ancient engravings in the portugese - tomb of vasco da gama , born 1460 - death (not mentioned). Above the defeaning voice of thunder and rain, father Kennedy could hear the voice of blood flowing in his veins.