Woke up one morning, with a memory of a bygone day, a home, the one where I lived when I was very little. Trying to recollect its many features, I drew a blank every step of the way . There is no one now, from the idyllic past of my young childhood, no one with whom I can share those beautiful precious memories, no one to fill in the gaps of lost times, no one to reminisce with, the cherished times of yore. 

The face that was once so dear, fading from our minds, a name that was once quick to our lips, a word that was familiar in its use, all hiding behind the veil of time, turning off like a flickering light going dark sooner than later. The old memories playing hide and seek, sometimes tantalising, like a peekaboo, some falling deep in the crevices of our minds, are difficult to retrieve and, some lost forever, forgotten in the abyss of time.  

Standing in the doorway we look back at the vast expanse of our past but we recognise naught, except for those close to our mind. Casting our eyes beyond, we struggle to see through the obscurity of time, for the memories once loved and cherished, escape us, not affording comfort anymore . And when we look ahead, the future is but a narrow tunnel , with no more room for unceasing dreams, but hurtling through unfamiliarity, to choppy seas, a stormy passage in time. 

Where did they go, the moments we once treasured and turned into memories, to store away for posterity ,to savour in our despair? Where do they hide, when we long to relive them ? Are they in the particles of dust that swirl around, in the peeling paint on the walls, in the dry leaves that we trample beneath our feet, are they the broken pieces of melody that wander into our thoughts, are they the shattered pieces of our dreams, swept away beneath the carpet of our lives.

I then pray, Lord, if you take away our memories, please leave behind the good. Let me always remember the hands that first held me the face that first loved me, the bosom against which I lay as a helpless babe. Let me always remember with love, the woman so resilient, the woman who nurtured, and raised me . Let me never forget the shoulders on which I rode, the strong feet on which I took my first steps , the voice that taught me the first note I sang . Let me always remember with admiration , a man so selfless, who taught me the values of life, to believe in myself .

Let me remember the one who played pranks , who made me laugh, taught me to swing a bat, to throw a ball, a bit of mischief here and a bit there . Let me not forget the little one, who showed me the joy of playing a domesticated game of ‘house’, the one who always let me have my way, taught me that love can conquer all . Let me remember the innocence of my childhood, the happiness I shared with my birth family. Let me remember the first book I read, my first friendship, my first crush , the first stirrings of womanhood, the pride in my first pay cheque.

Let me always remember the fun I had, the joy I felt. Let me never forget my first Christmas tree, the vibrant colours of spring, red gold and green. Let me remember the mornings, glistening with the dew drops, melting quickly with the rising sun. Let me never forget the thrill of the first rainfall cooling the parched earth beneath, and the colourful rainbow suspended above. Let me remember the long summer evenings, the air heavy with the smell of jasmine and jackfruit, listening to grandma’s tales, under the sickle shaped moon, and the shimmering stars.

Oh there is so much to remember, from a past that seems ever so elusive, but like all good things that must end, they dissipate from our minds like mist . Then I pray to my Lord, when all is lost, and my heart’s desires cease, when darkness falls, and the demons attack, let Your rod and staff be my protection. Let your peace like a spring of hope water the wasteland of my life. Lead me through that perilous journey and make smooth the rough patches. Teach me to wait patiently, until that day in Your glorious presence I can rejoice and be reunited with all those who have gone ahead.

Received a message this morning from a cousin, informing the passing of her brother’s mother in law . The turn of phrase used, I found odd – ‘ promoted to Glory ‘ . That surely is a strange way to express someone has passed . I then gave it some thought and realised how apt it was . Are we not being promoted from our lowly station of life on earth to a glorious eternity? 

Thinking about the life of my cousin who is most spiritual, I realised she would definitely portray death as a release from this carnal world to greater joy in eternity. From a very young age she seemed to have a closeness to Jesus that none of us ever had. I don’t know what her aspirations were but when we met during vacations she was always kind, helpful and maybe to some extent, a bit of a bore . 

Being brilliant, she went on to do engineering at REC , far more academically accomplished than her more average cousins like us . On completing her course she came to Bangalore to work at BPL, an opening she got due to the effort of my parents. She of course, gave all glory only to God . Soon after, my uncle decided to get her married . Through their connections they found a groom, good match, an engineer, a priest’s son working in Muscat . 

My cousin moved to Muscat after the marriage and I lost touch with her . Later a child was born and I heard the baby had problems, the child was mentally challenged . My cousin’s life changed drastically, she was fully occupied with nurturing her daughter whose needs were many. Special schooling, special activities, special attention, all of which she gave selflessly . 

Then came the second child, a son who was born perfectly normal but they soon discovered he was autistic.  She was again thrown into the vortex of a special needs child. Sometime during all of this it was learnt that her husband’s family had a genetic disorder of children born with deficiencies, which the priest did not reveal . My cousin now had two children, demanding her time and full devotion . Never once did I hear her complain, instead in all our troubles she was most supportive and encouraging.

During all of this she never once turned away from God her Saviour. There was no bitterness, no resentment against family, no depression. She accepted her life as it were because she believed it was God’s will and she surrendered her circumstances to Him totally. Her faith has only grown and she is a testament of total acceptance of what life has thrown at her, for she believes nothing can go wrong unless it is allowed by God, and if it is allowed by Him, He surely has a reason for it . 

The children are now grown , the daughter in some kind of home during the week for vocational training / work, the son is almost independent and employed. She doesn’t worry about what will become of them, especially after her time, for she knows God’s plans for them are far greater than what she can ever imagine or hope for . And if she doesn’t see His goodness in this world, she is willing to wait to see it in the next .

Sharing today’s Sunday sermon . I woke up this morning and my scripture reading was from Luke ch 5 about the paralysed man who was healed . Surprisingly the scripture reading in church was the same and the sermon based on this incident from the Bible . Have read it often and the only things that registered were the faith of the man , his 4 friends, Jesus’ compassionate forgiveness and healing. 

The focus in the sermon was about the man and the men who brought him there . Who was the paralysed man ? Was he abandoned by family and friends, lying alone in a darkened home with no love, cheer or joy but only suffering ? And who were the four friends, maybe just random acquaintances who knew about his condition and came together to help ?  Men who kept aside their priorities to fight the crowds and bring him to Jesus for healing ?

The priest went on to narrate Abdul Kalams’s experience at a sports event for mentally challenged children. During the running race, they all set off together, no one vying for first place but with a goal to finish the race together. When one of them fell and was left behind, they stopped as one and went back to pick him up and bring him with them to the finish line . 

The teaching being that we should collectively uplift those amongst us who have fallen on hard times . So this Lenten, let us pray to be like one of the four friends who carried the paralysed man, let our goal be to bring those who are lagging, to the finish line . 

The Canaanite woman’s faith in Jesus 23 rd March 

The gospel reading today was Mathew 15:21-28, about the Canaanite woman, a gentile woman’s faith in Jesus, a faith so strong, that she did not give up until He acknowledged her persistent, tenacious faith and healed her daughter. 

Many of us have situations, turning us to God in prayer, especially for our children. Our faith should be unwavering, unstoppable even in the face of opposition and adversities. Praying constantly, not letting go, until we receive God’s favour for our children.

Sitting there, watching the young mothers, watching the old mothers, some praying earnestly, some seeking out their little children in the crowd, I realised, each of us is there to worship and ask God for His grace, especially on our hapless children . We bring our children those who comply, to church for God’s blessings and hope He will cover those not there, beneath the shadow of His wings .

Healing on the sabbath 30 th March .

Gospel Reading for today was Luke ch 13:10-17. A woman who was crippled by a spirit for 18 years, though bent and unable to straighten, still found faith and strength to visit a Sabbath meeting at the Synagogue where Jesus was teaching. She did not loudly pray or implore but still He saw and with compassion, touched her and healed her .

An amazing miracle for the woman and the people who witnessed it, except for the synagogue leader and teachers of the law who objected to any kind of work on the sabbath, even healing the sick . Jesus asked, what then of your work untying your animals from the stalls, to lead them to water, how much more then is this daughter of Abraham, who has to be freed from pain kept prisoned by satan for 18 years .

The previous Sunday we saw the Canaanite woman’s faith, her cry for mercy, above the din of those around her, above the demand of those who tried to quiet her, her persistence resulting in Jesus healing her daughter. Now we see another suffering woman, not crying out loud but just being there, to listen the Lord and His teachings. She was not there for the healing but to listen to His teachings. But the Lord saw her and in His compassion, healed her .

And then I learnt, it is not required to always pray aloud,it is sufficient to be in the presence of my Lord. Even if I am suffering, in agony, even if I do not see the light in my darkest moments, even if I do not know how to express my fears and anxieties, or cry out to Him, He will still see me, He will see my pain and heal my very being .

A friend from  my bible study group called to inform that I needed to prepare for an upcoming session of praise and worship, with a testimony based on my learning from the study of Isaiah chapters 1-28 . Not having attended many classes there was not much I could contribute. All I remembered is that it was the prophecy of judgement, condemnation and restoration, first few chapters targeted at the enemies of Israel and then against Israel & Judah . 

Wondering what I could speak about, there came to mind my experience of a few days ago. The married women in South India,wear a symbol of their martial status called the thali or the minnu,  a consecrated pendant which the groom ties around the bride’s neck, during the wedding ceremony. It comes in various shapes, has much significance and  amongst the Christians it is a tiny pendant with a Cross mounted on it. 

Yesterday, I suddenly noticed my minnu was missing from my chain around my neck. The chain was intact the clasp firmly closed and yet the minnu was missing . The first emotion was disbelief, then came fear, followed by a disquiet that settled in, at this mysterious disappearance of this treasured pendant of much significance. Was it an ill omen, a sign of some impending danger to my family or me, did it spell disaster for my marriage of 37 years ? 

Then began the frantic search to retrieve the pendant, to restore stability to my disturbed state of mind. I thought, if only I can find it, even the broken pieces, my family and my life would continue to remain safe and secure. Troubled by the thoughts of what could be the meaning of this strange occurrence, I spent a sleepless night . In the morning, our last study of Isaiah ch 28 verse 16 came to mind, reminding that my faith and trust should be in Jesus our foundation and not blessed amulets or totems . 

Why was I so obsessed with finding the consecrated pendant, which no doubt had great sentimental value but can offer me no protection as so clearly described in Isaiah 28:20 ? Why had I been in such despair, when all I had to do was turn to the God Who consecrated the pendant, Who blessed my marriage, gave me a family and brought us thus far? Surely I need not rest my faith in religious rituals and attach great meaning to worldly beliefs, nor look for assurance in the created things, but rely on my Creator. 

Once this dawned on me, quickly on its heels, came the verse of hope and restoration from Isaiah 1:18. My God has promised to forgive my sins, if I repent and return to Him and He will never leave me nor forsake me as long as I hold on to Him . In this knowledge I will rest through the thick and thin of my life . 

Woke up in the morning, to the sound of crashing waves, full of eagerness to start the day, by witnessing another sunrise on the beach . Rushing through my basic ablations, I did not remember it was my birthday, until I saw the first greeting on the ever present WhatsApp. 

To catch the sunrise seemed to grow in significance, as I dashed to the beach, for to watch it rise would be the same as a new beginning. I was out of the door on an adrenaline rush, my dog not far ahead and my husband trailing behind. We reached the beach at the appointed time, but the rising sun was still hidden, below the cloudy red tinged horizon. 

Walking along the beach, watching the sea gulls swooping down for an early catch, listening to the  rhythm of the white foamed waves, as they came in to embrace me awhile, my heart was overflowing with gratitude for God’s amazing grace . The sun did not disappoint me, for he soon peeped above the horizon, the red tint turning into a round ball of fire . 

His golden rays like fingers of light crept out, extending above the cloud, and everything it touched was soon bathed in a golden light . It was as if in the darkness of the night, he was renewed and rose mightier , with a stronger light . The waves danced in delight, their tips whiter than before, their swell higher and their splash further, welcoming the rising sun , and the birds sang with joy, as they flew around in his renewed brightness. 

Bathed  in the warm glow of the sun, I felt light at heart as the darkness dissipated, cleansed from all negativity, this here on my birthday. Feeling like a new person. freshly minted, my troubles seemed so far away, my worries not here to stay, and with each new caress of the waves, I felt renewed in strength and vitality.  

I know problems will not disappear , but with a change in perspective I can deal with life’s challenges with a renewal of my spirit . I have learnt that, leaning not on my strength but on God the Creator of heaven and earth, I can soar high on the wings of eagles, above the worst of my circumstances. So with love and gratitude, I thank each one of you, for your blessing and birthday wishes today.

The winds of change waft around us permeating  our lives and homes, moving stealthily, bringing constant change, sometimes noticeable, sometimes inconspicuous , sometimes taking us quite by surprise, but always stealing our familiarity, bringing about unfamiliarity, and uncertainty. At times a welcome change at times a hurdle to face, but a new way of life it brings, certainly. 

Each day we wake up not knowing what  is in store for us. Be it a warm sunny day or a blustery rainy day , will it be a day filled with warmth, love and laughter or filled with anxiety, worry and disappointment ? Yesterday is gone and with it all it’s joy and sadness, tomorrow may or may not come, but we still hope ardently, for all good things, and dream of better times ahead . 

Every moment leaves , closing doors that never can be opened again, moments that cannot be revisited, to alter to correct or reshape. We leave behind our past, propelled forward through changing times, and walk into the unknown with concern and eagerness. The battles of yesterday, may be the same today, but the means and skills we adopt to overcome, will be the difference, the change. 

Our family is the same, our home is the same, our circumstances are the same, and yet we are filled with renewed hope, at new beginnings. At the end of each year, after the unceasing celebrations, we hang up our dancing shoes and welcome the dawn of another new year. With poignant sadness, we reflect on our past  and greet the new year with mixed feelings of joy and apprehension . 

We cherish the history of our past and romanticise the bygone days, erasing the memories of hardships faced. We look forward to the mystery of the future with concern and anticipation. Notwithstanding the passing of time, the unpredictability of what lies ahead, we make new goals with lofty expectations, and ambitious plans with unreserved hope for a future that may not be ours . 

One moment to the next we live as creatures of habit, chasing our dreams, our jumbled lives, at the hands of a fickle fate that most often than not, thwarts our well laid plans, and allows not our goals to be achieved. Inspite of our failures, inspite of the steadily flowing time, we live with renewed hope at the dawn of each new day which we know will end, quickly, bringing to a close another day . 

Each moment that goes by, leaves behind an emptiness, a vacuum that is quickly filled with the next . Maybe a treasured moment, maybe a moment of despair, but even in our darkest hour we can be sure of its passing quickly , making way for new moments of light and peace. Everyday that goes by, we learn nothing is permanent or here to stay , and we draw closer to the end, with each new season. 

So we tend to live, in constant changing times, one moment to the next, through joys and sorrows,through ups and downs, until our time here ends. We are here a while and then gone, leaving behind an emptiness till it is filled, thoughts of us fading , and we remain just a wrinkle in the memory of those living on, an insignificant grain in the sands of time. 

Her voice is the first you hear as you enter into this world. Her crooning lullaby, lulls your fears as you slip into angelic dreams, her voice filled with laughter, brings the first smile to your lips, her voice stills your restlessness, erases all discomfort, as you settle down to rest.  Yet you hear her voice crying in a wilderness of pain as she seeks relief, in her affliction. 

Her voice I hear, as a sister to her siblings, considerate and  kind hearted. Her voice I hear, as a lover, warm and tender, her voice I hear as a friend, solicitous and ready to lend a hand, her voice I hear as a pleasing member of the community , quick to serve others.  Then I hear her voice, weeping in despair, as she drowns in oppression. 

Her voice I hear as a doctor, a nurse tending to the sick, her voice I hear powerful, controlling million dollar enterprises , her voice I hear melodious and mellifluous, singing, entertaining audiences across the world, her voice I hear strong and fearless, advocating the law, fighting for equality and then I hear her voice weak and timid as she struggles against her discrimination. 

Her voice I hear calling out for love, raised against  tyranny and despotism, against abuse and persecution, her voice just a whimper, straining to be heard above the suppression.I hear her vulnerable voice , seeking  retribution against atrocities committed, fighting for her unfortunate sisters, abused ,cast aside, her fading voice whispering, keeping alive the memories of those trampled to the ground . 

So when will we hear that voice, when will we see the struggle cease ? When will we save our girls, who have lost their voice ? When will we see the dawn of a new day and hear that voice, above a whisper ? For until then, we are all in the same oppressive darkness, we will all remain unheard. Let’s make a start to right the wrong of age old beliefs and customs, let’s strive to hear the weaker, neglected voice .

After the splendid 3 nights in Pondicherry, the three friends returned to their separate homes, and to what awaited them . They cared not though, for rejuvenated they felt, ready to take on the challenges that life held for each . 

Their minds playing again and again,from the start to the finish, the trip they had just completed. It was in September, that the thought took seed, a weekend away with classmates, to a beach resort not far from home . 

There were no takers except for three, who set out to plan, in the hope that more would join eventually. But the number remained three, and most were sure, we would not go ahead. But undeterred, ‘go’ we did and it will be a memory to hold close till the very end. A noteworthy point , the three from different backgrounds, from different life styles and religions, finding a common ground on this their adventure. 

On a Thursday morning we set out by road, the three stooges, with a hired driver. We started out, not so early as  there was no where to be in a hurry. The congestion on the road didn’t bother us, the dust didn’t trouble us for we were on a holiday and nothing could detract from the excitement of leaving behind our dreary and monotonous daily routine, and the anticipation of the vacation ahead . With each mile, we went further from our ordinary , closer to the extraordinary, that awaited us . 

There were many pictures taken, at the start and every turn . Once we left Bangalore, the roads were no longer clogged and the ride was smooth, through verdant green scenery through rocky hillocks, and the only passersby we met, were the monkeys that waved us through. The sky though cloudy, held up and there was no rain . Not stopping for lunch or tea, we drove on to Pondicherry, until we reached  .

Our first halt was at a cafe, and after a snack, we checked into our hotel . Leaving quickly thereafter , as we did not want to lose any time, off we went to the beach . The experience of walking the promenade, the wind in our hair, the cool breeze on our, the sound of rolling waves, rushing in to tarry awhile, then quickly receding when they met rocky ground, the moon that hung low guided by the bright north star. 

The tourists were everywhere, their chatter in strange languages, a reminder they were far from home . The twinkling lights of the eateries that lined the waterfront, advertising their delicacies were oh so inviting and hard to resist. The picturesque walk down promenade road, in perfect companionship, will remain inscribed in our minds, and etched in our hearts, for a lifetime.  

After dinner at a fine dining restaurant, we turned in for the night, though it was young .  Being weary from the road trip and with nothing much to do , we went to bed and woke up late next morning . Needless to add, our plan to rise early to watch the sunrise, fell through. But galvanised by restful sleep and a healthy breakfast, we set out to see the sights. Taking in the meditation centre, shopping for chocolates and cookies, an evening boat ride through the mangrove, to the remains of the ancient Arikamedu fort,  the day went by quickly. 

Evening saw us setting out for dinner, to a popular destination, the Coromandel restaurant. Indulging in their sea food gastronomy, we returned to sleep like babies, another night . Determined not to miss the sunrise again, we were up bright and early the next morning. Donning our skimpy attire, purchased for just this purpose, we were at the beach to enjoy the sunrise and the waves that washed over our feet.

The sea air worked up an appetite in us and we found the much recommended Surgutu restraunt for a breakfast fit even for the most discernible palate . Once breakfast was done, there was not much to do but to rest awhile before stepping out for some shopping. Looking at handbags, and street wares , embroidered sheets, and patisseries at the bakery, we spent the afternoon. 

Our next stop before the evening was the ashram, the samadhi, where we had to enter bare feet and maintain total silence. Our final stop was Paradise beach, to view the sunset, the stunning pink skies, slowly turning dark with the setting sun. Too soon the sun went down, a sad moment it was, as we bid farewell to the sea and sand , farewell to the last night of our brief freedom from the mundane that we had left behind. 

Dinner at a well known restaurant, quickly raised our spirits and we made the most of the night. Breakfast next morning was simple and we started out early as we were packed and ready. The journey back was less cheerful, until we reached Ambur for the famous Star Biryani . Needless to say, we had a scrumptious lunch and settled to enjoy the ride back home . 

It was a holiday, too brief yet just right , a long weekend away from home, trying to rediscover our childhood. Baring our hearts to each other, tracing back to where we left our dreams behind . As we encouraged one another, we were certain we could cast away our fears, reclaim our dreams, and weave new ones. Above all, we discovered within us, the precious childlike innocence we thought was lost, to enjoy the smallest of adventures. 

Enlightenment, a state of mind much sought after by man, from the beginning of time. Searching for the elusive truth, turning into a righteous being, to move from darkness to breathtaking light, to become one with the supreme source of life, that which reveals the beauty within, that which enriches the soul with positive forces and subdues the negative . 

Enlightenment can be to some, the strength wielded, the success achieved, the cleverness employed to outsmart adversaries. To some, it is the knowledge to amass wealth, to master the special skills available, to overcome challenges. To others, it is the power to resist aggression, to remain calm ,in the face of every trial. 

Enlightenment may be, the peace we enjoy, the empathy we have, to perceive the needs of others. To cry with those who are sad, to rejoice with those who are happy, to embrace those who are scorned, and fulfill the needs of the least of our brothers. It could be, the practice of impartiality, to be just , to mediate fairly in any skirmish, or walk away to maintain equanimity, without taking sides . 

Enlightenment can be the practice of patience, never to react to any situation in haste, never to take an act of  kindness for granted.  It could be the ability to encourage those who are struggling, to dissuade those stepping the path of destruction. It may be the practice of humility, to maintain amity, to accede to your opponent, even when they are wrong, or to accord victory to the one least deserving, for the sake of tranquility . 

As we seek enlightenment earnestly , the truth eludes us . Is it the knowledge of our purpose in this world ? Is it the ability to love unconditionally, to sacrifice self for the good of others , the ability to acknowledge, even the smallest being is greater than us? Is it to be able to forgive those who wrong us, to forgive self of unworthy actions ? Is it self denial and meditation on lofty mountains, in total isolation?

Grappling with these many thoughts I realise the answer is quite simple, lies before us in all its entirety. Enlightenment is nothing but the acceptance of our life as a gift and our circumstances as the will of God, to live experiencing both pleasure and pain, with gratitude in our hearts . Enlightenment can come to us only by living in the presence of the Light, the Almighty, diminishing self, exalting God, thus finding the peace that surpasses all else, in this world .

Once I was a sister, to a little girl oh so lovely ! She was the brightest star in our lives, filling our home with love and laughter. Always caring, she put not her needs first, but tended to that of others. Never a harsh word passed her lips, whatever the provocation, never she did lose her patience, even in the face of the worst aggravation. Once I was a sister to an angel who walked the earth awhile , until the gods turned jealous, and took away the light of our lives . 

Once I was a daughter, to a doting father , a fine man with integrity, who worked selflessly for the welfare of his family. A father who saw, only the finest in me, as he did in everyone. A father who never lost his faith in his darling daughter, even when she failed and fell far short of expectation. A father who with pride recounted even my small accomplishments, to any who stopped to listen. Once I was a daughter to a father who never saw, beyond his love for his children, until the day he was called to heaven, much too quickly.

Once I was a daughter, to a mother who was strong yet gentle, a mother who taught her children especially her daughters , to be fearless and self sufficient, to stand up for our rights, and never to buckle under oppression . A mother who pursued her career, without compromising her home, proving to us, that the one need not be sacrificed, for the other. Once I was a daughter to a mother who was kind and gracious to all, a mother who taught us the power of prayer and a spiritual life. A mother who was the mainstay of my existence , until that wretched day, she was snatched away from this world. 

Once I was a little sister to a brother, one most  considerate, and never tyrannical. Ready to lend a hand to all, he bore no ill will to any who crossed him, but walked away with dignity from conflicts, to maintain peace. Once I was a little sister to a brother who was dealt a hard hand by life, and though hurt and rejected by the ones he loved the most, he never did resent or lose faith in people. Comfort he seldom sought, complain he never did, to spare us heartache and agony . Then one day came the grim reaper, to claim his life along with that of others, and I was left alone, orphaned.

Now I live, with a remanent of each of them, a part they left behind, the memory of a life that was, and my consolation is their recognisable traits in me. I am now a wife to a husband, who is loving and understanding, helping me in all my endeavours, except those hare brained ones . Am a mother to two wonderful children, who are no less dutiful, and for now, I am the centre of their being . My faults they overlook, my shortcomings they tolerate amiably. My fervent prayer each day is , Lord, let me remain a loyal wife to my husband, a caring mother to my children, until my dying day .