Quotes of the Day

It's only 7.30 a.m., but the front door of house number 54A is already open. Outside, a short, bald man dressed in a neat, black-checked shirt and faded gray trousers stands beneath the nondescript building's huge windows, bows his head and puts it against the wall in a sign of obeisance. Arun Mukherjee, an accounts clerk in his late 40s, has been stopping here at Mother House, Mother Teresa's home in Kolkata, on his way to work every morning for decades. For him, the building is no less than a temple. "I feel very calm when I stop here," he says a tad shyly.

Mukherjee is not alone. Inside the house, the remains of the Mother, as she is popularly referred to in the city, are buried in the courtyard. That the revered Catholic nun transcended all religion is apparent when one enters her tomb, where people are praying with folded hands, with their palms in front of their faces and with Rosary beads. For many, paying this respect to the Mother, who spent nearly 70 years here, is part of a daily homage to a woman who touched every Kolkatan's life. Up a flight of stairs is the Mother's room, sparsely furnished with a narrow iron bed, a long table and bench and a desk where she worked. Mohammad Hossain, a trader, stands outside the room with eyes closed and head bowed in prayer. "I always feel her presence here, which fills me with hope," he says.

The city was thus thrown into shock this week when it learned that Albania, the country of Mother Teresa's parents, had demanded that her remains be returned before her birth centenary in August 2010. One of the nuns at Mother House was appalled. She couldn't understand why the country would want the Mother's remains back when it had so little connection to her. In anticipation that Macedonia — where Mother Teresa was born and lived until she was 18 — might also join in the demand, the West Bengal–based State Forum of Christians, with more than 10 million members, has called for an all-religion mass rally to be held on Oct. 23. Herod Mullick, the leader of the forum, said the group will also be sending a memorandum to the Pope to forestall any such "unjustified, irrational and impractical" demands. Political leaders in the state dismissed the controversy as a nonissue, as the Mother was an Indian citizen.

In April 1996, Mother Teresa fell and broke her collarbone, and that August, she suffered from malaria and failure of the left heart ventricle. She had heart surgery but never fully recovered; she died on Sept. 5, 1997. In the 12 years since, the life of the Catholic humanitarian has become intertwined with the identity of this city in eastern India. "She is part of the chromosome of Kolkata," says retired police officer Rekha Roy. "You cannot imagine Kolkata without Mother Teresa." Rajib Chakraborty, a lecturer in a Kolkata college, says, "She based her work on an ideology and institutionalized it. She has influenced many people all over the world to spare a thought for the poor and the afflicted." The prized possession of prominent Bengali author Nabarun Bhattacharya is the Mother's blessings, which reached him almost, he says, by a miracle itself. "I found an original blessing signed by Mother Teresa in an old book that I had bought," Bhattacharya says, holding a yellowish postcard with Mother Teresa's blessings in her writing. "I was going through some turbulence in my personal life during that time, and the find gave me immense hope and strength. For me, it is a sacred symbol."

At the Mother House, Sabrina David, a 39-year-old Anglo-Indian woman, had stopped by for morning prayers with her 9-year-old daughter. "I come here everyday," she says. She recalls an incident many years back when Mother Teresa was sitting on the doorstep of the house, and David approached her for some help, as she had no warm clothes to cover her 2-year-old son. "She took off the blanket that was around her and put it around my son. I get goose pimples just talking about her," she says.

Her daughter chimes in. "It's not so nice here anymore." Sabrina chides her, looking uncomfortable. "Things have changed since the Mother died," she admits. When the Mother was alive, wearing shoes inside the sacred spot was strictly prohibited. That rule has changed, however; one of the nuns explains that local people have followed visitors inside to steal their shoes. Theresa Bhajo, a woman who used to work at the house when Mother Teresa was alive, says sadly, "No one would even dream of stealing anything from the house. The sense of respect and awe is not there anymore."

Still, losing the earthly reminder of the transcendent spirit of charity and goodwill that Mother Teresa stood for is not something that many will stand for. "Everything the mother stood for — her genesis from a common nun to an eminence of world stature — happened in and around Kolkata," Bhattacharya says. "This creates a very special bond which is beyond technical claims. Nobody cares where Norman Bethune was born. He lived and died for China." It's time perhaps to rewind to how the Mother herself felt about it: "By blood, I am Albanian. By citizenship, an Indian," she once said. "By faith, I am a Catholic nun. As to my calling, I belong to the world."

• Nilanjana Bhowmick
• Kolkata, where Mother Teresa lived and worked for nearly seven decades, was shocked this week when Albania laid claim to the saint's remains