As my words get wings...

The man who makes my heart swell with love!

2010-06-15T23:40:00.000-07:00

My father is no mahatma.

He is no millionaire.

He is no perfect man, either.

But he makes my heart swell with love!

This is no daddy’s girl talk. I’ve sat down and given enough thought to why he makes me feel so weighed down with love.

He stands tall as a tower of integrity. Against all odds, he stands strong as a rock for the cause of justice. If there’s anything or anybody he fears, it is God. He’s the one angry young man I adore to this day!

Here’s a man who can talk his way into anything. Sadly, none of his three children inherited that quality from him. And that makes me think, it is a gift that God puts into some special people! Over the years, he has let God tame his gift of the gab. I believe, that’s when the gifting makes sense. It becomes priceless! God makes even his silence speak- an austere dignified vacuum speaks volumes, which a million words he could have mouthed couldn’t have!

He is a father who chose to be a friend to his children. He risked his right to “reverence from a distance” for a reverence that comes only out of love and intimacy. I cannot remember a day when I was not given the freedom to say what I wanted to. He let us feel his heart beat and saved the trouble of long debates to make us understand his head. We are indeed children after our father’s heart! Believe me, I did not struggle to picture my Heavenly Father as my dearest friend, thanks to my earthly father, who effortlessly demonstrated that!

What really shakes me up about him is his confidence in God. I have not encountered anyone who so firmly believes in the forgiveness of God. He fearlessly admits his follies and runs back to God, in sheer confidence that he would be accepted back. I have held against him things God forgave him, only to see that God continues to be on his side. God is on the side of the righteous and the Holy Spirit gently nudges me to say, “Righteousness is not a function of your deeds but your faith!”

These few paragraphs of appreciation don't do justice to what my father deserves. But, I’d still go ahead with this much because, I’m sure he understands my heart has swollen with love for him so much by now that I can’t put another word down!

God bless you, precious father of mine!

Ps: In our lives, we take many things for granted. In mine, it’s my family I have taken for granted the most. I see the need to change...and I'm using this space as a tool to help me stop and thank those who make my life worthwhile... I’m grateful that God has allowed me a second chance that wasn’t too late.

I want to be like him!

2010-05-20T12:30:00.000-07:00

I am a student of my husband.

The more I study him, the more I am inspired by him.

The more I am inspired by him, the more I want to be like him!

I realise, this is perhaps the biggest compliment a spouse could get. I don’t know about you, but in my case, I have had many a personality I was drawn to initially, but have ended up having a sort of repulsion as time went by, because the more I went close to them, the more of their flaws I saw. Then I’d realise that the initial overwhelming impression of “Wow! What a man/woman!” was all an exaggeration of the little good that I could find in them in my limited interaction with them.

It doesn’t thrill me to conclude that the only perfect man to walk the earth was and will be Jesus, knowing that we are all called to be like Him. It is a tall order. I don’t expect myself or others to be totally like Jesus in everything. The checkpoint can be, “Am I a little more like Jesus today than I was yesterday?” But, somewhere deep inside, I hope to find someone who resembles the most to the Jesus I know. Not some kind stranger on the street whose tenderness of character might impress me for that moment- I don’t know how he is on a mundane day with his wife, children, parents, boss or subordinate, and whether what I saw in him was just a sudden spree of goodness that happens to him once in a blue moon! I yearn to find at least a far-flung reflection of Jesus in someone I know close enough to judge fair.

Then, I met my husband. After a year and a few months of living with him and knowing him closely, here’s what I found.

He is just another ordinary young man with no natural advantage over weaknesses. He is prone to get angry, just as anyone is. What makes him extra-ordinary is that he doesn’t sin in his anger. I consider his greatest strength to be his control over his tongue, the most difficult organ to tame! I haven’t caught him speak a word that hurts, let alone cursing or swearing, even when he’s fuming inside with anger.

He is as susceptible as anyone to pride. What makes him different is that he acknowledges his area of failing and takes precautions. I’m amazed at the many times he evades exclamations on his education by making a plain statement, “Yeah, I moved out of home for my engineering; I went to Rajastan”. I’ve noticed that many people wouldn’t want to know where in Rajastan, and thus he would have cleverly avoided undue attention on himself. But there have been a curious few who probed, “Ok, so where there?” The answer to that was a crisp, “Pilani” and looking away to avoid further questions. I can remember only one time, when the other person exclaimed “Oh, BITS, Pilani?” to which he gave a nonchalant nod as the answer. May be, this is one area he has overcome and that leaves several others, where he shows prompt willingness to examine himself. Being his wife, I am his worst critic. When faced with criticisms, this man listens, and more so, listens defenceless! Then he sinks into an exasperating self-examination mode. When I insist that he responds, he does it with a “Thank you for pointing that out. I’m wondering how to bring about a change, but I’d give my best”. I can guarantee that he gives his best to any change that would make him a better man.

Sometimes, I find it difficult to believe that he has faced the worst of rejections in life. If total surrender to God can buy one immunity from the world around, he is a perfect testimony. He cares a lot about people, but very little about what they think of him. I see a totally healed man with his identity safe in God; I am yet to meet a more secure person than him!

If there is anything quite impossible to do to him, it is to offend him- he has an ego that is too docile to be pricked to action! He breezes through difficult situations unaffected, when a ‘normal’ person like me would go beserk with offence!

He finds it possible, and at times easy, to forgive and forget. He can talk about a hurt in the past with an unfading smile on his face. Try talking to me about something that has deeply hurt me and I would break into tears in a matter of a few minutes! His ‘indifference’ to the pain of the past has not ceased to evoke a sense of awe in me. When I repeatedly ask him about how he manages to do it, he says this, as if it is the simplest thing in the world to understand, “It’s like this- when God heals you, you don’t even remember how it felt back then, and it is so easy to forgive!”

I’m not trying to prove that he’s made it. Undoubtedly, there are new challenges awaiting him pointing to newer areas in his character to be worked on, and it is my prayer that Christ-likeness will triumph in him, through it all.

What I have discovered though, is that people who resemble Jesus exist. And that gives me hope!

I wish to be like Jesus some day, and I guess it’s not a bad idea to start with a tangible role model. So, precious husband, let me start with you. I want to be like you!

Ps: Be kind enough not to quote anything from this post to my husband and embarrass him. Thank you!

2009 that was!

2010-03-16T23:51:00.000-07:00

A year and two months of no updation- I’m certainly not proud of the feat!

I’m not sure if there’s anyone out there to read this anymore. I have watched many a blog ebb away quietly and it was painful, especially if among those were my favourite ones. I want to sincerely apologise to my regular readers for not showing up with my ‘winged words’ for a long while. I’m not going to blame it all on the inevitable busyness of a homemaker cum working woman that I have become. Laziness got the better of me, and that remains the sole truth! Here’s an attempt to make up for the wait. No, I don’t promise an earth-shattering read ahead; I’ve always been cynical about radical come- backs.

So, where did I take you last? To the rugged cross that gives me hope for 2009? Well, the year has zoomed by and we are into a brand new one already, while I’m overwhelmed on realising that the hope has only grown bigger with time!

2009 was special- it was our first year of marriage!

We were warned by family, friends and well-wishers, at times, in vivid details, of the unpleasant side of marriage. “It’s not a bed of roses!” – Can you imagine, they still say it, irrespective of how wholly clichéd it sounds! “Just wait and see how long this ‘lovey doveyness’ would last”, remarked my well- meaning friend, on meeting us just two months after the wedding.

“To gel with another person with totally different tastes on practically everything in life is the biggest challenge”, “Men show their true colours only after wedding; you better be prepared for it”, “Don’t get carried away with all the sweetness in the beginning, life would only get harder after marriage”, “You know, sometimes you’d wish you were single”, “It’s not easy, marriage is suffering; take it in good spirit, though” “Smile all you can now, ‘cos there’s a lot of tears to handle after it”....this post would grow very long if I were to list all the precious pieces of unwarranted advice doled out to me, before and soon after wedding, in the hope that I would be better braced for this disaster called ‘marriage’!

And guess what, they were right- partially!

I did not find a bed of roses or a long-lasting ‘lovey doveyness’. To gel with a totally different person was a challenge and so was coping with his ‘true colours’. There were soiled clothes and dirty dishes, menus for breakfast, lunch and dinner (easier suggested than done), exasperating consultation with someone(husband) before you do anything, dealing with the new family...everything constituted the unpleasant side of marriage for me- just as they predicted!

Still, I was in for a surprise- a pleasant one!

They don’t tell you how many couples stay married; they only tell you how many are divorced. They don’t tell you how many remain in their jobs; they only tell you how many are fired. They don’t tell you how many kids are growing up in the fear of God; they only tell you how many go astray...they also don’t tell you how fantastic marriage is; they only tell you how hard it can get!

Believe me when I say it’s not all that bad as everyone makes it sound. My dear ladies, who are still waiting for the knight in shining armour, when somebody warns you “He’s got clay feet and the shine of his armour will get bleaker by the day ”, please retort, “ A clay footed knight in his worn out armour will do just fine for the equally flawed princess!” Bravehearts, by now you should know she’s got freckles behind that make-up, and that a freckle-free face will not make a trouble-free home; so don’t worry when someone snorts, “beauty is only skin-deep, beware!”

Marriage is a good thing and it will only do you good. Two is always better than one!

Sometimes, it takes marriage to know how stinking selfish you are and how repulsively proud! Sometimes, it takes to be married to learn to be more real than a smiley Christian on a Sunday morning. Sometimes, it takes two imperfect people to live together, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to be able to see others through God’s eyes! Now, tell me, isn’t the unpleasant side of marriage fleeting in comparison with its pleasant counterpart?

So, 2009 has been a fantastic year for me and it’s only gonna get better!

As 2008 fades into history...

2009-01-23T06:09:00.000-08:00

Economies crashing…Terrorism raging…Planet warming…

Marriages failing…Chaos reigning…Values crumbling…

Fists clenching…Hearts aching…Hope fainting…

We live in a dreadful age.
My Bible tells me these are the last days.

The blessings that preserved me in this tough world are many. When I look back at 2008, my heart chokes with gratefulness to the Almighty. The hands that hold the universe together, held my cells together and my wits too. Mountains moved…Oceans parted…Loaves multiplied…Storms calmed. And in situations when heaven chose not to rain miracles down, He taught me to be still and know that He is God!

In the face of this difficult time, what gives me hope is not Obama and his call to change...
My hope is in the rugged Cross and its promise...
My trust is in the One who has proven to be faithful and unchanging...
His grace was sufficient in the days gone by, and will be sufficient to carry me through in the future!

His is the Kingdom, the Power and the Glory forever.

Into a new morn...

2008-10-06T03:01:00.000-07:00

It’s been a long time, I know.

Probably, this is the first time I’m returning to the blog after a hiatus, feeling I didn’t miss anything :-)

I’m happy, and can’t you tell?

Betrothed and reserved for wedlock : I’m in that once-in-a lifetime phase of life, and enjoying it to the lees…every moment is new…fresh…full of life…

How I laughed the thought away when my newly-wedded friend winked at me and said, “Marriage is a fantastic thing; you should try it!” :-) That was only a few months ago. Then, I didn’t see the prospect coming my way, to sweep me off my feet, so freakingly soon! From the pinaform to the wedding gown! Even as our BIG day is 27 days away, I haven’t quite come to terms with the transition.

But, it’s all well…and it’s all for the good! :-)

These days, I surprise myself quite often. I forget to crib about the fact that I do not fit into those slim dresses at the stores…I don’t lose my cool with the rikwallah who takes me for a ride…I retain a graceful poise when I feel taken for granted by people who matter…in the warmth of a smile, I melt the harsh words hastening to get off my mouth…I feel another’s pain at a depth I haven’t felt before…I know God’s heart better than I have ever known it…

I care more…

I cry more…

I listen more…

I laugh more…

I love more…

Life’s gettin’ fuller by the day!

I never knew God could use one person and the season he brought, to turn me around to this extent. If you’ re thinking, it’s just that love’s in the air and I’m kinda dazed at the moment , well, I believe that it’s not just that. I believe that it’s real…and will last and not fade. I believe that the healing is as real as the hurt…and the rainbow is as real as the storm… :-)

I believe!

2008-07-21T04:10:00.000-07:00

You and I,
Hand in glove;
In love,
I believe!

You and I,
Refuting myth;
In truth,
I believe!

You and I,
Past all fears;
In blissful tears,
I believe!

You and I,
Laughter rife;
In life,
I believe!

You and I,
Melting sorrow;
In tomorrow,
I believe!

In the wake of a letdown...

2008-06-15T21:07:00.000-07:00

This has been an incredible season- of pruning and its sweet pain!

I’ve survived many a letdown and what amazes me is not that I did survive, but that my response to them has evolved over time- from a “You too Brutus?” loaded with bitter accusation, to “Why does it happen to me?” dripping with self pity, to the present “Why not forgive and move on?”

The beauty of the last response lies in the fact that I realize that I’m just a sinful human and my self- righteousness is as good as filthy rags and I’m only banging my head against the wall of impossibility, trying to forgive and move on in my own strength! It brings me to my knees to acknowledge that I’m not an easy person to start with, and since I’ve had the luxury of being forgiven by God and people who love me, I have no reason, whatsoever, not to forgive another!

But the story is far from over…the next level I need to reach is, “I would love you and stick by you, even if you were to let me down a million times over!”

Just when I thought the buck stopped there, God gently nudged me and said, “Baby, the level I want you to reach is even higher…and that is, “I love you till there is no pride left in me to feel let down…I love you the way God loves you…beyond any rhyme or reason…I love you because I love you!”

I shook my head and threw my hands up in the air in sheer haplessness. The farthest I could go was to forgive once and keep a distance! But here’s God wanting me to stick by the people who hurt me at the risk of being hurt again and love them through it all….and at some point in the process, I must learn to love with God’s love and rise above being affected by what others do to me!

Well, this looks particularly difficult for me ‘cos in my dictionary of phrases there’s no thing called “second chance”! I don’t give myself a second chance, let alone others! As has been preached down my being several times already, I can’t give what I don’t have! It all had to start with and in me!

There were areas I had messed up beyond redemption and chosen to bury the hurts within me, and decided to move on, not taking a glance back. What proceeds that is predictable. Later, when similar situations come up, the buried wound opens up, and starts to hurt with double the intensity! Then I go back and examine the past and bandage the wounds, hoping they would heal some day…

And I wake up one morning to the rude fact that, that some day has never come!

The reason for that was evident- I never let God do the total cycle of healing which ends with resilience! Resilience that comes from daring to hit head on with the same/similar situation with a grit to deal with it differently! Healing is never complete without second chances! It has never been about escapism! It is never over, if you get over the hurt only to an extent that equips you to be cautious to avoid similar hurts. All’s well for a while… the days are bright and you hear the birds chirp sweet nothings and life is beautiful…till you fall and sink nose deep into the same situation at unawares, while strutting cautiously around it! Self pity sets in at the opportune moment- “duhhhh! Again!! I’m forever gonna get into the same mess and feel as miserable! I’m a certified Miss. Goof- ups!”

The key is to be intentional about facing similar instances, with the confidence that the earlier hurts are done with and I’d apply the lessons learnt from them to do things right this time! It’s about being kind to myself and giving myself a second chance…It’s about not beating myself up every time I fail at the same thing…It’s about dealing with myself the way God deals with me- gently, patiently, lovingly…so that I may be healed…and may deal with others the same way! Does it mean that I keep doing the same mistakes end number of times? As Joyce Meyer says, “I’ve been around the same mountain many times now…it’s time I did something about it!” When you are patient with yourself and lean on to God’s strength rather than your own, when you become intentional about change…well, you wouldn’t need to go around the same mountain again and again! You’d be out of the circle before you know it! Take heart! There would be a day when you would testify saying, “I used to have a very harsh tongue!” or “I used to not trust people!” and so on.

Extend the same philosophy to the others…give them a second chance… a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, well… how many ever it takes…it’s not for nothing Jesus instructed us to forgive seven seventy times!

The easiest checkpoint would be: Am I following the greatest commandment? Am I walkin’ in love?

Love is patient. It tells you not to give up on yourself or others!

Love is kind. It asks of you to be gentle!

Love does not boast. It wouldn’t let you talk about the umpteen number of times you have forgiven others!

Love is not proud. It leaves no ‘self’ behind to be hurt/let down!

Love is not rude. It would keep you from exploding and speaking unkind words when things go beserk!

Love is not self seeking. It removes the “Fragile: Handle with care” tag from you and puts it on to others!

Love is not easily angered. It smoothens out your touchy edges!

Love keeps no record of wrongs. It wouldn’t remind you of all the others times you’ve been wronged!

Love rejoices with the truth. It enables you to wear your face and not your mask!

Loves ALWAYS protects…ALWAYS trusts…ALWAYS hopes…ALWAYS perseveres!

At the end of this long introspection, I'm left with the simplest of prayers, “Lord, reduce me to love!”

Adversity, where is your sting?

2008-04-22T19:42:00.001-07:00

Foreword: Those of you who sneak into this space just to know wassup in my life and nothing beyond that, please note that you needn’t waste your precious time on the following. In a nutshell, I’m doin' very well, quit my job, and sittin' at home, enjoying the season while it lasts :-) Those of you who want to know more are welcome to read further.

The title of this post has been the triumphant cry of my heart for the last several months. I’ve been feeling it, believing it and living it, all this while. At this juncture, it would be unfair if I don’t share with you a secret: that I wanted to write on the topic, when my life became a li'l better and more rosy and comfortable than what it is now. Then I realized I have a choice between the good and the best. The former is to point to how my life has been turned around completely and glorify God for the same, and the latter, (which according to me is the best option), is to lay bare how hopeless life seems to me at times, and why I would still challenge the current state of affairs, with all the defiance I can muster and trace the rainbow in the rain!

I celebrated my 25th birthday this month. The silver jubilee of my rather conspicuous existence on planet earth! Yes, I said ‘conspicuous’. Conspicuous, first to the devil, because my name has been on his hitlist for 25 years now, and it gives him pain pangs to realise that it’s gonna remain there for eternity! Conspicuous to the people who love me, because I have been part of their lives, to be loved and to love, to be comforted and to comfort, to laugh and to cry with, for 25 long years. I remember many a peril that struck me in this tenure- from the fits that almost ended me as a 3 month old infant, to the emotional turmoil that nearly strangled me to death as a young person, to the truck that missed me by an inch when I crossed the busy road yesterday! I know that if I’m alive and well today, that’s because God isn’t done with me yet and there’s something significant yet to be accomplished in and through me. Looking back at the yesteryears and days, which tell the tale of His faithfulness holding my hand, refusing to let go, I wanna smirk at the devil and spit out to him these words which are my current favorites, “Adversity, where is your sting?”

Relationships have failed me and I have failed them. People have hurt me and I have hurt them. Love in all known forms- parental, sibling, platonic, romantic-has eluded me time and again. The more I reacted in bitterness, the more bitter I became. The more I buried my wounds, the more I wounded others. My life hasn’t been a fairy tale; it’s as real as yours! However, my journey is tagged, “Mission Accomplished”, because it accomplished the one mission it was assigned- to birth the beauty of Christ in me! The journey which started with an overbearing proud being inflated with ‘I, me myself’ has at the moment reached a broken but healed, lost but found, stripped of self confidence but clothed in Godfidence (read as ‘confidence in God! :-)), giving and forgiving, in short, a distant resemblance of Jesus! When I think of how I was built up through the many failures and disappointments so far, and how I’m better equipped to help others who go through the same, I can only mutter under my breath, as I sigh in relief, “Adversity, where is your sting?”

As any young person who wants to be successful in life, I dreamt of a beautiful future and made fool proof plans to reach them. I admit I never had absolute clarity on everything, but I knew what I wanted to become and how I would get there a few years down the line. At some point in life, it felt like I woke up startled from a nightmare and found myself in a place that I was unfamiliar with even in my dreams…I watched helplessly as my plans for the future fade into nothing with every passing moment. I struggled with questions that crippled me every now and then- “Is it that the dream wasn’t from God in the first place?”, “Wouldn’t I have been left jobless or underpaid if I had pursued what I wanted?”, “ How could I end up at a place I couldn’t even picture myself at?” I still do not have answers to any of these. But what I do have now is something called “trust” which tells me “He who wove you in your mother’s womb knows you better than you do, and hence has better plans for you than you do!” It is complimented by something called “hope” which reassures me that “His ways are higher than yours…so are His dreams for you!” As this hope soars high, a certain joy fills my heart and it says, “Look! Don’t you see a proud Daddy smilin’ down at you?" Now, I stand tall with an undeserving Degree in my hand and a future more colorful than my bestest dream! I hold fast to the 5 years of my higher education which came to me unprecedented, as something I wouldn’t trade for the most promising possibility of MY plans coming to pass! If I were to relive those years of not knowing what I was doing, and feeling deprived of living out the desires of my heart, I would see the end from the beginning, and would turn around and ask, “Adversity, where is your sting?”

The present phase of my life is titled “Waiting”. It goes hand in hand with “Growing”, which is a variant of pain itself! When I recline on my bed, taking a hard look at the days gone by and carefully recording the learnings from it all, something within me lets the alarm on, triggering a train of roadkill questions, “Why me?”, “How long?”, “Would there be an end?”, “What if..?” Sometimes, it ends there, but at times it is just the beginning of committing the gravest sin of all- worrying! Adversity creeps in, in its most subtle but deadliest form- self pity! But somehow the silver lining of the cloud manages to shine through. It lies in the fact that I have become irrevocably accustomed to the goodness and faithfulness of God that my mind cannot be pulled down beyond an extent! It recoils to its initial state of rest, though stretched considerably- rest in knowing that God’s putting the pieces together while I choose to wait…

That’s when I experience something rise in my spirit…
Something that gives me strength…
Strength enough to take one step at a time…
To face one day at a time…
Soon I’d soar on wings like an eagle…
Renewed, refreshed, strengthened in my inner man…
I’d run and not grow weary…walk and not be faint…
Adversity, where is your sting?!

The Seven Days to the Rugged Cross!

2008-03-22T08:38:00.000-07:00

"The force behind the hammer wasn't an angry mob…
The hand squeezing the handle wasn't a Roman infantry man…
The verdict wasn't decided by jealous Jews...
Jesus Himself chose the nails…
Had the soldier hesitated, Jesus Himself would have swung the mallet!"

- Max Lucado

A read that gripped me this season...

Seven Days to Live

What can we learn from Jesus' last week on earth?

Bill Hybels

When some celebrity dies—such as Princess Diana or Sonny Bono—filmmakers often scramble to put together a documentary that examines the last hours or days of that person's life.

What if you knew you had only one week to live? What actions, what priorities, would be captured on film?

Passion Week—the last week of Jesus' life, before he faced a criminal's execution on a cross—was an extraordinary week. Jesus knew he was going to die in seven days. He knew it would be an excruciatingly painful death. But there's much we can learn from what Jesus taught and from how he acted in the week preceding Easter Sunday.

Saturday

The weekend before his death, Jesus stayed at the home of three of his closest friends in the small town of Bethany, about two miles outside Jerusalem. These people weren't among his 12 disciples; they were personal friends—Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Jesus chose to spend his last days of freedom with them.

Throughout Jesus' teaching ministry, he emphasizes the importance of community. Jesus continually told all who would listen, "You were created for community with God and others. You were created with a yearning to know and be known, to love and be loved, to serve and be served, to celebrate and be celebrated."

Have you found this kind of community in your life? It's more than good relationships with your family. You need an inner circle of friends who are fellow believers—just as Jesus had—with whom you can be honest, with whom you can "do life" together.

Sunday

On Palm Sunday—six days before Jesus' death—people lined the streets, waving palms as he entered Jerusalem. It was the first-century equivalent of our ticker-tape parades for heroes down the streets of New York City.

Jesus' popularity was at an all-time high; his teaching had astonishing power. Jesus had changed people's hearts and healed them physically. He'd even recently brought someone back from the dead! By far, Jesus was one of the most popular people in the entire Middle East.

But everyone who lined the streets had a different reason for waving those palms. Some were political activists; they'd heard Jesus had supernatural power, and they wanted him to use it to free Israel from Roman rule. Others had loved ones who were sick or dying. They waved branches, hoping for physical healing. Some were onlookers merely looking for something to do, while others were genuine followers who wished Jesus would establish himself as an earthly king. Jesus was the only one in the parade who knew why he was going to Jerusalem—to die. He had a mission, while everyone else had an agenda.

A couple of weeks ago, I spent some time between flights looking at books on spirituality in the airport bookstore. I discovered things haven't really changed in two thousand years. People are still trying to push their agendas for what the power of God can do. What about you?

Monday

On this day, Jesus did something that shocked people. Known for his love, gentleness, and humility, Jesus came into the temple, saw all the little arcades set up for commercial business, and cleaned house. He overturned the merchants' tables and kicked them out of the temple. People had never seen this side of Jesus before.

Why did Jesus act with such passion? Because he saw worship at the temple in Jerusalem going awry. Jesus knew he had to straighten out the situation before he died, was resurrected, and returned to heaven. The message of his transforming power was going to be left in the hands of worshiping communities. Jesus couldn't afford to have any church get distracted and caught up in questionable activities. They alone would possess the message that would change the world. Jesus sent a signal: Don't get sidetracked. Stay on target. Stay on the mission of spreading God's love.

Tuesday

Jesus taught from early morning till late at night. When the sun went down on Tuesday, his earthly teaching was done.

As dusk approached, Jesus taught the parable of the talents. In those final moments before his teaching ministry came to an end, he told his listeners, in essence, "You have one life. That's it. Some of you have all kinds of gifts and abilities; some of you have less. But don't squander the one and only life God's given you; do something noble and great with it." How poignant it is that as Jesus talked about this, he knew his life was almost over.

Jesus also spoke about the day of reckoning. The closest our society comes to that is tax day—April 15—a financial day of reckoning! But Jesus referred to the day when all moral accounts will be settled. He taught that when that day comes, either people will pay for their evil by being separated from God forever, or they'll be rewarded for having accepted Jesus' payment on the cross for the evil they committed. It's either the self-payment plan or the Christ-payment plan—no other option. Jesus urged his listeners to follow his plan. Whose are you following?

Wednesday

Most scholars believe this was a day of solitude for Jesus. He was doing the most important thing he could—getting alone with God. As he quieted himself, he heard the still small whisper of his Father say, "You're on a mission, and it's going to be difficult, but I'm asking you to endure. I'll be with you."

Some would call it a wasted day. Others would say it was a day that gave Jesus strength to do what he needed to do.

We live in a culture that no longer values solitude. We go from one meeting to the next, one deadline to the next, one activity to the next. Too often we fail to quiet ourselves enough to hear what God would say to us—if only we were listening.

What if you took just one hour to go to a quiet place and say, "God, if you have a message for me, I'm listening"? Some of the richest times you'll know in life will be spent in solitude with God.

Thursday

This day, Jesus took a normal Passover meal and changed it forever. All the arrangements had been made, but then the foot-washer didn't show up! The disciples came to dinner with dusty feet, and stood around asking who messed up the arrangements. It never dawned on them that maybe one of them could humble himself to do that for anybody else.

Jesus came, took off his robe, put a towel over his arm, filled a basin with water, then knelt down and started washing the disciples' feet. They couldn't believe it! The Son of God, the Savior of the world—and he had the humility to wash their feet.

In today's words, here's the lesson: True fulfillment never comes from a life of self-gratification. The way to the top in God's economy is through serving. It's finding God's mission for your life and engaging in it. It's finding people you can humbly serve in daily, down-to-earth ways. And when you find God's purpose for your life and pursue it in a spirit of humility and servanthood, your heart spills over with love and gratefulness.

Jesus washed the feet of his disciples, and when he was done, he said, "Now, you go out and live this way."

Friday

On Friday, Jesus voluntarily submitted to be nailed to a cross.

The Bible says at noon the skies got dark. There was an earthquake. The temple veil was torn. People suddenly realized that when Jesus cried out, "It is finished," and then died, he was no ordinary man.

Jesus was taken from the cross, prepared for burial, and put in a tomb.

Thankfully, the story doesn't end there. But what follows next—Saturday—is most difficult of all, because it's the day between the promise and the fulfillment of the promise. Jesus had predicted he'd be crucified, and that he'd rise from the dead. He was dead all right. But would he come back?

On Sunday, Jesus burst forth from the tomb exactly as he'd predicted. The guards at the tomb saw him, went back to tell the officials, "He's alive!" and were paid to keep quiet about it.

Jesus appeared to more than 500 people—cynics as well as believers—before he ascended into heaven. There was no question about whether or not Jesus was resurrected.

I once spoke to a Muslim who knew I was a Christian. He said, "How come you won't convert to Islam?" I said, "'Cause I won't follow a dead guy. It's that simple. Your prophet Mohammed is in the tomb. How can you get behind anything where the leader, the founder who claims to be something, has no evidence for being any different than any other man?" Jesus Christ is the only religious leader whose tomb says "unoccupied."

With his resurrection, Jesus proved he is the Son of God. And by what he did during his last week alive, but most importantly, on Easter Sunday, your life—and your eternity—can be changed forever.

Bill Hybels is senior pastor of Willow Creek Community Church in South Barrington, Illinois.

The diary of a young woman.

2008-03-08T02:36:00.000-08:00

8th March, 2008

To my man!

Sweetheart,

I don’t care who you are, where you are, or what you are like…Oh no! Not that I don’t care in the real sense of the term ‘care’. It doesn’t matter, is what I meant to say! Yep, I’ve started the hem and haw already…:D

It doesn’t matter….
If you’re a Malayali or Mangoli (just for the sake of the rhyme; no pun intended!)…if you’re tall or dark or handsome…if you sport an evening shadow on week days…if you’re momma’s boy… if you plop in front of the TV watching the cricket match, not letting go of the remote (!!)… if you leave the wet towel on the bed…if you forget birthdays and anniversaries…if you can't say, “I love you” as often as I wanna hear it…if you can’t manage two things at a time…if you’re not able to make sense of ‘idioms’ like, “aww…chooo chweet!”…It doesn’t matter ‘cos, I’d love u, anyway!

It doesn’t matter ‘cos…
Whether I’m a beauty pageant winner or a not-so- hot-next door kinda girl…whether I talk like I have no clue of this thing called full stop (!!)…whether I roll on the floor and laugh watchin’ Tom & Jerry…whether I go gung-ho about Josh Groban’s killer voice and looks…whether I’d visit umpteen shops only to come back to the first one to pick up something I like…whether I cry myself to sleep reading one of Danielle Steel’s touchy family novels...whether I nag you into talking when you just need to be left alone…whether I assume inexistent things and weave a story (often animated!) out of such assumptions… it doesn’t matter to you, and you’d love me anyway!

I love the fact that we are not alike…and yet are fearfully and wonderfully made!

I love the fact that we haven’t been chuddy buddies and are ‘not acquainted with each other’s ways’, but are willing to understand each other and grow together…

I love the fact that we’ve been through rough times as individuals and have learnt from it all…and would help each other in pullin’ out the garbage from the past that we lug around…

I love that fact that you’d be in the cheer band, when I’m getting shaped into the Proverbs 31 woman :-)

I love the fact that we’d be partners in crime as we live out I Corinthians 13!

I love the fact that I’m a woman…and that you aren’t one! :D

As the world celebrates the International Women’s Day today, I felt like leavin’ this li’l note for you, my not-yet-discovered-Mr. Right!

And don’t you forget to thank all the incredible men in my life, who have contributed their best into the making of the stunningly beautiful woman that I am today! :-)

Have a great day ahead!

Only yours,

Me.

P.s: All the lovely women in my life!! I don’t need a special day to tell you how special you are! Without you, where would the world be??!

“Who touched Me?”

2008-03-05T06:26:00.001-08:00

Despair was my middle name,
Suffering, my faithful friend;
My face was covered with shame,
Life’s woes would see no end!

Twelve years of shedding bloody tears,
Of a weakened body, mind and soul;
I pressed on, parting all my fears,
“This man would make me whole!”

The crowd was fervent to see the marvel,
Of the Miracle Man healing the sick,
The blind, the lame- all were made well;
For His touch today, won’t I be the pick?

The Master was rushing to Jairus’ house,
His twelve year old was dead and gone;
Alongside the mob, my angst did rouse,
I felt reduced to fate’s absurd pawn!

There was nothing left to try,
“The final chance!” I stiffened my heart!
The prospects of cure were way too wry,
The doctors had all done their part!

Finances were zilch- not a penny,
I had reached the end of the rope,
To turn for help, there wasn’t any,
But, in this man, lay a ray of hope!

I crawled on, believing in the unseen,
I saw a healed me thro’ the eyes of faith,
I reached out with a resolve too strong to ween,
And a grit sharpened in time’s own lathe!

Touching the hem of His garment was all I could do,
In that instant, with an eerie power did I quiver!
He stopped!! “Who touched Me?” Who?!
His voice pierced the din, and made me shiver!

I fell face down at His feet,
My story, in tears I mumbled,
He smiled in no airs of the feat,
My being, in grace, was humbled!

“Daughter!”, said He,
"Your faith has healed you!
With you shall peace be!”
He left. And the crowd too.

I picked myself up,
Blurred in blissful awe,
Suffering’s sour cup,
Lay crushed by faith’s paw!

I know not what to tell
The world, of me or of Him,
But I’d declare aloud, the spell,
My faith had on His hem!

When cures fail and comforts flee,
Rescue is just a Faith- touch away!
He must stop and ask,“Who touched Me?”
Let Him not pass you by on His way!

Based on: Matthew 9:20-22; Mark 5:25-34; Luke 8:43-47

Treading through life’s In-betweens…

2008-02-21T02:12:00.000-08:00

No, I’m not talking about trapped in between the devil and the deep blue sea!
I’m talking about the ordinary and the natural, but the deeply exasperating in- betweens of life. They come in all hues and depths. Some are short lived, while some stretch into infinity. Some are funny, while some excite the tear glands. Nevertheless, they all have one feature in common- a certain uncertain frustration!

It could be, the in-between of a short hair cut and the aspirational sunsilk long hair..
The in-between of being a school student and a college goer…
The in between of being single and married…
The in between of resigning from the existing job and the offer letter of the new one…
The in between of breaking up with a boyfriend and considering another relationship…
In very generic terms, it could be,
The in between of a problem and a solution…
The in between of a state of being and another…
The in between of pain and joy…
I look at it as the short journey across the bridge…
It startled me to realize that at any given point, each one would be going through an in-between phase of their life! We are constantly fighting uncertainty and finding answers and striving to get over the season of waiting and putting the jigsaw pieces together. We are running the race, expecting God to show up with the answer and a wide grin, at the end of it!

I want to share with you a perspective without sounding superfluously philosophical. The article “The God of the Inbetweens” by Mike Yaconelli, that a friend sent to me long back flashed in my mind, as I started to worry about the in betweens I’m treading through. His solution to the problem at hand is to “live passively!” It somehow did not sit well with me when I first read it, ‘cos I’m an ambitious, energetic, intelligent, smart, young woman who wants to live my life ‘actively’. I am someone who has a will, and the wisdom God so kindly put in my head. God has given me the freewill to choose from among the many choices approved by Him. I ‘consult’ God when needed. I am not a robot! I desire! I decide! I do! And that’s how it works for me! I refused to read the whole article, thinking it is a very one-sided opinion of an author who didn’t like to take personal responsibility of his decisions and actions and someone who used God as a crutch! I am someone who’d like to run past the in betweens, as fast as I can, to find God standing at the end of the road with the solution!

As I have always experienced, God sneaks in at the right time. Yes, I said, God ‘sneaks in’. Sometimes, God’s entry is striking not because of its grandeur, but because of its quiet stillness- He literally tip toes into your heart and stands still at one corner! One such day, as I hit my bed after the day’s mad rush of fixing things and speeding out of the waiting phase, I get reminded of this article left unread. Later when I caught hold of it, the following jumped forth at me,

Living passively is seeing God in the in betweens of life.
Beginnings and endings. Starts and finishes. Those are the parts of life that grab my attention. But the passive life is the life of inbetweens, life in the middle. "God," the passive life says, "is found in the everydayness of life, in the middle of life. God is sneaking around in the ordinariness of each day, longing to be noticed, longing to be discovered. It is tragic that much of my life I have looked for God in the momentous, and instead He’s been waiting in the moment." The passive life liberates us from a God of decisions to a God who is between decisions. No wonder my relationship with God is stunted! I have spent most of my life looking for God instead of being with God.”

Living passively is embracing God in the "allness" of life.
It is strange to find God in the brokenness, in the pain, in the "allness of life," and to meet God there, converse with God there, rest with God there in the restlessness of the unresolved. To discover the sweet strangeness of a relationship with God is the unexpected reward of a passive life.”

Yes, God expects us to be persevering and thinking children who wouldn’t let the brains He’s created in us rust. Yes, He has given us the freedom to make choices and decisions with the wisdom and knowledge He’s given us. Yes, He’s more than willing to be the Senior Consultant who would show us the way out when we get entangled and confused. But, there’s a balance to strike, somewhere! When we go through the in betweens, when we don’t find answers, when we don’t understand the why’s, we learn to explore the other way of living life- to live it passively! That’s when we learn to be with God and rest in Him!

Sometimes, it's good to just sit beside God as He takes the driver seat, and enjoy the ride across the bridge!

I’ve just started countin’ my blessings!

2008-01-15T23:11:00.000-08:00

The Best of 2007!

The best compliment:
“Very very rich love, girl!”
Well, I still haven’t figured what prompted you to say that, friend!
You are my Jonathan, indeed!! :D (Jonathan= faithful encourager!)

The best feedback:
“You are unbearably proud!”
I’m not sure if you remember saying this to me...Though you did that in a fit of rage, that got me thinking…thank you, pal!

The most memorable week end:
28-30 Dec 2007

Friday: I tried my hand at single- handed- full- fledged cooking! I had fried rice in mind…but I didn’t know what to make out of it, when it was finally cooked (over cooked). My guest of honor (a long lost friend) tried his culinary tricks on the ‘spoilt’ meal till it was kinda edible! Then, we sat together and sang some good ol’ songs…and another brother in arms dropped in…and we sang…and had coffee…and sang again…beautiful day!

Saturday: My Saturdays are either jam packed with activities or completely idle. I’m yet to bring in some semblance of balance into my Saturdays! This one was different: I went to a Seventh Day Adventist Church after almost 9 years! They had something called Feet Washing before the Communion, which took me by surprise. Before the communion service, you could choose to wash the feet of a person, who would in turn wash yours…my feet washing partner was a sweet old lady! It shook me up completely…it takes heaps of humility to wash someone else’s feet…I was in tears by the time it ended…the emotional intensity the disciples must have felt, when Jesus stooped down to wash their feet would have been uncontainable! A life changin' experience!

Sunday: As usual, the best day of the week! :D

The most blessed time:
My parents came over and stayed with me for a week and a half…I had the time of my life!! At times, we laughed so much that we thought our hearts would break…powerful prayer times… connecting with friends…adventurous dine-at fine places-like the Taj-times…sittin-together-doin-nothin-times...the list would go on. It was more than I could ever ask for! You guys are the bestest parents in the whole wide world!!

The most precious sms:
“I didn’t know I hurt u, chechi…I’m sorry!”
Have you heard of cut pasting one’s heart on to the phone? My li’l sis did that one of these days. How I love you, doll!

The best hair day:
Well, a good hair day rarely happens to me, and hence is worth mentioning! One of those days when I did the Announcements at APC! Oh those curls! :D (Courtesy: the 'secret admirer' who pointed this out, since i was blissfully unaware of the same!)

The best song:
Your love is deep- Deeper than my view of Grace
Your love is High- Higher than this worldly place
Your love is Long- Longer than this road I travel
You love is Wide- Wider than the gap You fill!!
Listen to it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KLGVKfiFTQ

The best one liner: “To err is human, to forgive is not company policy!”

The best movie/s: The Pursuit of Happyness; Taare zameen par.

The biggest noticeable change in perception: “I love Bangalore!”

The biggest influence: Sheila and Bert.

The best surprise package: Ruth and Bob. Angels exist on planet earth!!

The biggest investment: The Winged Words...my blog.

The greatest ‘quotable quotes’ of the year:
“Don’t waste your tears for they are precious!”- The Anointed
“Let Him form you!” - The Winner
“Be grateful!”- The Dot
“Surrender!"- The Gracious
“Love is a verb!”- The Braveheart
“Look at my heart and not at my actions!” – The Leader

Still countin'....

Still!

2007-12-26T10:11:00.000-08:00

I kissed my dreams good bye,
Made up my mind not to cry,
Warned my wits against askin’ why,
Life seemed like one big lie!

Thought my heart was torn into two,
In the tug between revolt and rue;
There wasn’t a thing left to do,
Future had become too drab to woo!

I got no sleep- not a wink,
My mind was too muddled to think,
Those were times I thought I’d sink,
Troubled waters had reached the brink!

Then, through the rain, I heard a voice,
“Peace, be still!”, with all the poise,
That stripped the tempest of any choice,
But to calm, till there was no noise!

Then I felt a tingle in my heart,
“God’s touch!”- I grasped with a start,
Mending hands darned many a part,
Of a shredded me- His work of art!

Mate, don’t you think that He’s asleep,
When trouble strikes and it hurts so deep,
His voice would calm the waves most steep,
Be still and know, that promises He will keep!

Away, in a Manger...

2007-12-24T23:15:00.001-08:00

Another Christmas comes by…

I sit in my poorly furnished rented apartment, sipping self-made chai, lost in a world of my own…

Sweet memories of the Christmases gone by, linger…

This year, I decided not to go home.
The mega family reunion isn’t happening either…Christmas has always been the well-justified reason for the family scattered all over the globe to come together…

I miss my family...
I miss good ol’ friends…the laughter…the clatter…

I’m afraid, I’m giving you a very melancholy picture of a poor soul bereft of the Christmas joy!

NO!

This Christmas is the most special of the all the others I’ve had so far!

And here’s why…

I don’t miss Jesus, this time!

For the first time, I sat in absolute awe of the Infinite, Indescribable, Massive God, confining Himself to a tiny cell in the virgin’s womb…Do you get the picture that stumped me? The Creator King, stooping down to be one of his creations…the Star-breather, reducing Himself to a curse on the cross…the Omnipotent, Omnipresent, Omniscient God coming in search of a nobody called me! Last Christmas, I gladly shrunk into a lowly Bethlehem and reveled in my identity I found in it…this time, I’m marveled at the very concept of the BIG GOD choosing to come into Bethlehem…and at the magnanimity of the love that compelled Him to do so! “For God sooo loved the world….” has begun to make sense to me, at last!

This is the first time, I let the Savior own my manger! How ridiculous is the idea of the Most Holy God choosing a smelly, filthy manger, for his grand entry into the world He created? And, how much of a fool would you have to make of yourself, to let the very same Holy God step into the manger of your life? That filthy area of life replete with ungodliness, which you are ashamed to open up in front of anyone? I don’t know what the manger means for you. But for me, it was an area full of hurt, bitterness, unforgiveness and rebellion! Through the years I had let Him step into it- I must add, into the relatively cleaner areas of it! This time, He was asking for more- He wanted to own it! I couldn’t have debated that for long…He only had to remind me that He’s already paid a huge price for it and is awaiting my approval!

What do you do, when you are swept off your feet?
Well, this Christmas, I’m too bowled over to even hum a love song, let alone a carol! :-)

Have a Merry CHRISTmas, my beloved readers!!! God bless you!!!

I call it 'perseverance'! Whatcha think??

2007-11-28T03:11:00.000-08:00

When everythin' fails...

2007-11-23T03:16:00.000-08:00

When you walk down the road,
Wishin' someone held your hand,
Hold fast the promises,
Hug tight all your dreams,
‘Cos that’s all you’ve got…
To help you carry on!

What if the time’s not ripe
For the promises to be kept?
And the hope's too frail,
To take you till then?
And the faith's too small,
For the mountains to move?

What if the whips of time
Have battered your trust?
And the dreams seem too big,
To be pursued and found?
And they struggle out of your arms,
As fast as they snuggled into them?

That’s when you pause
Mid way on the road,
To hold no promises,
To hug no dreams…
It seems like there’s nothin’
To help you carry on!

Friend, when you get there,
Look deep into your heart;
And see somethin’ that’s greater
Than the Faith and the Hope…
It is the Love that gives and forgives,
Which is the greatest of all!

It’s never about fallin' in love,
It’s all about learnin' to love!
It stretches the limits of mercy,
It calls for layin’ down of life!
It gives you the Father’s eyes,
To see the world as He does!

It hurts to love,
It hasn’t been cheap,
But, if you have love,
You’ve got it all,
And, if you’ve lost it,
You’ve blown ‘em all!

Catch Me, if you will!

2007-09-26T05:33:00.000-07:00

From the corner of my eye, I saw daddy standing just next to me. I smiled to myself, thinking this game is not going to be so much fun. I could turn around, reach out and get hold of him! I did just that, but lo! I did not catch him. He had moved farther from me in a matter of seconds.

“Aha! He’s quite good at it…he’d soon know that I’m better!” I tried it one more time only to miss him again. My confidence or the excess of it wasn’t helping me!

But I wasn’t going to give up. I ran about in the room, in a frenzy to catch him. He would slip away in no time.

“Catch me, if u can”, he screamed in spite of the panting.

I paused; sharpened my ears not to miss the sound of his steps.

“This time he wouldn’t even know when I’m gonna make the move”, I waited for the opportune moment and swung my hand around…I almost touched him this time, but that was far from getting hold of him.

Daddy was laughing.

I was offended! This is not fair! He’s bigger and stronger and faster…this is grossly unfair! “I’m not gonna play this silly game!”

“Sonnie, take a chance, just one more time!”

I had started walking away.

“Big boys don’t give up so easily...catch me, if you will!” he cried out.

That was all I needed to hear. I turned and dashed towards daddy…I had my arms stretched out…I knew I was going to get him now or never…I saw him frantically trying to escape my grab…and finally, I caught him!

“You are the smarter one, huh?” he teased me, as we laughed in each other’s arms.

I felt his heartbeat against mine...I knew my father had let me catch him…he had slowed down without my knowing it, so that I raced up to him to get hold of him…I felt small…but I was glad to have a big daddy who’d stoop down for me...to see me win!

I’m beginning to see the various facets of my Heavenly Father. In the process, I realize that there’s much more to His serious disposition that I had always known. He loves to play with you and let you catch Him. He cries out to you, "Catch me, if you will!" You just need to have the willingness to seek, to catch Him! There is a certain inexplicable tenderness and excitement about Daddy letting you catch Him- His heart and His will…I guess, that’s what I love the most about this Super Dad!

Chak De!

2007-09-12T20:05:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: This is not a movie review though it is essentially about the movie in the headlines.

I finally watched Chak de India. Being extremely critical of Bollywood movies, I prefer not lavishing my resources on the same. But, as I walked out of the cinema, I thought the 180 bucks I spent on this one was worth it! That could be because I went in with absolutely no expectations…The theme was not strikingly different from the ones we have seen on silver screen by now. The songs weren’t outstanding. The actors did a good job- but nothing earth shattering. (I was definitely grateful to SRK that he did not overdo it, as he does always!). It told the same old story of teamwork and added to the case studies B- schools already have in their kitty. There were no surprises in the end. But, there was something about it that greatly appealed to me, for sure.

What I liked most about the movie was that it echoed my distaste for the clan behaviour we see in our country. I am a die hard believer of Unity in Diversity and a fervent propagator of National Integration. (I intend to practise what I preach by encouraging inter state marriages in my family). Why is it that it takes so much of effort to think and act like an Indian, and not like a Punjabi or a Madrasi? Why is it that when people from the same state meet, they are overcome by this irresistible desire to converse in their mother tongue, irrespective of whether the others in the group followed it or not? I’m not talking about the frogs in the well who have not ventured out of their own states. It saddens me that even with the intellectually upper middle class population, who have seen the world relatively more, it isn’t any different!

My three flat mates and I were chatting one evening. To set the context, we were all from different states- Rajastan, Maharashtra, Punjab and Kerala. All have studied in reputed colleges in the country and have had friends from different states and cultures. In the middle of the conversation, one exclaims in disgust, in a hushed voice, “I know! These South Indians!” I was amused to see how her face reddened in embarrassment as it suddenly occurred to her that I am from Kerala and Kerala is located to the south of India and that qualifies me to be one of those ‘South Indians’! I was not offended. Till date I don’t think I am any different from them other than that I couldn’t speak their mother tongues as well as they did, the same way they couldn’t speak mine the way I did. The similarity between them and I would be that I am as Indian as they are!

It was the final day of interview at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences. One lady rushed to me and started talking to me in a language I barely understood. Seeing that she did not intend to stop the rattling inspite of the perplexed look on my face, I decided to interrupt, “Excuse me, ma’am. I don’t seem to follow the language you are speaking in. Would you speak in English please, if you don’t mind?” She paused and took a hard look at me “Oh, I’m so sorry. I mistook you for a Bengali”, she was indeed disappointed! “It’s okay. How could I help you?”, I responded. Pretending not to hear me, she turned away from me and took the risk of identifying another Bong who came that way. The rattle in Bengali resumed. “I heard the Head of the Department is a Bong too!” she remarked sharply as if to make sure that the non Bongs around her (including me) could very well lower their hopes of making it to the course, on account of not being a part of the ‘elite league’! (I did not find her daughter in my class when the course started, though!)

My friend from Hyderabad commented reassuringly, “You are kinda fair, re…you don’t look like a South Indian!” He must have thought that I would be flattered. I gave him a faint smile in response to his ‘racist’ remark, wondering how silly it was to conclude on where one’s from based on one’s skin colour. I felt relieved that I wasn’t too fair not to look like an Indian!

I was sharing a Sardarji joke that I came across recently and I noticed my friend from the same community was not very amused. I knew he had misunderstood me for having fun at his expense! I switched to my favourite pastime- imitating Lolakutty, much to his surprise. Have we lost the spirit of laughing at ourselves? Why do we become unnecessarily ‘sensitive’ and crack these jokes behind the backs of people who belong to these communities?

It was the time to introduce ourselves to each other. “I am from Ranchi”, that was following her saying her name and the company she worked for. Just as I opened my mouth to introduce myself, she added, “That’s in North India.” I was so surprised at this that I could only manage to mumble “I’m from Alleppey District, India”. “Oh…the backwaters! Must be a beautiful place!”, she looked thrilled. I could have assumed that she wouldn’t know my place and explained to her that it is in South India. I decided not to be that wicked. What in the world made her think that I was so ill informed of my country’s geography that I wouldn’t know that Ranchi is the capital of Jharkhand?

“You North Indians come to our state and take off all the good jobs leaving us jobless! What else do you expect us to do?”, the shop keeper, close to our house in Bangalore yelled at my Punju friend when she asked him why the stuff in his shop was over priced! Didn’t he know that unemployment is a universal problem?

I had goose bumps when Kabir Khan asked the girls to introduce themselves as from Team India! Goose bumps come and go. But then, Chak de wasn’t the answer to my concern. One of my dearest friends seated next to me in the cinema, did not fail to point out, “Hey, that girl with the red streaks..she’s a Mal…in fact, three out of the entire gang of girls in the movie are Mals!” She went on to explain other details about the Mal girls, which hardly registered in my mind. I was simply thinking of how long it would take for my people to feel Indian, for a change!

The Wind and you...

2007-09-11T06:39:00.000-07:00

Have you ever felt like a feather floating in the air?

Sliding down gently…effortlessly…blissfully…glancing down to see the lustrous valley stretching into eternity…they call it the La La Land! Looking up, you see the clear blue expanse…
“I own the sky and the valley below!”, you fake the tone of an important person and laugh at the unsuccessful attempt, roseate in innocence!

Suddenly, it feels like a jerk…it is just the brisk wind that tossed you around…and you twirl…and twist…and turn…to chuckle…to glide gracefully- again!

There are trees, all tall and strong…they are not intimidating…but you don’t stop to make friends with them…neither do you forget to gift them a shy smile…
As you perch on the dew dripping leaf tip to rest for a while, you skid on to kiss the wild lilly beneath…

Life’s beautiful!

Love is real!

Friends are forever!

Just when you make up your mind to anchor for good, the wind is back to take you on its course…
It isn’t a ride gay and bright…it’s but all flutter and flurry…so you whine like a child and act like a brat…
La La Land isn’t as long as eternity, as you had imagined!
You hear the humming of the fainting robin…
A drop of tear for the sweetness passed by- the valley and the mountains… and the trees… and the leaf…and the wild lilly…

You feel the evening sun gleam across your cheek…soon the smile returns…so does the song in the heart!

You are floating your way…to a land far far away that you’ve only heard is lovelier than the lovliest your eyes have ever seen …

On the wings of the wind…yes, on the wings of the wind- a journey worth not settling for the wayside charm!

The cry of our hearts...

2007-08-16T01:12:00.000-07:00

O! Dispenser of India's destiny,

Thou art the ruler of the minds of all people;

Thy name rouses the hearts of Punjab, Sindh, Gujarat, Maratha,

Dravida, Utkala (Orissa) and Bengal;

It echoes in the hills of the Vindhyas and Himalayas,

It mingles in the rhapsodies of the pure waters of Yamuna and the Ganga,

They chant only Thy name,

They sing only the glory of Thy victory,

They seek only Thy auspicious blessings;

The salvation of all people waits in Thy hands,

O dispenser of India's destiny,

Victory, Victory, Victory, Victory to Thee!

Amen

For a legendary woman...!

2007-08-09T14:23:00.000-07:00

Today’s Amma’s birthday!

She stepped into her mid forties…boy! she looks just as pretty as she was on her wedding day!

I’ve been thinking of writing on her for some time now. Every time, the thought crossed my mind, I’d wonder where to start from and end at…in the process, I’d almost unconsciously graze over the pastures of good old memories and get lost…this time, I thought I’d translate some of it into words, before I’m lost completely, one more time.

“You were like my handbag…I took you everywhere I went” she chuckled. “I spoke to you about almost everything and everyone…you were my best friend…my li’l doll!” the smile wouldn’t fade from her face, as she went on and on about how we did life together. I’m her first born. She had me when she was twenty two. And, at one, I became her best friend! Somehow, I like the ‘handbag’ metaphor better!

She always wanted her first child to be a girl. For the second and the third, she was neutral, she said. She was granted the desire of her heart- “You were dark and tiny, when you were born…I was told that it’s a girl and I wasn’t surprised…I always knew it…It was love at first sight…my vision was blurred…and I overheard someone say that u r unusually bluish dark…but, I loved my bundle of joy, blue or black!” (My body was back to normal fair complexion two hours later, except for my left elbow which, till date, remains dark!)

It is so true that when we reach a certain age, wisdom condescends to dawn on you, and you understand things a lot better. In my case, however, the time I took to see my mother’s heart was rather illegitimate!

Sometimes, Freudian theories seem to make sense to me. I wasn’t very fond of my mother when I was young…she was always in the background- the constant help in times of trouble, an active listener to my adventures at school (as I embarked on my non stop yapping, on coming home), a connoisseur of my non sense jokes- but, always taken for granted! My father was my hero. I loved him more than anyone else, looked up to him, and admired everything about him…I was proud to be Acha’s girl! I even took after him. "One look at you, and anyone would know this is Sunny’s daughter", people used to say.

As I entered my teens, Amma became close to a nuissance- to my mind, she was unreasonable and absolutely not understanding. When I seemed to lose my focus on studies and my mind started to wander (blame my age!!), she would sense it with unbelievable precision and would do the needful- that might be in the form of a gentle warning, a violent chiding, or a nasty look- she conveyed the message, nevertheless! Acha was understanding, I thought. He didn’t interfere much in my life. Later I realized, that was because he never ‘sensed’ me slip…it wasn’t the trust that he had in me, but the ignorance that made him seem more understanding than Amma!

“How much did Tom, Dick and Harry score?” would be Amma’s first question, when I came home with my marks for the unit test. She wasn’t interested in how well I fared. On a relative scale, if I did well, she was happy and nothing else could make her happy.

She was good at Math and I hated it (was terrible at it too!). When she taught me the subject, I’d end up fightin’ with her till she gave up on it!

I had to participate in every competition in town! I was good at singing, dancing, public speaking and writing…I used to do painting as well…and yes, I brought home many trophies and she still treasures all the certificates I piled up…

My mother was living her dreams through me…and it broke her heart if I were anything but the best. All that I considered small joys were big for her…I’m not justifying her. But with time, I matured and I knew why she was doing what she was doing…and I saw her heart!

A ‘certified’ brilliant student in school, all- rounder, ambitious enough to dream as big as becoming an I.A.S officer, graduated in Physics (and NOT in Botany/Zoology which are supposed to be ultra easy subjects, according to her!), got married at 20 before she left college, (the concept of marriage was sold to her on ‘solid’ grounds of her father being a heart patient, and her having a younger sister, the foolishness in letting go of the ‘good’ alliance that came her way, etc, etc), gave up the alternate dream of teaching as her husband thought it wasn’t good enough a career option, didn't pursue post graduation 'cos of unfavourable circumstances, had the first child at 22…had the next, while cherishing her first- hand motherhood…had the final one, two years later…by then, she had become a full-time regular labourer at home- Baby Sitter cum Tutor cum Chief Chef cum Private Secretary (to my father) cum HR Manager of the household- she owned a versatile career! She didn’t realize that she had made herself irreplaceable and hence, she hasn’t gotten promoted till now! – that’s Amma’s story!

As years passed by, I saw my mother grow. When she fell, she got up, dusted the dirt off her and continued to run! She forgot not to grab the scrolls of lesson every time she picked herself up! She doesn’t go hysteric when my brother comes home with an average score on his report card…she doesn’t have sleepless nights, when my sister does not come first in that solo singing competition…she doesn’t go beserk when I tell her I’m in love...she doesn’t question God’s love, when things don’t go the way they should...

When I look at Amma, I see my inspiration, my role model- the complete woman! She did revel in self pity and cried over spilt milk for some years…but, she grew past it, soon after. She is no super woman with accolades to her credit. But she brought up confident children who know that their self sufficiency comes from knowing God…she held her family close to her bosom and kept it warm when everything around it fell apart…she proved to the world that it is possible to defeat male chauvinism with sheer grace…she lived the vows of marriage by sticking to her husband in richness and poverty, in health and sickness…I can’t begin to list it all…she’s beginning to look more than a super woman to me!

“Amma, I haven’t told you as often as I should, that I love you…never have I told you that I’m proud of being your daughter, and I would strive to make you proud…For some strange reason, I’ve sincerely hoped that you wouldn’t find out that I have an irresistible instinct to jump with joy when someone says “U look exactly like Reji, especially that smile of yours!” I wonder how and when Acha’s replica began to look like you! I’ll never forget how you watched me from a distance as I scaled heights and came running to my rescue, when I tumbled down…I didn’t realize for a long long time, why it hurt you when I did…however fervently you’d like to dispute it, I know that I’m special to you…the first medal, the first salary, the first love- if things of this genre are special, the first baby ought to be special! After all, I’m your li’l handbag! God bless you, Amma! Happy Birthday!!”

Yours,

Divi.

Do not disturb: Work in progress!

2007-07-27T23:03:00.000-07:00

Regular blogging had become alien to me, till my last post…not that, during the hiatus, I was too busy to jot something down, or that nothing provoked me to write…just that I knew if I did, I’d write something that I’d regret later…I’ve intended this space to be somewhere people would drop in to read something that would build them, and not sap their enthusiasm for the day! My laughter has been infectious…my zest for life isn’t any exception…hence, I presumed, my bitterness would be no different!

So, here I am, to start from where I stopped…to tell you the story of the phoenix!

It’s funny how you take time to look into yourself. The past few months have been tumultuous. They took me on a roller coaster, and by the time I touched the ground, I was too nauseated to pick the speck of dirt from my friend’s eye. Instead, I turned to myself, and chose to work on lifting that log from mine! After all, that was causing me more pain!

It’s humbling to count one’s blessings; it tells you how much you owe God. I recently discovered that it’s equally humbling to count one’s weaknesses. It shows you how tough the road ahead of you to reach your ultimate goal of Christ likeness is! The other day, one of my colleagues mentioned how one should focus on one’s strengths to reach where one wants to. I agree to that only partly. If the crap in you is getting in the way of your strengths, you better deal with that first! “I have purified you by giving you troubles” (Isaiah 48:10). God definitely knew what He was saying. It is in trouble that the garbage within you surfaces…it is in trouble that you get to see beyond the tip of that ice berg…It is in trouble that you have the good fortune to get it out of your system for good…it is in trouble that you are purified!

Looking back, I am grateful…

To God, for having his eyes constantly fixed on me…I can only imagine the joy of the goldsmith as he watches the gold clearing in the furnace to see his own image in it!

To all my dear friends who constantly reminded me that I have a happy head over smart shoulders…and that smile looks good on me! :-)

To my mentors who believed in me more than I did…

To my mother, who stood by me like a rock…you are a legend!

Each day, I realize, I need to change- for the good, and that isn’t impossible. The hurt that it brings isn’t inevitable, either. I’m learning to make the right choices everyday- to love, to forgive, to speak a word that would heal, and more importantly, to notice the sparkle in the other’s eyes, and not that speck of dirt!

My pursuit of Happyness! :-)

2007-07-22T22:15:00.000-07:00

Following is something I posted a while ago. I deleted it 5 minutes later, though! Posting it again, 'cos my life has gotten better and you'd like to know how...

I moved with my colleague into a 1 BHK (without having to pay a huge deposit)- a nice, cozy and airy house...now we have a place to call OUR OWN!!

We have a 'furnished' kitchen...yeah, we cook now!

We have a maid who comes to do the dishes and clean the house...

No curfews...

Nice locality...

Good neighbours...

I learnt to ignore sickening men...my self esteem isn't dependent on how well others behave!

And, we have a regular rik wallah who comes to drop us to office and back home...

We rediscovered the joy of living and not mere existence!

Yes, I'm a happy woman today! :-)

I made a choice- to DO something about my frustration, rather than immersing myself in self pity, and I discovered that that's the only way it works! :-)

My winged words a couple of months ago...

Garden City- IT capital of India, Bengalooru, (the erstwhile Bangalore) has been testing my patience for the past 10 months!

I stepped into this city, not by choice, but because my company posted me here. My application letter clearly stated “Preferred location: Mumbai/Pune”. Nevertheless, the business needed me in Bangalore and I couldn’t have overlooked that!

“When you are new to a place, you’d feel desparate…3 months down the line, you’d hit a wall, and you’d say, you wanna pack up and leave, for good! But, if you survive that, you’d never wanna leave the place!”, my friend shared his wisdom, when I was cribbing about how I badly wanted a transfer to Mumbai. Though it sounded like ‘easier said than done’, I saw a glimmer of hope in there…may be, after a few months, I’d start liking the city…those 3 months were gone, so were the rest of the months and days, till yesterday…and even as I stand on the threshold of completing a year in this place, I feel nauseated that I’m still here!

I jump into conclusions. But not this time!

I have reasons why I feel the way I do…

Bangalore is not the place for someone who is not self sufficient and own something called self respect!

If I had a house of my own, a chauffeured car, and two maids to do the chores and “I care a damn” attitude, Bangalore could have been heaven. Pollution and traffic are no longer things we should whine about. They are legitimate part and parcel of city life!

But I’m only an ordinary citizen of India, who has a decent job, thanks to the brand name of the institutions she studied in…forced to live as a Paying Guest as she can’t afford to pay the huge deposits the landlords ask for houses/flats…doesn’t have a choice to go back home (which happens to be God’s own country!) ‘cos it doesn’t have enough industries to fetch her an equally decent job…travels around the place at the mercy of rikshaw wallahs and friends with bikes…gets dagger looks from the land lady, when she gets ‘late’ (a very subjective term!)…

At least after 17 long years of hardship aka 'education' (excluding Kinder Garten!), which includes 3 years of restricted and 2 years of unrestricted hostel stays, to have a salary account which gets filled in decently every month, I wanna live my life! I wanna live a hassle- free life…standing tall on my own two feet…for once!!

The trigger to this blog and sudden download of frustration is the nightmare that was yesterday. I got out of office at around 6:45 pm, and since then have been stationed outside the gate, for the next harrowing 40 minutes of my life! Yes, I don’t have a vehicle- not even a 2 wheeler. I’m waiting for a rickshaw wallah who would condescend to take me home! I’d stretch out my hand at the sight of any yellow-black vehicle with the big glowin' nose that would be coming my way screeching. To the distasteful look on the driver’s face suggesting, “Kahaan jana hai?”, I’d most humbly respond, “JP Nagar, II phase”. And lo! He would just turn the other way, curling his lips in disgust…and his li’l dirty vehicle takes wings...poof! He’s gone! And, does this affect my life or 'perseverence'? Not at all! I’ve gotten used to feeling like a piece of……! I’d repeat the ‘exercise’ as the next rik comes!

And yesterday, the experience got on to a different level of intolerance! I would have been turned down by over 30 rikshaws before I finally got one! After a day’s hard work, when you finally manage to get off the office, you stand stranded on the road! Well, that’s not a happy feeling! What if a couple of men who doesn’t seem to be in their senses, hover around you, stripping you of the last shred of thread on your body, with their lustful eyes? I couldn't help thinking that I could consult one of them for my bra size when I went to buy one next! One managed to ‘brush’ past me and I felt his dirty breath down my neck...

I was startled…it is not disgust that I felt then…it was only helplessness- nothing less, nothing more! When people make you feel no better than a chunk of flesh…when you have crossed your saturation point of tolerance…when your self esteem gets trampled in front of your eyes…it’s nothing more than helplessness that you feel! My body felt numb, my heart boiled over…listening to my friend’s ‘spiritual’ solution to the problem only deepened the frustration…I came back home and broke down! So much for being a woman!

It was no longer about the city or the rickshaws…it was about this genus of sickening men you find in abundance in some parts of the country, in particular…I don’t care if I sound like a coward…but I want a transfer! I'm kicking my heels to get back to aamchi Mumbai- the city after my heart!

Lessons of Life.

2007-05-04T06:15:00.000-07:00

Life is short.

Live it to the lees.

Lower the “I”.

Lavish His love.

Laugh in freedom.

Live up to the Cross.

Leave a lasting legacy!

This is what I’ve been learning off late. And yes, learning is a painful process…but the good news is that I’m learning…

I’ve been wondering about the concept of life in abundance...Jesus came to give us life…life in all its abundance- replete with trials and victories, ‘on top of the world’ and ‘down the drains’ seasons, sobs and laughters…

That was a fair deal, I thought! A complete package! A perfect end to end delivery!

The call is not to brood in our world of worries, but to pick up the pearls of wisdom that we found on that road of suffering…to walk into the future with our heads held high…to enjoy the now…to feel the blanket of His love in depths and highs alike…to cherish the pain of waiting…to be still and know that He is God!!

Everything, but this…

2007-04-21T02:24:00.000-07:00

He called out my name…
With a precision beyond doubt…
Yet…
“No, it’s not me”…I quickened my steps,
As if I were running for life…
Pretending not to hear!

He decided not to call me again…
Instead, came in my way…
Stood like a wall that wouldn’t shake…
Engulfing my very being!
“Where can I flee from Your presence?”
I felt a chill down my spine…

And, as His eyes met mine,
I stared at the floor..
My head hung in shame!
“Would you give this up?”
His familiar voice rang in my ears…
Expectant of an answer…

“Take everything- my belongings,
my talents…my breath…
But…not this!”
I was defiant…
I had made up my mind…
I was not going to give this up!

“But, you promised you would!”
The reminder cut thro’ my heart like a sword…
“I can give up everything but this…”
I groaned…
“Tell me, why won’t you?”
He was persistent!

“It’s gonna hurt…real bad!”
I was crying…

Thought my heart would burst…
Silence weighed upon me…

He was waiting…may be, even wishing
That I saw he collected each tear drop of mine!

“Take everything- My Comfort,
My Peace, My Joy…My Son!”

“Would you trade your pain for these?”
This time, He was pleading!

A glance at His merciful face…
“What am I, that You are mindful of me?”

I flung open my arms…
My knees hit the floor…

“Nothing can separate you from My love”
The promise came to life!

I felt light…free…happy!

I had given it up, before I even knew it!

Celebrating womanhood!

2007-03-15T03:50:00.000-07:00

One of my friends asked me the other day, “So, how did your Women’s Day celebs go?” Till then, I hadn’t given it a thought! Needless to say, I mumbled “Well, it went well…err…there was some celebration at office…but then, I was in a training…” After a long pause, he labelled me a loser, for not celebrating womanhood on that very day which the so-called chauvinistic world had condescended to offer me and my species!

On 8th March, I was in a training session and the men in our team so kindly made an effort to make us feel special…they verbally declared how great it is to have women in this world…they did pause and remember their mothers, sisters, wives and of course, girl friends and reiterate that they cherish them all…then they gifted us with different cute goodies. I loved what I got- a heart shaped photo frame- silver lined!

My sms folder was jammed with “Happy Women’s Day” messages…My email account crossed the warning threshold in a couple of days…I didn’t miss the beam on my friend’s face as she showed me what her company gifted her with on that day…

BUT,

I did not feel special that day! I simply did not!

BECAUSE,

It was a day I lived to the fullest- like any other day!

It was a day when I felt taken for granted, and chose not to do the same in return- like any other woman!

It was a day when I fondly remembered and blessed all the awesome people in my life - like anyone who counts their blessings!

It was a day when I bit my tongue when it was about to rattle the good- for- nothing feminist ideologies I once so fervently believed in- like any one who has had wisdom dawned on them!

It was a day when my heart ceased to seethe in anger- like any other heart which has learnt to forgive!

It was a day when I went on my knees in prayer against the injustice in this world- like any other who knows that the battle belongs to the Lord!

It was a day when I fell in love all over again with the one who created me a woman- like on every other day after I met my Saviour!

Nevertheless, I went back into history to find out what this day was all about (quite interesting to note the hype around it now!). Even though one might claim that it makes a difference to some of us to have a day set aside for ourselves, I’m not convinced that it isn’t a mockery…not when the concern and appreciation get confined to the sugary 24 hour duration of the International Women’s Day!!!

Let me...

2007-02-26T21:06:00.000-08:00

Walk in the rain…

Smell the damp earth…

Smile at the sky…

Sing my song…

Hold your hand…

Live the moment…

Down the memory lane...

2007-02-19T10:07:00.000-08:00

One of my favorites...learnt it several years ago...English, Kerala State Board:)

Palanquin Bearers

Lightly, O lightly we bear her along,

She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;

She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream,

She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream.

Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing,

We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

Softly, O softly we bear her along,

She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;

She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,

She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride.

Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing,

We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

- Nightingale of India (Sarojini Naidu)

Don't give up!!

2007-02-16T21:20:00.000-08:00

Have you had a day when Murphy’s Law took its toll so badly that you would finally believe in it?

Today was one of such days in my life- Everything possible went wrong almost simultaneously…I was hurt…left to bleed, and pick myself up when I was upto it!

You want to talk…you don’t trust that anyone would be willing to listen!

You are part of a set of friends almost as close as family…yet, you feel lonely in the crowd!

You try calling up an old friend…she doesn’t pick the call!

You find another friend online…in minutes after you ping him, he’s offline!

You suddenly seem to realize that it’s too late to call anyone up…and even worse, you begin to wonder if you have any one at all, who wouldn’t mind attending your call in the middle of the night, when they are cozy under the blanket and are fast asleep!

And, there’s this annoying voice at the back of your mind enlightening you on how worthless, useless, insignificant and undeserving a person you are…you slowly succumb to a “nobody loves me” syndrome!!!

I’m sure you’ve faced this some time in your life…now, I’m gonna share with you a secret on how to get back to normalcy- it’s tried and tested and proved to be successful (at least by me!). The secret would run into a few points (Now you know that I’m an MBA!)

1...Life is a mix of good and bad days- one of the bad days showed up today- Look it in the face- you are no coward!

2…Your belief in God is not a passport to a carefree life- God’s there to take care of you through your life’s cares- send an SOS to heaven (read as ‘pray’), if need be!

3…Your identity is not on how a day went, or how the people around you treated you- You are worth the breath of life that was blown into you by the Creator- nothing less!

4…Count your blessings- If it disgusts you to count the blessings that came in today, it’ll be worthwhile to think about how worse the things gone wrong could have been! (I guarantee a sigh of relief following this!)

5…Stop the thought process around I, Me, Myself!- What could you do to bring a smile on someone’s face? How good a listener have you been today? Were you willing to go an extra mile to help someone out?

Well, once you calm your heart and get yourself thinking in these lines, you’d realize that life isn’t that bad, after all!

The Second Toast!

2007-02-08T09:35:00.000-08:00

It was our wedding that day,
The day much yearned for,
The wait was long and tough,
Trust me, moments would grow into eons!
But it was sweetness beyond compare
As the longing was mutual!

Finally, came the day worth our wait,
When our lives would be knotted together!
Relatives and friends thronged our house,
There was jubilee in the air!
Some special friends came too,
And one was Jesus, the Nazarene!

My eyes scanned the vicinity,
To steal a glimpse of my man,
That’s when I caught a streak of panic,
On my father’s pensive face…
And, in a loud whisper, someone alarmed,
“Oh! We ran out of the wine!!!”

Soon, there was chaos unprecedented…
Servants rushed in fretful desperation…
My brother struggled to humor the guests,
As his lips quivered in a nervous smile…
I noticed Mary running to her son,
“How would he help?” I mused in bleakness.

They were filling the jars with water,
I awaited the shame that was yet to strike,
“Are we serving water for wine?”
My heart cried out in silent anguish…
‘Serve it here’ and ‘There too’- distant voices clamored,
Unaware of the empty jars, once full with fine wine!

The jars of water were ready,
And Jesus ordered them to be served,
I shut my eyes refusing to witness,
The disgrace that shadowed my Big Day!
Then, I heard the clatter of a second toast,
“You spared the finest for the last!”

This is the tale of my wedding,
I tell my children and grandchildren,
And oft my li’l ones wonder,
“What did Jesus do to the water?”
“Well, when the Creator looked, the water blushed,
And turned into wine!” I’d remark with a smile.

That was just the beginning of the legend
Of the Miracle Man, who turned my shame to fame!
They killed him, but His miracle sustained,
He rose again on the Third day!
I pressed against the crowd to see Him rise to Heaven;
He looked…and I blushed…“Rabbi, I’d turn into what You want me to be!”

I'm just thinking aloud...

2007-02-06T23:07:00.000-08:00

It is the age of reality shows. While the debate on how real these shows are continues, they seem to rule the leading channels, entertaining a huge chunk of the ‘aam janta’ who find pleasure in eavesdropping into the iron curtained territories of the likes of Big Boss and Big Brother.

Shilpa being at the receiving end of a ‘racist’ becomes as hot a topic as Saddam’s execution! Governments react, Leaders clarify, Nations empathize, Minorities roar, Apaches and Rushdies retort…AND, alongside, TRPs soar, Participants rise to fame, and Shilpa, epitomizing the ‘victimized Indian on English land’ becomes a small- time desi star- turned- international celebrity worth millions, overnight!

I did not think she deserved the attention she received. My otherwise patriotic self didn’t experience goose bumps on witnessing the Indian beauty bag the prize outsmarting her ‘white- skinned counterparts’ (Apologies in advance for sounding racist!). But I felt relieved that it was not as silly as the news that ran into pages, through weeks, about the Indian descent of Sunita Williams! It was amusing to note that the intellectual strata of the Indian society which dismissed Shilpa, as a cunning li’l Bollywood belle, who manipulated the show to her own gain, strained to trace the Indian roots of Ms. Williams to feel proud of the country! She doesn’t qualify to make India proud just because she carried samosas to space. She’s indebted to America for what she is today and since India has not done her any good, we Indians could spare the rhapsodies of praise for her.

Are some of us bitter towards Shilpa because she ‘abused’ her Indianness? Are we tending to be hypocritical because Big Brother is one of those cooked up reality shows that’s too mean for a ‘thinking Indian’ to waste time on? Well, isn’t it equally demeaning to glorify the estranged Indian roots of a successful woman and to unrightfully partake of her fame?

O, Little Town of Bethlehem!

2007-01-06T01:38:00.000-08:00

For a number of years, Christmas meant Santa Clause and Christmas tree to me. We never had plastic Christmas trees at home. Around ten days before The Day, my dad and I would go on our mission to get a nice tree. (My younger siblings tagged along, as usual, but I never considered them important enough to be counted a part of the ‘Team’!). Once we agreed on the right one, from among the many trees which grew by the river bank, a li’l more than a kilometer away from our house, we would bring it home. The three of us (my siblings and I) would then decorate it with all the glittery stuff we could get in the market that year, stars-big and small and all the balloons we could inflate- till the tree looked kinda hideous!!! But then, we’d love it. Particularly, me, because this would be one of those times when I used to feel more powerful than a CEO! I’d boss around as much as I could, and my meek sister and baby brother would listen to me, while they laboured with me, keeping the tree’s best interest in mind! Then, my dad would step in for lighting the tree, and would drop hints as to how our ‘work of art’ could have looked better. Finally, half the balloons would be off the tree and it looked quite presentable!

As I grew older, Christmas meant the ‘season of singing’ to me. We would be busy going for carol practices which began at least a month ahead of Christmas. The cakes and the family get- togethers were the inevitables…The midnight services were never interesting, especially after the choir singing was over. I’d slant onto my mom, and slowly and steadily, drift into a peaceful nap. Till now, I must have heard a handful of Christmas messages, and they were all the same- that Christmas is about God’s love and not Santa Clause or Christmas tree; that it is more important to have Christ born in our hearts, etc and my heart had grown callous to them. They were predictable and boring, and never seemed to speak to me.

But, this Christmas was different...

There was nothing Christmassy about the church service. There were no carols sung except for one. There was no set schedule for that evening's programme. Still, I sat with a couple of my friends, expectant. After the singing was over, the pastor said he had a small message to share. My mind’s eye foresaw a normal Evangelistic speech and felt as if I had nothing to take from there, that night. But, what he said gripped my heart so much that it left me in rapt attention for the rest of the service!

He was talking about the little town of Bethlehem. The little, obscure town of Bethlehem. The lowly town of Bethlehem that was handpicked by God to bring forth His Son! Yes, the chosen town of Bethlehem!

There are times when I wondered why my dad wasn’t a business tycoon, or why I didn’t have blue blood running in my veins…why I couldn’t have been a world famous movie star or a tennis player…not that I regretted that I’m not any of these, but such “What if/ Why not” scenarios brought home the ecstacy of being in a fantasy world!

For the first time, I was excited at the thought of being little, and obscure and lowly…I loved to be in the league of little Bethlehem- few in number, young in age and least in identity. For I knew that though I am little, out of me will come forth the accomplishment of a mighty purpose of God. For I knew that, out of the little Bethlehem, came forth a ruler, and it is the same God who chose Bethlehem, who chose me!!!

Having found a new hope and meaning in Christmas, I walked out of that place singing to myself “O, little town of Bethlehem”, content that He would not let my flesh glory in His presence!!

Teach me How...

2006-12-21T07:36:00.000-08:00

Teach me Lord, How…

To pray, when words fail;
To seek strength and not wail…

To lose the battle with grace;
To look failure in the face…

To shed pride and give in;
To rejoice when others win…

To tell the truth even as it stings;
To kill the fear that clings…

To trust, as the future twirls;
To smile at life’s varied curls…

To give, when I don’t get;
To take the hurt denials beget…

To love the 'unlovable';
To forgive the 'unforgivable'….........

An 'evolved' Indian speaking...

2006-12-11T06:35:00.000-08:00

Elizabeth's spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted Mr. Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her.

"How could you begin?" said she.
"I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?"

"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."

-Pride and Prejudice

In fond memory of Prom Night, TISS, 2005

It shudders me to realise how fast we've evolved into global Indians celebrating Prom Nights and Halloweens and Valentine's...

I don't blame us, or the media which sell such once-upon-a-time-alien concepts so brilliantly well, making them a part of our very culture...

I don't want to join Shiv Sena and wage a bloody war against the 'mindless westernization' our generation has fallen prey to…

I'm not apolegetic...

Nor do I feel enraged in my spirit...

Just that, I wish we showed the same enthusiasm to attend the Flag hoisting ceremony on our Independence Day, the way we did when we were still in school…

I wish we could remember the oft-treaded paths of the past when we choose to walk the road not taken!

That’s not too much to ask, is it?

I love tears!!!

2006-12-08T03:21:00.000-08:00

There was a time when I hated to cry. Even then, tears were something I was never able to resist. I would cry at the drop of a hat! The reason was insignificant- hurt, joy, anger, beauty- anything that moved my heart seemed to excite my tear glands. I thought tears rendered me a ‘delicate darling’ image as that of the female characters in the soap operas, which I don’t have high regard for. Still, all my efforts to look ‘strong’ by not crying were in vain!

Then came a time, when I realized that it is a blessing to be able to cry! By then, I had met a lot of people- some, mere acquaintances and some, close friends- who were not able to cry, even if they wanted to. “How I wish I could cry it all out…tears wouldn’t just come!”, some used to say! That was a phenomenon I could hardly relate to.

And, slowly and steadily, I realized that I had grown selective as to when I shed tears. I wouldn’t cry when I felt helpless; instead I would have a wry smile on my face! When I faced impossible situations, I would rather think how to maneuver through them, than cry in self pity. At times, I would pause in the middle of the mad rush, to see a ‘bold and beautiful’ me, and would say in my heart “Girl, you’ve become tough!” I tried to be unaffected by the misery around me and acted fearless, as I believed that I was conditioned to be strong! But the drama would end in a couple of days- I would succumb to tears on my pillow- far from the madding crowd- and cease to be alien to the real me! That’s when I seek God, and would be vulnerable, only to Him!

Today, I don’t care if I cry…I don’t resist tears anymore…I no longer feel weak when I cry, because I know that Jesus wept, and He was the manliest man ever, to live on this earth!!!

As the nature, God’s workmanship, elicits in me an irresistible awe for my Creator King; As my heart wells up in thanksgiving to Him for His grace that sustains me; As I feel so undeserving for the awesome people in my life; As I am challenged by the selfless act of a friend; As I feel one with the pain of a dear one; As I begin to believe, all over again, in the inherent goodness of man- my eyes glisten with tears, and boy, these tears- they sure look good on me!!!

Funeral versus Feasting!!

2006-12-07T22:59:00.001-08:00

“It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart.” Ecclesiastes 7:2

My father quoted this verse the other day, when I was whining and trying all kinds of tactics not to go for a funeral, early this week. He said that in a light vein, but it struck me with a force that dragged me to the decision to accompany my parents to the funeral of the departed, my grandfather’s sister.

I could recollect only two funerals where I have been to before- my grand parents’. I was in high school when my grand mom passed away, and that was the first time I saw my dad break down. She had fractured her leg and was bed ridden for two years. I remember making good friends with all the home nurses who stayed with us to take care of her. I even used to write to some of them after they left! We used to pray that she’d be able to walk some day, and my dad kept his faith till five minutes before she died. He told us later that, one day, as he came out of her room, he felt as if she deserved something better than this misery on earth. He went straight to his room, and asked God for the first time to take her to Him, and in minutes she was gone!

My grand dad passed away two years later. I had my 10th Board Math exam that day. I went to sleep late the previous day and early next morning, at around 3 o’clock, I heard my mom calling out my name in desperation. I was still half asleep, when I ran to my appachan’s bedroom next to ours. My mom was holding him and he was trying hard to catch his breath. I figured it was a heart attack again (he had survived two massive ones earlier) and in no time I was in my senses. My mom ran to the neighbour (my dad wasn’t in station, then) and I sat on the bed holding him, wondering how I could comfort him, as his face convulsed in pain. The next moment, he fell back onto the bed and I was holding his head in the palm of my left hand, and he gasped thrice for breath… and never moved again…that was death, in front of my eyes! The intellect of the fifteen year old could not discern what had happened. I went for my exam (I couldn’t have missed it!) and stayed at my friend’s for two days (the subsequent days also I had exams) and kept praying hard for him, as I was told that he’s in the I.C.U. Finally, when the news of his death was disclosed to me, with utmost sensitivity, I replayed in my mind how it had happened, and was horrified! I felt a lump in my throat that refused to subside in spite of my swallowing hard!.... I remember his funeral quite vividly…I was in my school uniform (I came straight from the exam hall) and my dad held me as I walked towards my grand father’s body…looking at his ever graceful face, I whispered in my heart, as tears rolled down my cheeks, “I didn’t know you were dying in my arms!”

We sat in solemn silence as we drove down to this funeral. No one spoke and it felt like all of us were lost in our own worlds. The recorder was playing the collection of selected hymns that reminded us of our roots. Hymns are a part of me and so are they for my parents. I doubt if my younger siblings relate to them so much as we do.

When we reached the place, people had started moving to the church. The service wasn’t long…the close relatives were looking sad and some were weeping, while others were busy catching up with each other… I could see a sea of grey heads, and faces I wouldn’t recognize…people were sharing good things about the one who’s no more…I began feeling uncomfortable…I drifted away into my own thoughts…what would people say of me, if I die today?…Even if they would want to say nice things about me, what can they possibly say?…That I had a nice smile? That I was a good friend? That I lived a respectable life?...What would God say?.........

“You were two years old when I saw you last!!”, a very elderly woman was telling my dad! That brought a smile to my face and I was back to the real world.

After all the “It’s been so long since we saw each other!” and “Your daughter has grown so big!” and “So, you are staying at the same place?” and “Remember, when…..” etc, from different people, we started from there. I was thinking then, I came back with enough food for thought than when I came back from a wedding!

In my opinion, funerals mean much more than giving an honorable farewell to the departed. It leaves the attendees enough to munch on and digest before it is time for theirs! (Apart from being a quiet reminder of the inevitability called death that might knock at your door any time!!) Most importantly, it humbles us a great deal- if it doesn’t, nothing else would!

As I melt away…

2006-12-03T06:29:00.000-08:00

I look at you as I have before;

Casually.

Yet this time, I seem to see more of you…

More than what my eyes could reach…

Beyond what the world could see…

I wonder if that was what God saw

When He looked at you;

Gently.

As I melt away…

And the I in me fades away…

I see you the way God sees you…

And I love you the way God loves you;

Unconditionally!

They call me ‘names’!!!

2006-12-03T06:09:00.000-08:00

Sarah, Divya, Diya, Divi, Divs, DJ- different people call me differently!

Well, as per church records, my name is Divya Sarah John. (They say, the child is officially named at the Baptism ceremony, and the name goes down on record for the first time, then!)

I never liked my first name much, the only reason being it was just too common for an uncommon specimen like me! Throughout my school education, I invariably had one or more classmates by the same name (Divya Nair, Divya Joseph, Divya Bhaskar…the list goes on…) One thing that stood different about my name was the Sarah in the middle, which I hated with a passion! The reason for that was quite irrational- I didn’t like the way people pronounced it! Well, one can’t expect to be called “Ms. John”, when one’s born and reared and educated in an obscure town in God’s own country!

In school, they called me “Divya Sarah”, in all premeditation of possible confusion. I wasn’t happy with that either!! It almost sounded like “Divya Sir” pronounced with formidable Mal accent, and the undue ‘respect’ the sound of it brought made me uncomfortable. I personally find the Mal twang we Malayalees give to whatever we talk in- English or Arabic (the second most popular language in Kerala, for obvious reasons) or Hindi, quite remarkable! It gives us quite an identity!

When I reached college (I did my graduation from Chennai), they started callin’ me Sarah, and most of them pronounced it right, and hence I liked it. But lo, there were too many Sarah’s on campus- Sarah John, Sarah Ninan, Sarah Thomas (this list is also as long as the previous one!) and needless to say, they switched to Divya, soon. I continued to be called Divya on my campus in Mumbai too, where I did my post graduation.

On my arrival to Bangalore on my first job, I decided to religiously put down my feet and reiterate to everyone that I prefer being addressed by my middle name. Look up my company ID card and you’d find my call name as Sarah, and you would not even by mistake call me by my first name!

It is funny how I make sound and fury signifying nothing about things which hardly matter! The other day, to my surprise, I told one of my friends when he immediately corrected himself after callin me Divya, “What’s in a name, afterall?!” That got me thinking why I used to be so particular about what people called me. Was it the sense of power that I felt when I seemed to dictate what others should address me as? Was it just childish adamancy that I should feel pleased, at the end of it all? Nevertheless, I know for a matter of fact that I love it when my father calls me ‘Divya’, or when my mother calls me ‘Divi’ or when my special friend calls me ‘Diya’. That’s because, I know that they feel pleased when they call me what they want! At some vulnerable point, I seemed to realize that that’s what counts at the end of the day…so, u r free to call me names- any of these existing ones or newly coined ones, as long as it makes you happy!

Welcome to my world of words!

2006-12-03T06:04:00.000-08:00

To have my own space on blog was something I was interested in, long back. I can’t remember when that thought faded, or rather, was put aside as one of those things that did not require immediate attention or action!

Well, I’m glad I’m finally tryin’ my hand at it, and I must thank Savio for it. I stumbled upon his blog a coupla days ago and thoroughly enjoyed readin’ it, and found myself goin’ thro’ some of my other friends’ blogs, soon after. May be, then, it occurred to me that it’s time that I let my words get wings and fly their flight into a wider horizon!

You are welcome to visit my space and leave your comments, however disheartening or flattering they be, and considering that I’m not quite a writer, I expect a lot of the former!

Thank you!