Conversion. (Part 2)

This is a continuation from the the previous part 1 post. That year when my dad converted, my 2nd brother was born. He was immediately baptized at birth like many/most catholic families. 3 years later, I had another brother and he too was baptized at birth. I was 11. I felt nothing at that time. Things just went along for the next few years. At the age of 17, I made a few catholic friends. I guess this was the starting point for me. My first exposure to people my age who were practicing the faith. When I was 18, I went for a funeral mass at IC church for a former head master of my high school. The students who went, most of us were non-catholics. But there were a few of my friends who were catholics. This was the first time I went to church with anyone besides my family. My friends knew I attended church so when it came to holy communion, they went, turned back and asked why I wasn't going. (They didn't know I wasn't baptized) I just smiled, shook my head and waved them forward. Over the years, when people asked me what my religion was I answered, "I'm a catholic" but it never felt exactly right saying that. I said that because I went to church on certain occasions and my parents, grandparents and 2 of my brothers were catholics. 

2010. This was perhaps the best year in my life that I can remember. Anyway, I made more new friends. Friends from other schools for the first time. All my high school years, my circle of friends were confined to people in my own high school. I didn't attend group tuition like most high school kids did and wasn't a part of church. I had a tiny circle of friends but this was a whole new, fresh experience for me in college. Of course in my new group of friends, I had more catholic friends. Sometimes during break, I'd hear them talking about their church friends, activities, and even discussing certain religious topics, I felt envious of them. One conversation I remember clearly was, 

"Hey B, I don't see you in church so often anymore what happened to you? Noti boy. "

"I go laaaaaa. On Sunday evenings thats why you don't see me."

"Righttt.. You become so inactive I bet you don't even know what the 7 sacraments are also."

"I know okay? Its... "

He could only name 5 out of the 7. I was intrigued. Something just lit in me after hearing that short simple conversation. I wondered what sacraments were. What they meant. What else there was that I didn't know about without even bothering to try to find out about the Christ. And a realization that there may be something deeper than sitting in church, listening to bible readings, the priest's sermon, the breaking of bread and the cup with wine. 

I started going to church more often alone on saturday evenings. Why not sunday? Because I have trouble getting up early in the morning and I wanted to sleep in on sundays. Ridiculous reason, yes I know but I told myself start somewhere, better than nothing. I went as frequently as I could because no one else went to church and I couldn't drive so I had to take buses to and from church. I didn't feel as much resistance with myself as I use to. When my grandparents visited, they'd go for mass on the weekends, and they'd ask me if I wanted to go. The answer was always "No, thank you. I have homework to do". Thinking back, it was a stupid answer. In the beginning I went thinking it was all interesting. Then the sermons or homilies by the priest started making sense to me. The mass was finally starting to come alive in me. I saw things, heard things which were always there but I never noticed all the times I was there. I'd finally started climbing the first set of stairs towards something great.