My theories on Romance - one gripe

I have quite a few theories and this is just one gripe. Hehe... as you would expect! I don't quite like the expression 'falling in love' in that it seems to signify spatio-temporal dimensions I don't want to relate to that feeling. But there's nothing quite like it in that it refers to an experience that is nowhere near matched by the ideas conveyed by 'attracted' or 'liking', much less, to me at least, those associated with going out or seeing someone or being boyfriend and girlfriend. Tommy Tenney wrote that God wasn't looking for a girlfriend that he could date, he wanted a love who would prepare to be his bride. That is the relationship we try to mirror in our relationships here on the planet as we know it.

One of my questions is this - surely it is not one of the ten commandments? 'Thou shalt not be unmarried?' Many Christians seem to find it incomprehensible that a girl might not seek marriage pro-actively. Yes, I said it - I am a girl, and I am not seeking it pro-actively. Not because I am afraid or abnormal! But because I do not see a way of logically concluding that that is God's desire for everyone. Many times the Bible says the opposite - that it is not. Possibly because in that day and this, there were several well-meaning persons who came up to singles and told them off for not letting themselves get married. Trust me - I am not pro-actively against it either. And trust me - if the right guy happened, I don't think I could stop it if I tried. But that's just it - I stubbornly (for now ;O!) refuse to try. God does the match-making, I believe. And being Indian, I must add this clause - He does the matchmaking whoever He chooses to use. This has recently been very frustrating to me. But if it's frustrating to me, when all I am faced with are teasing jokes and advice to start thinking about it, then it must be scream-worthy to some of my older friends who have complained that that is all some people can think about conversing about with them. Being single is not equal to being an object of pity and commiseration, neither is it equal to being in adversity while everyone advises you to get out of it. If you're married, you were single at some point too? And God chose to bring you into the world and keep you single until a decent age - for a good reason.

What I do not understand is how married people don't get that if they had to choose between a person God did not intend for them, a person who's not their spouse now and being single, how the heck would they have even given it a second thought???!!! Either there is God's perfect will or there isn't - it's the deal with perfection. I've said this before - this does not mean you look for perfection in the person you're marrying. If that were the case, then I know now without having to wait for an answer, that that is not going to be me. So you don't decide to get married and then look for the guy. (Again it might sound like it, but I am not against arranged marriages. I am entirely for!) You only want marriage when something happens to change your present state. Either you fall in loe with someone - hard ;) - or God tells you different.

So I do't get why people want to make the lives of my friends who are in their late twenties harder. Or why they want to annoy the sanity out of me with their insistence of rightness. It is an India thin - and I am not sure how one deals with the nonsense!

I'm special

Me. Just me. I'm special!!!!! G-a-h.

Even in the most innocuous of situations, I have the uncanny ability to find a way to embarrass myself... It's a gift.

So we're all sat in this family gathering as is frequent this time of year, and my chitthappa whom I haven't seen for ages is visiting from the US of A. We were all glad to see him, and I was glad I'd made it to see him too. At least one part of this family winter migration I have managed not to miss. Ever since he went there, there's been a slight improvement in English I must say, because he probably has had to use it more intelligibly to people who are not used to our endearing errr nuances... We are Tamil. We seem to have a tendency to mix our ahs and aws. Well, a good number of us do at least. We also drop our aitches in the best British traditions since the East India Company saw the light of day. My uncle was vehemently denouncing this virus that had got into his software. All because someone stupidly gave the computer to some unlicensed bloke. So in answer to queries, and in emphasis, he repeated the name of this virus. And I was intrigued... I mean, I'd never heard a virus called that, it sounded quite racially derogatory. And my uncle seemed to emphasise the second word too! It was called - The White Horse virus.

And I said aloud what I'd heard to check. "White er arse virus???"

My mum and cousin laughed mercilessly. The rest of the family just ignoooooooooored me with what was left of all our collective dignity.



Well, I'll try not to be an ass next time, but thanks for listening.

Bridge

Hola mis amigos, tiempo sin verte!! I have missed my space and reverted to it occasionally in memory but never enough to long to sit down and hammer away...

I'm glad I'm back though, even though I didn't always know I was missing it. And hey, it hasn't been that long really on the surface. Just about three weeks or so. Not quite the 400 silent years, but hey my point exactly - who says they were silent, eh? So much (oh, you have no idea) has been going down, I'm rather lost as to where to start.

But I can start there. Trust me, it won't take long for my philosophising drivel to begin ;).

So in the gap I've been on a few learning curves and loved them. I was sitting in my room one day - well submerged under duvets, pillows and blankets and the warmth (okay, don't hit me) of a companionable laptop - and trying to break through... something, I didn't know what. I didn't even know I wanted to break through until that point, I think. What can I say? I'm strange! And it was quite clear: It is a dangerous distance when you don't know you're far. Distance can be deceptive and when you're furthest is probably when you can't gauge it! Scary thought. So usually I'm a God-break-the-barriers-I-want-to-get-there kind of person. But here I was thinking Ah well, love'll take care of itself. We can't be far from home anyway.

I'm glad I was found.

Con todo mi carino

P

Just because

You are beautiful and I can do it.

In Love

Apologies however for my own clumsiness in presenting this fantasticity of grace (if you're new to my rambling, I allow myself to invent words...). If you found my last rather melodramatic, that was just me trying in my special clumsy fashion to get my point across. I meant it. The point is this - God loves. Yes, it is covenant love; yes, He asks us to respond. But none of that changes the fact this way or that - God loves. Not even the fact that God judges can change the fact that God loves.

And I am still being blown away by the fantasticity of grace... Sometimes it would seem as if God says to me: Do you love me? Then act like it.

I am rubbish at being in love, I suspect. And I use 'in love' warily. I must also be rubbish at loving. I act sometimes like a complete ass - a kiss at the door, one in the evening and no remembrance of love inbetween. Does God get used to hurt? Perhaps, but I doubt it. Whatever the answer, I'm willing to bet it still hurts.

So we were standing together in my little church belting out our love for the Lord. I have meant it, I do. But this Sunday, I just stood there half-grateful I knew enough to ask if I could be allowed to not lead tonight and just sit back in the meeting. And I was more than half-miserable knowing that I couldn't say I loved Him with all my heart and mind, knowing that I would love to be able to promise it with all the others who were smiling so gorgeously. But hating myself because at some level I was holding back (and I knew it) because I was afraid of hurting Him - again.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me - I don't have to go seeking after those highly desirable things... They follow me - can I whoop with joy now? Because as I stood there longing to be able to allow myself to sing that line, God spoke. And changed my life - again.

No Apologies

It's fantastic how God says in Jeremiah 3 to the backslider - 'Return and I will cure you of backsliding'!

It's not a mewling lover mourning loudly and Orsino-like about the love that has left him. No, it's not even an enraged husband staking all his glory and dignity on the wife who is unfaithful. It's not like a boss who suddenly clutches the last straw within his reach to save face - 'You can't quit! I fire you.' God is not mocked. And God is not dependent on anyone or anything. Neither is his love. It's not a you-love-me-I'll-love-you-back deal. It's not trashy or mushy or, in any way, weak. This is the kind of love that is stronger than death. I always used to wonder at the comparison - I mean why would you call death strong anyway, given the resurrection and the fact that we believe we're heading somewhere? But it's unavoidable, isn't it? This human death that is certain. The one thing that is surer is this kind of love. That, I guess, is why grace is amazing.

So my mind has just been blown away by that verse. And I'm glad of it. It's a love that God describes in so much passionate detail in the preceding verses. It sounds like he's crying, but he's not complaining. Sorrow but not shame. Remonstrance but not revulsion. Nothing can change it, he says. The only thing we can do is accept it - well, also reject it, but never change it. It makes me feel horribly helpless sometimes, and horribly ungrateful. And then I realise that he's actually doing it for himself as much as for me!! He just enjoys loving us and revels in extending mercy. He died just so he could have us and be with us. There is a heart full of sorrow and hurt, but the generosity remains. The vastness of a heart that is him - "though we are faithless, yet he remains faithful". Grace gives no apologies.

The Breaker-Down

Sometimes tongues are like a glass of cold water after your morning jog! When you're stuck because you can't say what went wrong and what came right, and you don't know where you want to be or go but you know you must leave this place you are in... Or when you're simply floored by being in love and wonder and peace...

Habit is a hard thing to break, especially the habit of thought for me... But God goes before you to break down and destroy what stands in His way.

I have just rediscovered Isaiah 45: 1-3 and I love it.

1 "This is what the LORD says to his anointed,
to Cyrus, whose right hand I take hold of
to subdue nations before him
and to strip kings of their armor,
to open doors before him
so that gates will not be shut:

2 I will go before you
and will level the mountains [a] ;
I will break down gates of bronze
and cut through bars of iron.

3 I will give you the treasures of darkness,
riches stored in secret places,
so that you may know that I am the LORD,
the God of Israel, who summons you by name.

I've got you covered

I am here in this place, with tears and smiles beyond my juggling skills. I want somewhere I can go and unburden myself - and you are here. Ready to take it on. I cannot be oblivious to that. Whenever I need you, you are here. Even when I don't see that I need you, you see it. You know me better than I know myself. This love shapes my world. It changes it. Redefines my need for love - you're not just everything I need, my need becomes you, more and more every day.

Because of you, I can smile. Actually because of you, I can cry too because I know you will see. Because of you, because of you. Lux lucis in obscurum.

And when I fall, I'm in your arms and it's the best place of all. And when I am nervous and jittery about whether the track will bear up under me, I can hear you whisper 'It's all right, I've got you covered.' The best thing I have heard all week - 'I've got you covered.' Thank you because when you walk beside me I know I can count on that familiar pressure under my arm when I stumble. Thank you because this is a forever kind of love.

Lux Lucis in Obscurum

In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day. - F Scott Fitzgerald.

Have you ever been there? When every moment you think morning might come faster, that this waiting might be over - and every time you think it you are reminded of the waiting in an inexorably ticking but never moving time-warp.

And you are desperate to leave, to forget. And you claw your way through a brick wall, soot covering the sides, your arms aching and heedless of the thin, sticky tracks of blood down them. Your nails are split and your hair is ragged. Scratch marks on your face and a dryness in your throat and eyes. No tears left. Check - none at all. Just a fear that you know you're ignoring. Hurriedly you put away the demented knowledge.

This night will end.

There is a space between the fear of hope and the fear of hopelessness. If you give up now, you will begin to think about it. And it lies there like an undisposed-of corpse reminding you of a guilt not undertaken. Is this the end of sanity?

You are desperate to forget, and in your desperation you cannot think of anything else.

Until someone... unthinkingly, insensitively, abrasively reminds you, confronts it, smiles at it cluelessly. Idiotically. What do they have on this relentless darkness? They will never know it.

But the tears fall. And in the dark, your watch says it is ten past three.

This is the day

Jesus, I am so thankful for you, and I love you so much. Because you make me smile whenever. Because I have you.

Where I come from

I am always not quite sure what people are expecting when they ask me how I was saved. My testimony is dramatic in that all testimonies are - you're born again, how much more life-changing can it get. I am radically saved. But story-wise - I don't know. You decide. There is not much of a plot, climax and denouement. But God requires us to testify of His love (love that song!), so I'm going to do it here. Because although I've blogged for some time now, I've never properly introduced myself!

When I was 10, I must have been a bit of a pain. Telling my testimony to a worker at church this morning made me realise - I definitely had some attitude problems back then! I'm sure I still have a few :( My dad was first in our family. My mum was always the one who read more, and consequently read the Bible more... But I think appa was the first to realise there was something more to being saved. That God meant what He said about no one coming to the Father except through Jesus, and about being born again. So as my father was beginning to get more interested in a personal relationship, he started to play these tapes and CDs over and over and over again. This would eventually result in my mum or me walking out of the room at some point. Moreover, my father also looked disapprovingly on our telly interests which did not help. Still does not make sense. But eventually he and our neighbours convinced us to go to this evangelistic prayer meeting - big event in the city, lakhs of people arriving from different parts of the state and neighbouring cities, must go. So we did. The evangelist is still a very popular, though sometimes controversial personality!

When we were there, I was very impressed with the message and with some parts of the worship. I was a sceptical 10 as to worshipping God openly or personally so when the person onstage asked us to allow the Spirit to minister and lift our hands if we felt like it and just feel free, I opened one eye to see what my mother was doing! I felt like I wanted to lift my hands and say this prayer that he was saying as I did feel a gentle breeze just after the man prophesied that we would. But I was not sure how cool that was going to be - so I peeked. My mother was lifting her hand(s) in prayer - it was the first time I'd ever seen her do it. I have always been very influenced by my mum and then my dad. So I was intrigued. I didn't open my eyes after that but I prayed and I welcomed the Holy Spirit. And minutes before the preacher had said some of us would feel a gentle rain - I did! I thought that was brilliant. I was only little so I had no trouble believing God could and would make the weather obey Him. Jesus in the storm had always been my favourite story.

I am not being denominational at all. But that God and I could have a working relationship did not actually dawn on me before that time.

Not everyone felt the tiny drops but everyone felt the thunderstorm in an hour! The people had dispersed and everyone was walking home, when the rain poured. It was unexpected and since the meeting was on the beach, it was quite cold. They were going to remove my tonsils because it was pretty bad. Lol, I couldn't leave anywhere without carrying my mother's dupatta (a shawl about half the size of a sari) - and needless to say, I was facing major fashion crises. Unbeknownst to me, our neighbours were walking behind us and telling each other I was going to be healed. Our home was about ten miles away and we only had a motor bike. When we went to my aunt's house, she was out and her flat was flooded! So we borrowed a towel from her neighbour to dry my hair. And then we set off home on the bike. I was very wet and my parents were worried by this time.

We took one of the preacher's books home with us. I read that book for the next month. I still hadn't asked Jesus into my heart. I don't think I did that in conscious rebellion though. About a week or two later, my mother asked me if I realised I hadn't sneezed once since. I hadn't thought about it. She told me I was healed and I said 'Yeah, I am!' and replied at once that I was indeed ready for an ice-cream :D. It was probably quite a minor thing but hey, I was excited... :D

The healing and the saving happened in my life simultaneously I think, looking back at it. But the latter took a bit longer to materialise perhaps. And I get weepy every time I think about it ;D!

By the end of the book was a prayer for salvation. I said it. I believe it was the 5th of June '95. I asked Jesus into my life and told Him I wanted him to be a real part of it. I also promised him that I would be there at a certain time every day, just to spend time with him. Today's blog is part of that time! Gave my life to God and surrendered to the working of His Spirit. It's the best thing I have ever done in my life because today I can't imagine living without him. In fact, I don't think that's possible. I'm still completely in love with the God who's turned my life around!

Hotchpotch

Well, I still have too much to blog about to really blog about what I want to blog about - does that make sense? Do I ever?

It is Sunday morning and I am feeling blessed and slightly over-rested! Will go to RoL but also visit SE, although I might be a bit late. RoL is home but the students are at different churches and I'm still waiting on God for that one.

If you read my spiel about 'Facades, Inadequacy...' you'd be expecting a certain tone to my blog today. If you haven't, don't even think about it! I am very happy to be here, and I said that. But I may have sounded like I didn't mean it. I did though. I am where God wants me to be - and that's just perfect. It was just that I had noticed a few attitudes that I was ranting off about. EW wrote to me and said he thought maybe attitudes at OU had changed since his day. But that wasn't very long ago considering he also stayed and taught here for aeons! But I have met some of the loveliest people, and not just at Bible House... It's just that, having lost my luggage and staying at Marston way off from the city centre and Uni and all that, I guess it took a bit longer for me to meet... errrr... 'the race that knows Joseph' ;D. And while you do meet posh f-s, b-b's, some of them are great to talk to! And you meet all sorts anyway, like in any other place.

Let me illustrate:

So I ask directions from someone somewhere around Marston, as I am, not unusually, rather lost! And they are a bit UNwarm and unsmiling about this street I'm asking after. As if to say, 'I have no idea where students exist and have no desire to... the vermin!'... Lol. Then, I mention College upon which said someone snaps to attention... I get directions pronto! It suddenly dawns on me that they have assumed I'm at OB.

A few days later, I laughingly relate this to someone else who goes to the same college as I do. And their reaction? 'Well, I think it was really rude of them to assume you were from B right away, don't you??!' And I'm going... errr. Well, I think it was rude of them not to be nice in the first place - even if I didn't go to Uni at all. To be fair when I mentioned this take on the thing to her - she was impressed and said 'Well, now that we know where it is, we can make that difference.' Gah, however, gah!

I have all the proper respect for OU, and for higher education and everything else. I mean I was involved with all the events they had promoting it for local schools et al constantly like I had no research to do in the previous place! And I love the beauty of O and the grandeur of OU and its history. But people are people, and they deserve respect... at least at first, hehe. Innocent until proven guilty and bleh! No seriously though...

The CU has been great. More active than a few others I've known. And the president of it blogs (about it) here. Made quite a few friends. They have some fantastic clubs and societies at the University. Joined in quite a few. Volunteer work most of it - and I am pretty sure I cannot do all of it. But some of it is brilliant - and it's working with kids and I miss the old ones so much, I'm glad to find more near where I am. A lot of music going around too - and although I will probably mortally embarrass myself if I attempt to read music, I've signed up. Should have kept up with it. And whaddya know! Signed up for rowing - can you believe it? Well, actually I am generally consistently crazy. But lookign forward to it.

I also have this very annoying inability to say NO. Simple monosyllabic skill that eludes me. Which is why Freshers' Fair found me in the middle of a face-off between pro-animal-testing and anti-it. And found me smiling and nodding and taking leaflets from both!! Ah sometimes it is convenient to pretend you don't speak English very well!!

Humph. Want to blog loads and yet there's nothing specific to say... Watch this space.

Facades, Inadequacy and a kitchen table conversation

I'm in this place with people I completely sympathise with and am ready to love entirely. So are they. And I am part of another place where people try to be friendly. Some of them succeed, some don't. Homesickness is a funny thing. I am, after today, more homesick for Bangor than India at the moment, I do believe! But then I miss India. I am honoured to be a part of OU, but wondering if it just could be that all the offhandedness is only imagined. It is not snobbish - but it is not protective or helpfully forthcoming either. It is very hard to be away from home and on your own, and not have people coming forward to help or look after you. I am finally required to grow up. Just when I was afraid of growing old. But people are people. Everywhere.

And I do feel inadequate as I have absolutely no idea how to begin and no idea if I can ask how either. It doesn't feel like I can - or sound like it. It is a beautiful city as I remember it. My friends here are lovely - they are so warm and welcoming. Will I find friends who like me for me - or will I have to morph into this posh fashion-swinging brain-box.... I could try - I wouldn't succeed or at least not very well. Let's face it - I am inadequate. God isn't. And let's face it - I knew I was taking all this on before I came here. I miss the fatherly EW, the motherly PM, the hundred little family things of BCC, the completely open friendship and little-brother person's role GJ played and just the number of people I could call on if I didn't want to wallow in some emotional warp. Yes, I can call on people here but they wouldn't know what I need because they don't know me. These people at home here though know I need God's love and we give and take of it - and for that I am infinitely grateful.

I am here and I have no idea how to begin. But I will do it.

Added to what needs no addition is my mother wondering if I will find Prince Charming. I can't afford a Prince Charming and spending quality time with royalty at the moment ;D but even if he were to show up, I don't want one if God doesn't want that as His first option. And I am worried about how much our desires may be able to skew our vision for where we're going... Besides it's hard enough getting over imagined Princes Charming, he he... But seriously - hard enough getting over hurting Princes not-quite-charming or charming-but, and then ripping oneself apart now and then to see if you really really do have a 'but' in the picture and then ripping oneself apart because you had to rehash it for the nth time and not realise how happy you are and that there is no need to have felt guilty in the first place. I think conscientiousness can be a hard driver sometimes... And there's a difference between your conscience and conscientiousness if the Lord's in it.

Thank you because it is lovely to have this conversation with all of us - mum, Sunflower Girl, Grafx, Ta'fxkz (heh they rhyme!), Dinesh, Greeta, Switchblade... hmmmm dunno if anyone else would on the offchance read my blog but that seems to cover it - and you listening to it, Lord. Thanks for chipping in too.

26th September 2007

Couldn't publish this on the day I wrote it:

Might never get a chance to blog from anywhere other than India and the UK - well maybe not from Kuwait anyway :D. Uh huh that's where I am at the moment sitting with all these businessmen florid from the sun and mostly shaven-headed, for pretty much the same reasons I guess, and these sheiks florid from just natural colour and health, tapping away at their laptops probably checking the news from the stock market or something! I'm just glad I can talk to my folks for free ;) - he he, and I don't have any of the local currency and I jolly well am not changing as much as they say I've got to to make one phone call or two.

Kuwait looks pretty neat from an aerial view - a bit more man-made than most countries from air but in very good taste I must say. Neat little inlays and driveways, yes driveways, into the sea and back. First time I'm landing over a desert area. Arid, yes, and much less populated than I expected but very beautiful. The gulf is gorgeous-looking.

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It's a bit strange, my homesickness this time. I had the usual pre-homesick feelings and everything. But I didn't cry as much except when I thought about it. Maybe I had much more time to think before. This has happened very fast and not quite expected a few months ago. Okay, I had a couple months' notice but I'm sorta slow. Stupid Tassi didn't come to say bye - she can't be woken up for any money... Of course she came and chattered afterwards - but heck what's the point? LOL - 2:30 am found me weepily walking into Shadow's and saying 'Bye, sweetheart, I do love you, you know'... to a - ermmm - shadow. Not mine though - not by the light or by the species. She was under the stairs where I found her later - only this time I was giggling like an idiot.

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Prince-ah's thingummyjig no 2 has dropped!! After like a year and a half - about a year later than it should have. But hey, who's complaining... And Becki and amma did call Abraham and Sarah in as witness ;D.

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Missing amma and appa somewhat terribly now - moved from '-ish' to 'definitely', paragraph by paragraph! Looking forward to going to OU though although I'm pretty nervous so that I don't know where to start with being concerned about things. I'm also pretty sure there's no need to be despite what things look like. CD said something like there will be storms, when Jesus is in the boat. But yeah, that's the good thing about those storms, hey?

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I am, I have concluded, simply NOT cut out of business class flight material. The man came over with a tray full of croissants and Danish pastries and I was quite sure I wanted the half-sweet, pineapple one on the top. So I smiled a business-class hopefully-blase smile and went and picked the croissant with my hand instead of waiting for the guy to use the tongs he'd so skillfully covered in a towel over his arm! What'm I supposed to do? I was deprived of proper butlers during my formative years!

And then I woke up with a hurting nose probably dry from the inflight temperature, and also went and sniffled my nose in the wet towel in desperation as I couldn't find my tissue and couldn't leave my seat!

It would have to be the law that the guy in the aisle row was as suave and chilled out as he possibly could be. And here I was thinking I would be the ice princess to any commoner who smiled at me...

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Please pray that I will be able to stand in His perfect will and have my head about me with the research and everything else.

:)

He said to me, "This is the word of the LORD to Zerubbabel: 'Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,' says the LORD Almighty."
Zechariah 4:6

Room 101

Okay this is going to be one of those '101' things I just can't GET and which drive me insane!


1. When you meet an Indian acquaintance, and you do the mandatory hug and they say "Oh it's been aaages" and you go "Yeah, I know it has, hasn't it? How are you??? Soooo glad to see you" and generally gush because Q.E.D. they have just brought it to your notice that it has been ages - why oh whyyyyyy do they then turn around and say "Why have you come back?" as if they were enquiring about a terminal illness of a mutual acquaintance!! I mean - how rude is that?! And why should I not be in India if I want to? And why do they then follow it up with "When are you going back?" Can they be any ruder? And they're mostly the aunty-uncle grade, with all the best intentions for a 'successful future'. It's just us who think it's a downgrade to be back in our country! Gah! I have extreme reactions to some of the sub-species. I feel like reaching out and yelling and clawing my hair apart and giving them a tight one, and just laughing with the absurdity. Thank goodness I'm not the impulsive kind. My mum and dad would have had to move a long time ago...

2. Nighties and sneakers. This one always makes me laugh. I mean okay you need a daily walk, or run or whatever it is that fights that fat, sister. But give over the fashion statement. Saris and sneakers are alliterative but secondary offenses.

3. Bad grammar, bad spelling... It just means you haven't read over what you've written or thought about it. I mean you can do without grammar if it makes sense. Phrases instead of sentences. Stream-of-consciousness writing. Okay, I can handle it. But don't ask me to "Let she open the window". Just don't. Okay. And if you do know the rights and the wrongs of it, please see the humour of the mistake with me. Thanks.

4. Getting told to do the same thing twice or three times over. Enough said on this one!

5. Why do people in Inner Circle (that's a socio-linguistic term) countries like the USA and UK etc assume that if you speak English and did not grow up on their native hemisphere, you must be some sort of prodigy???! Did they think the colonisation was just a dream (bad or otherwise) that lasted a couple of days? Or do they not see that people are more cross-cultural now? I mean get out of it.

6. Talking to me when I'm reading or just generally monosyllabic. I am probably in a moodswing or in deep introspection. If I were you, I'd leave the grouch to herself... she deserves it.

7. People who agree with me and start the sentence with 'No'. 'I think the hype's a bit much.' - 'Noo noo, they are over-reacting'. Er, YES, some people do that. Arrrgghhh. If you agree with me, just come out and say it! I do ;D.

8. When different is assumed bad - keep guidelines if you choose to see the world in a dichotomy. Or even if you choose to see part of it as one. It is I think. I do. Mine's the Bible. But not everything different is bad - not everyone who eats with their hands is unhygienic, and not everyone who goes out to a club for recreation is amoral. I'm sorry - different cultures, different rules. Live with it.

9. Indian public toilets. There's more usage outside those Corporation walls than inside. Again - when you're entirely modest and conservative with everything else, whyyyyyy this???!!

10. People who ask me how I manage my food. In a commiserating tone. Round eyes, shaking heads, and "Must have been very difficult. But you get 'our' ingredients easily, lai??" To which I always replied, "Er not really. It was rather on the expensive side." Then they'd say "Appo then how did you manage??" Errrm, I ate what was readily available? And liked it and survived? And if I thought about idly once in a long while, I didn't starve for it. Again I can't get the "Can you cook?" question. No, I can't or rather don't a lot. But I survive. And yes, I can put something together if I wanted to. Comprende?

11. This must be a tangent to 10. I CANNOT understand mothers who want cooking machines for their sons. Can she cook? Veetu velaiyella seivalaa??? Flippin' rubbish. Annoys me the sort of stuff people look for in finding brides and grooms. Nothing against arranged marriages. And I've known Casanova-wannabes also start off the stalking with the brilliant pick-up line 'So you can cook, huh? I'm sure you'll do better than me.' I don't know - many women would take pride in their culinary skills but so would men - and don't flippin' assume I can cook and better than you. It's the pressure, eedjit!

12. Dog-haters.

13. What makes me really grumpy, although if I'm with someone I just have to laugh! - the fact that India is slowly converting to the Western style of toilets... Errrr I have no problem with either EXCEPT that ummm India tends to wash and Europe and America tend to dry-clean!!! And the toilet goes with the territory. I hate hate hate yucky, wet WCs as we call them here - and I just don't understand why they won't have both like the good old days!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Finally I am a nice person. Really. Just now and then on the occasional night, when the time's right I become a monster of insane intolerance... in the cyber world. Fiiinneee, don't believe me!

Who let the dogs in? - Misty

Long ago - well, not so long if I didn't feel so old - we had a dog called Misty. She was hilarious. She also took it into her gorgeous Alsatian head that I was the younger member of the pack and that I could therefore be bullied.

Misty had a name for me - when she wanted me, it wasn't 'bow-wow'. It was, for some odd reason, 'Ya-woo'. Misty also pulled the warning stick out of my hand any time she wanted to. Misty jumped on me, pulled me and wouldn't let me go downstairs from the terrace when I wanted to. I mean, who was I kidding? Let it be known - she called the shots. I just called mummy. Misty never apologised - she just grinned. Elsa, my special sweetheart, scratched me in an enthusiastic frenzy just once in her life and then nuzzled me for a long time afterward in my lap with mournful eyes. Misty was always daddy's dog. But hey, we were siblings after a manner, and she was born with the right to bully me. No, she came after me but dogs come with this whole octal thing, huh.

Misty was also my protector from crows. We took an intense dislike to their violent and hostile antics from the days of our romps on the terrace. Shadow took the baton after her. Shadow, my Shadow, defender of the corvidophobic (yeah, I just looked it up), and all-round good dog. I will write about her. She deserves it.

But so does Misty - I cuddled Misty and once in a while she agreed to cuddle me. When she was much older, and just a teeny bit wiser, the girl would smile a more gentle smile instead of that war-cry-like grin she greeted me with. It was like we were playing Red Indians all the time (not that I've ever played it, and not that I don't know they're about the most peaceful people you could look up - so much for hashed metaphors).

Recently this memory came up again - when I was rehashing an old sin, fearing an old fascination, brooding over words whether two days ago or two decades/ and enjoying the feel of victimisation. Misty had another very curious habit.

We often tied her up with a leash instead of putting her in a kennel because it gave her much more room to move about. Rest assured we only ever did this when people visited. Er, Misty didn't mind tasting their ankles with of course the friendliest motives. What's a little nip between friends - she'd say. Her fashion sense was impeccable. Any uncool sunglasses, people walking about in night-clothes as if it were the fashion on the day, big straw hats in your yard - Misty was on it like a bullet. I mean, we've got to maintain some standards, puhleeeze.

So the friend who brandished his sunglasses in his hand got nabbed. As did any of us venturing out in those very fashionable hussif-y nighties, or me with a hat on ala my mum. Also as a pup, if anyone was leaving casually, they had it. Who did they think they were leaving without so much as a mention to the members of the family? - in Misty's opinion.

Well, yes I am coming to the curious habit... So with this propensity of Misty's to be law-maker, police, friend and terrorist in one, we would have to tie her up. There were times when, as a creature of habit, she would insist on it. Mealtimes. When Elsa was in. After a bath, maybe.

Misty was weirdly wary of her freedom though! When we let her out or untied her, she would just stay put. Much as if she had never been freed. I mean, we could stand outside with treats and cajoling but she would look at us quizzically from that entrance to her kennel with an eminently kissable face. We could have called all day but Misty would not have left for most of the morning, I suspect. No, she was used to being inside. Also she was suspicious in this one thing only. She never really believed the chain was off. Misty's special kink, this was!! Dumb dog! Bleh.

We had to put the end of that leash over the top of her door just where she could sniff it. Then she would sniff it and satisfy herself that it was gone. She never accepted it when the chain was just off her. I understand though - I mean she must have acclimatised herself in the space of those minutes to thinking she was a tied dog. Like me with my fears and guilt-trips! And you couldn't know for sure, you couldn't just believe that it was off without definite proof. So she would wait patiently - she must have concluded we were so stupid - and she would stay inside that kennel until that chain was under her nose, reminding her that it was the same one she'd been tied with.

All she needed to do really was step out of the kennel, just a little further than the leash would let her. But she had to see to believe. Dumb dog!

But it was finished.

Emotion register

I always feel seriously crappy after feeling happy n high on top of the world -y.

I mean something from two days ago will suddenly take to new brooding depths....

Gah!

A Second Helping of India

Or maybe thirds or fourths or tenths.

Anyway, so seeing my dismal smile of resignation, Random Pastor decided to pitch in. Bless him. Actually all I said was 'Appadiya' literally translating to 'Is that right?' and meaning a lame 'Oh okay'. All smiles now, The Me although my mum or best friends would have detected a slightly weak stretch of lip more like a grimace... Random Pastor asked: 'Right then, shall we take the vandi?'. Vandi simply means vehicle and I just beamed, I tell you. I just decided we were kindred spirits and all that ;D

Then he hauled up his white cassock like a lungi at half-mast, while I just looked him up and down - very respectfully, but slightly baffled at what he might be contemplating next. Well, I was surprised. RP was very enthusiastically offering to take me on my own to his town on his bike.... errrrr I just thought it would be uncomfortable. When my mum heard the story, she applauded my er very creditable prudence. Heh! She was concerned about how the let's-just-say-forwardness might be construed in the very village-y, and parochial setting.................. Well, I was NOT bleeddddddyyy going on that bike on those roads with that skirt on at that point of time. So I gave my extremely-brilliant-toothpaste-ad smile as substitute for the genuine article and said 'Hang on, just one minute, thanks!' and walked right up to what looked to be the Presiding Aunty at the gathering. By this time, I was thinking the whole thing was quite surreal! And I just lied - spoke in faith would be closer, actually - and told her magnanimously that a trip to the toilet would be welcome to all the girls, so could we please have the van instead of a bike? As it would, of course, only be for the general good.

And bingo! It turned out all the girls were actually feeling like miserable waddles themselves and I was just the heroine of the piece (well, here anyway;D). We missed the second village but... Ah, peace. And a very jolly bus ride after a brilliant trip.

A piece of India

Sunday before last, church was out on an evangelistic visit to a village. Two villages actually - and it was way cool. The village women actually cooked a huge meal for us at the end of it! Some more slurping! There was a childless couple there - and they made me get a bit weepy. I mean why? But we looked at each other tearily and were girls. I hugged her and she hugged back - ain't that a kick in the head? ;) And btw I believe the answer to my why question (this one at least) is shortly in the pipeline! After the meal we went to the next village - AND let me tell you, one's internal whatchumacallits defo seem to work on the psychological moment!!!

Anyway what can you expect when they give you a banana the size of a small forearm after your big meal??!!?? LOL LOL LOL. Mad. I should have known though. I got on that bus and halfway to the next village I needed the toilet. And oh how! So I waddle up to the woman highly conscious of myself imagining the eyes of everyone on me! I turn around to see this random pastor following me, in enthusiastic helpfulness. Well, what can you do with him? None of those other watchful eyes were on me - I wasn't half that big a star. So I just plucked up the courage and asked the lady of the house if I could please use her toilet. I wasn't expecting none too posh, but I was hoping she'd say there was one...... She did. She said yes. Random Pastor said no. And I bobbed from one nod to the other shake like a pendulum with jitters. Until I turned to the woman. Look, my speaking eyes said, woman-to-woman you know how much I need this, can you just ignore protocol, forget listening to the pastor-in-authority and just jolly well show me the old john??? However it actually came out quite garbled - The Me said "It's there? Yes. Toilet, there is? No?" The Me was not disappointed. The fellow-woman smiled. Indeed. The pastor reiterated his stand on the matter. But hey, her house, her rules. So I followed, while Random Pastor followed faithfully.

Ten steps down, the lady turned to me with a shyly generous smile, and a broad sweep of her hand, indicating that this was her domain and her largess was meant for the benefit of all, including humble me, in that typically Indian open-heartedness. "Everyone goes in the 'maidanam'". That is the Indian word for a large open space.

:O

I know what you're thinking! LOL I did not.

PS Ever since switchblade blogged about Scrabble and isc, I've gone and gotten addicted again when I thought it was over! I go 500 up and down in a day sometimes! Uh!

PPS It is just great to play the guitar again.

P-this-is-the-last-one-S I have a story feeling and I cannot let myself sit this one out.

Murder

My blog is like my happy place at the moment - yeah, personal shrink and all that... Btw don't get me started on the shrink fad, it won't help my ahem readership ;)

First I am extremely tired. Therefore it makes perfect sense that every time I am tired even at one in the morning I am praying and/or blogging! - or not. Prayer works. Blogging is a feeling in my thumbs, those entirely h-sapient digits... I know when I have a light bubble-blog coming along... Agatha Christie would swear that that means murder. Well *evil laugh* maybe it does. Maybe I shall murder someone - but I won't do it quite in a murder mystery kinda way. As you probably know, I'll do it in a Macbethian melodramatic kinda way... and then brood over the fact that it would have gone down much better in the plotted, quiet way. I mean who would suspect me? I am this harmless ranting, raving lunatic. Even in self-defence I couldn't harm a fly - or could I?

Just when I had convinced myself that if I just moved myself to stay alert now and then and kept free and open from dark, hidden, gangster corners, I could reclaim my peace of mind - they zeroed in on me with blatant intent. Can I hire a lawyer here please? It's a dead shot.

Their purpose was to draw blood. Their purpose could not be inconclusive as the situation was in a library cum TV room area. The late accused were unable to read. They were also unable to process celluloid visual images as their blind spots are sensitive only to heat. Sitting well away from the tube, and only among undisturbed books, their intent was to attack with intent to cause grievous bodily harm. They knew that a certain continued chain of events would cause the desired effect of harm. The victim (in this case, also the counsel for prosecution) was the only other object or body in the area of the crime. The accused were also in possession of the necessary weaponry for the nature of the crime in this trial. The evidence upon the victim's body verifies that the same weaponry that the accused possessed were used to inflict the injury found. Having then established that the crime has taken place, and that the accused are guilty of mens rea, if not malice aforethought, and that the presence of the accused and the time of the crime are in correlation, this court has now established the accused guilty of murder in the second degree.

Actually if it was my trial and if the world accepted the reality of such killings as these which go unheralded, silently buried, I could be charged in the first degree since I killed a record number of mosquitoes yesterday and didn't even feel guilty about the little critters. It was malice aforethought. Okay, okay so don't hit me! I told you this is one of my happy places for now :D LOL I mean they were coming at me from all angles - even the psychological one!! As you doubtless have seen...

I thoroughly enjoyed the criminal law seminars I sat through but for a short, not-intensive look you could go here.

Mmuahhaaahhaaaaa <:|

Slurps, sighs and spaces inbetween

Sluuurrrrp. Fish fry and chicken curry, appam and fish molie, praline souffle and chocolate mousse, bacon and chicken foccaccio with chicken cheese paratha, chocolate icecream, amma's curry and mangooooooes, kalappam and honey dosais, sapotas, pasta and a whole load of Mars bars. I repeat - mangoes.

I repeat, with just so many rs and us - sluuurrrrp.

Siiigghhh. Starting with the perfect bamboo bag of old blogdom, I have had a satisfying look at all the little arty knick-knacks you could imagine, and then intense shopping like saris and salwars and kurtas and tops and jeans... I have had a rummage through the library - notwithstanding the fact that the idiot told me there was some problem with my membership and I couldn't take out any because I couldn't produce the little tiny square piece of paper he gave me at least 7 years ago! I have had an elephant ride with my nicely nervous father - Malathy decided to poo as soon as we plomped our behinds on her! I have shopped for smellies - which are a lovely girly-girl thing to shop for and spices.

I repeat, with just so many is and gs and hs - siiigghhh.

And I have no slurps or sighs, just speechlessness for the awe that comes upon you when you realise that God's actually so much more beautiful than the wonder He's created. Bird-watching (one of them composed a new tune every day, he was the Malabar whistling thrush), elephant-riding, spice-trailing, exploring, mountain-walking, deer-spotting, photography and family.

And here's a random, bizarre conversation...

Appa: Hello? Yes, this is room 503.
Voice on other end: 503?
Appa: 503. What? 503. Er, 503 - 50... N, what's the room number again??
Voice: Right, 503.
Appa: Yes well, we have a problem - we have no hot water and we need to be at the airport in a couple of hours! (Btw, it was freezing.)
Voice: Oh, hoat 'oater? Should be there sir...
Appa: No, it's not. Is there a certain time when it'll start?
Voice: No time. All the time.
Appa: But I've asked and we still have no water - see, if there's a problem with the water -
Voice: No proablem, sir.
Appa: No, if there is - what I'm saying is... you just send up two buckets of hot water, no??!
Voice on other end: To drink, sir?

My bizarre goings-on

The most normal activity for the average girl and law-abiding citizen in your average family friendly neighbourhood in the late hours of the night - climbing down a ladder and a drainpipe onto a window to redeem a razor because it is the last remaining one before we can get to a shop tomorrow!! Yes, that would be normal, thank you...

LOL.

We have had an interesting weekend as A & M have arrived and I'm doing the touristy thing with them. We have a week of travelling ahead of us as well and are so looking forward to it. It's brilliant to be able to remember what a lovely place you live in too.

So we took a drive down to Mahabalipuram and went round all the monuments and carvings... we gave the shore temple a miss. My dad walked into the Five Rathas and was promptly stopped. Rudely. Then my mum and I. Now my dad was dressed in jeans, my mum in a salwar and me in jeans without anything er Indianly amiss... i.e. no tank tops, no halters, no tights, nothing remotely ramp-esque, no rolled up sleeves or trouser legs.... I mean I looked Indian... And I know it. Lol, the ultimate proof if you needed it, for instance - I am not of course suggesting for an instant that you don't believe me. Believe me!! I am so right ;D - I did not even have straightened hair! Ahhh, now I see your eyes rolling. Vanity, vanity - yeah, Solomon, you're the man ;).

Lol, anyway seriously - the man did not think we were Indian. Because we came with two people who were not Indian, so no 2 + 2 does not make four, really... No no no. So we had these tickets that he was not going to accept because he wanted us to prove that we were Indian and this is a half-hour down the road from our house! And my mum kindly informed me that I simply did not understand that in India they don't take to youngsters disagreeing. I don't understand that - I understand some people do wherever they are in the world... But er I still disagree :( I mean a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, eh?

Well, after that we found a cute little monkey whom my dad took on his lap... The story of the monkey is however that he was rather attracted to me :(. Yes, the life and loves of Pilgrim. Born Anno Domini___ , lived___, deeply mourned by Mr Monkey........

Oh and I got this perfect little bamboo bag that M bought for me for a present. It is gorgeous and a good size to carry when I'm going out for the day! It is just right, not too posh, not too tacky... and veeery in, ooohh yeah ;D

There were loads of things I wanted to put down on this blog but have no time. In fact, I'm so preoccupied it's taking longer! Bleh! So final news story for the day - one of these networking sites had my attention one jobless evening. So I messed about with the relationship status thingy looking for options - as in 'single but committed' or 'single and in a relationship with God' or 'in healthy relationships with friends and family' but er Booong Gutter Ball... So I went back to my old one, but the stupid interface put it on the news which means my church back in B has been in a state of furore (well, by church I mean girls' cell because it's the kind of thing you yak about between Bible studies and wellllllll after :D)... Did NOT know they were until a couple of days ago when RM finally broke it to me, asking me to 'put them out of their misery' and a day later M arrives to have a word with me about what did I think I was doing :D... Siiiiigggghhhh - and Darcy is either in P&P or in the process.

And by the way, just so you know God has been working out things in my life:D Wehey!!

Word

You search in so many places for the real me because you cannot bear the silence of waiting. It is the sort of silence one dreads. The silence in which you can hear yourself. But it is in the silence of waiting that I am found. In the truth about yourself, I come. Where I have always been, but you have chosen not to see. Vulnerability is the cost you must count.

Altars on the journey

Recently I have had what we shall call 'misty moments' rather more often. I suppose in seeking God, brokenness must come. It hurts. I've heard people say love hurts - that's probably why we don't spend enough time on our relationships. Well, I don't. I tend to think the more I love someone, the more secure that relationship is aaaand (here's the real cringer) therefore the less work and time it needs... And Jesus warned about losing the ardour of my first love. It brought a song out of me, once. In the words of Cliff Richard (lol, okay, okay I know, don't hit me ;O) - He knows me better than I know myself, eh? Because, you see, I have this idea that I've got it all together... and when the going's good, I somehow get it into my thick skull that I've got less cleaning up than some... Ooooh boy, I know I'm wrong when I think about it. But complacency happens - far too often.

By the way, on a lighter note, maybe I'm just wired that way!! My mum would probably agree - I leave a couple of clothes on the bed telling myself it's only a couple. I will use it soon enough. Makes sense, doesn't it? Why shove it into my already ready-to-deliver-at-a-nudge wardrobe? Well, there's a couple more tomorrow because something happens and I can't wear just what I thought I'd wear... so the clothes wait, until I need to sleep on the floor and not just out of choice! Sigh! Sometimes I'm so all-girl-stereotype, I could laugh. I mean why can't I wear what I thought I decided to wear? Beats me.

Anyway, that's about what happens to my life often. Thankfully because I am being taught to listen - I am able to see the clutter more clearly. Not because I'm particularly perceptive (sob!) but because... well, what Cliff Richard said. Lol, Jesus knows me best. And I'll admit, I panic sooner and much more when I hear the distance than when I see a messy bed... The trouble is learning to listen takes a lifetime. But God is good and He speaks.

In seeking and listening, as I said, a lot comes out in the raw... And I am so grateful for it. It shakes me out of inertia. And when I feel as if I am reaching out for God, and I know He is holding me so close and holding out to me what He wants for me just before my eyes... and yet, I grope because I am crying... Well, those times it pays to remember the altars on the journey. That's what this blog is about - to say how thankful I am for the times God has led me to write. Because when I want to speak, but can only sob (in a quite-unromantic-big-snivelly way!) or when I want to pray and words will not suffice - and I am waiting on the tongues - when I am overwhelmed - then God, like today, shows me the altars we have built along the way. To comfort and rest and refresh and maybe even give me a cuddle :O!! God holds you when you're breaking, you know... So nothing falls away. So He takes me along and says Okay, it's time to remember. Not relive, not glory in the past, nor bark at a memory just remember what happened that made me write that something, or made me feel that way or what I had heard or seen or learned or received. Yes, I am glad for the altars. Because they trace out a cross.

?

Be very careful, then, how you live--not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord's will is.

What, then, do I do? As I seek the answer, I am learning and unlearning. But I need an answer! But as I seek answers, I come out with peace - no answers yet, but Jesus. Strange working indeed.

My favourite story as a child - it still is one of my favourites and means so much

That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, "Let us go over to the other side." Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?"
He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, "Quiet! Be still!" Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.

He said to his disciples, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?"

They were terrified and asked each other, "Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!"

My world this week ;)

At this point in time, I am really finding waiting on your will hard for me. It's as if you don't hear, and yet when you speak I know you have. And you do speak. Even now.

I'd love my blogging friends who share the faith to pray for me :)

I have had a fantastic week. There has been so much fun and being together with friends and family. And yet both my mum and I feel that just the one thing has gone quite wrong, which is bad because satan's trying to take away the best.

I have this habit of saying to myself and others - life has a way of working itself out. As if life were a self-willed knot, that tied and untied itself. It would take years and years of wearing away and aging for the threads to loosen themselves. Life needs God to work it out.

The three or four full days also mean that I haven't had much time to myself. By the time I get to bed, I am so washed out, I can only pray and read a bit and go to sleep. But I've so wanted to talk to God for a long time and cry. I don't know, LOL, maybe this is just a girl thing. But I am not UNhappy. I have been sad at moments, and I do want to cry but still it's not as if someone's taken my sunshine away!!

Thank you, Lord, that I can blog because this feels so much better again. Lol, yeah, the blog wasn't working for a couple of days either! But even a blog, impersonal and open as it is, is not sufficient. I need God, more of Him I mean. It's funny - beyond a point, impersonal just doesn't cut it for me. God does.

And it would be good to hug my mum again.

It has not all been fun, it has been hard work. And I found out that I was working with two homosexuals. I cannot get over how wrong it is. I pray they would know Jesus. But even a few years ago, you would be laughed at for accepting homosexuality. Now you are laughed at if you don't. As people, I would give the same care to them as to any other person. They are precious to God and he would save us all. But it is sin in the eyes of God. There are several arguments against it. But I am not going into them. Someone who was a friend once said - it's making a mountain out of a molehill. The Bible says it is sin. Then it is sin. And if that makes me a 'bigot', so be it - I agree.

On a different note, I graduate in less than a week. I am rather excited! God has been good - well, what else would he be anyway eh? Lol. It is also perfectly fantastic to be back here and meet everyone and be back in the church here. It's a heart-tripping-quiet-smiling feeling. Well, sometimes it's more like a grin.

Maybe God's plans for me are entirely entirely different to what I think. Nothing he has promised will go unfulfilled. But I have a lot of questions, and no answers, only Jesus. And you know what? That makes me blessed. :D

This is not a sad post

It is as if I search for you, but I have lost the way to you. I know I haven't - the way to you is you.

As though I were speaking and speaking of nothing, until I forgot how to listen.

It is as if I am lost because you are lost. And my way to anyone is lost - or I fear that it will be in the brain-warp that I have stupidly created.

I know this moment is of my making and I know these feelings are only premonitions which will be real if I don't let myself be nothing, give completely and wait.

This is emptiness that only you can fill. The deer to water - that's been done. This, this is just me to you. Speak. I'm listening.

I am like any average person. I think relationships don't need work, I think decisions of commitment come heralded - violin concertos and sunbursts. I keep thinking until I remember or stop thinking to listen. You're good at this - you teach me. I just pray I will learn when it happens with others, when we're both learning, and you still teach. That you will not teach to the unteachable, not for too many moments.

The song I've been listening to over and over again for the past couple of days!

I know my Redeemer Lives

- Nicole C Mullen



Who taught the sun where to stand in the morning
Who told the ocean you can only come this far?
Who showed the moon where to hide 'til evening
Whose words alone can catch a falling star?

Well I know my Redeemer lives
I know my Redeemer lives
All of creation testify
This life within me cries
I know my Redeemer lives

The very same God that spins things in orbit
He runs to the weary, the worn and the weak
And the same gentle hands that hold me when I'm broken
They conquered death to bring me victory

Now I know my Redeemer lives
... He lives

To take away my shame
And He lives forever I'll proclaim
That the payment for my sin
Was the precious life He gave
But now He's alive
And there's an empty grave.

Bubble and squeak

Here I sit in my little Christian bubble, using 'faith-speak' and hoping to speak to the uninitiated. I don't want to 'convert' people, I am not trying. Yet I am inadequate in expressing the vastness of a love that is beyond telling. A love that flows into you and makes you love other people. A love that is so strong that it changes the definition of 'unrequited', and always nullifies it.

When I blog of these feelings, are they too intensely private to share with everyone? I am not talking of this post at all. If they are, am I being exclusivist? I don't mind making this URL my little confession box of sins and non-sins. But I do mind making my visiting preachers feel left out in the cold.

Here I sit in my little Christian bubble, with the colours that make me happy, rolling around inured to the air around me. Maybe there is bubble-time and broken-time. I suspect God prefers broken. I break it, and I am me. As much me as I was inside the bubble. But bubble-squeak and bubble-gloss are gone. And the people happen.

Randomness

Hmmm, why on earth would you listen to 'Ahuh, uh huh (good girl gone bad)' to make you feel better?? I mean why?

AB's having a bad case of nearly love again. AB's a darling.

Beautiful weather. There is absolutely nothing unlovely about rain. Or clouds.

I just might change to a new blogspot for complete anonymity. Just might be fun, seeing how people find me then or joining blogrolls and the like. Besides anonymity is necessary for a confession box - which is why I've never understood the parish priest's role... I mean look what happened in Zorro ;)

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Barking at a memory

Tassi, our 'middle' dog, is a feisty little dachshund. She is like one of those people who never run out of interesting things to say - interesting, at least to themselves (I wonder where she gets it from, not me for sure ;D)... So she's always talking, not just barking, but in a continued non-bark syntactic sounding sort of way. And she will never stop barking at people or animals outside our gates. Usually she calms down a while after they're inside the house - except for some people.

But I will write about Tassi in length, another day. There's a little story I want to tell. There is a family with three little boys near here. Whenever they visited, Tassi's whole day was ruined. Her world would crumble into dry, sour lemon flakes before her very beautiful eyes. She could get used to most people, but not the three boys. It must have been a season of peace for her when the sight of those three boys became a rarity. We loved them - they stayed here for hours, eating, hearing my mother's and my stories, playing with Shadow, chilling with my father, even sleeping on the odd occasion... perhaps to Tassi they were competition. Their presence was a bitter pill. To her, they had no right of entry. She felt victimised. I think we were good with her on that score - we made sure we petted her and played with her. I usually talked gibberish to her afterward so she'd understand my tone. I was basically asking her why she had to feel let down. It is inexplicable and extremely funny too - no one else had such an effect on her, and the three boys did not have that effect on any of the other dogs. They were just children, when she was a pup herself. They were therefore the enemy, a threat to her favoured position. She resented it, she was hurt, she was angry and she was not going to forget!

A few days ago, the oldest boy came over. I guess Tassi never did get over them. She had a lot to say. She stood at the gate and tortured herself by watching her hated enemy constantly; she denounced him, abused him, rebuked him. Maybe he wasn't the enemy at all. Funny. Because when S left, Tassi was allowed inside the house, to make up for her bad morning. She came in, the wrinkles on her worried little forehead and snout clearing cautiously. And then her eye fell on the armchair and she rushed to it in fury, her hair bristling along her spine! It was laughable - she was so cute and funny, but so nonsensical! It was the chair S had been sitting in. And she barked at that chair for all she was worth. Make amends she said - I was angry, redeem that time!! Perceptive little girl, she knew she would get a cuddle if we saw her hurt. Funny little sweetheart, barking at the old chair! LOL

I am like Tassi sometimes, barking at memories, old hurts, pain I carefully preserve to give myself a feeling of righteous victimisation. But I know my Redeemer lives.

me loves this pup

so i'm gorgeous - and?!



boootiful babess!!



soppy lil cuddler :D - that's what he does when he wants a cuddle. puts his neck down in the most uncomfortable way!

Famous Last Words

Why am I writing at ten past one am? Because I am mad. Insanity I suppose has run in the family - I'm sure I've heard covert, oblique references to a single aunt somewhere who was slightly off it. Pity she didn't know me - and pity she probably wasn't rich... I'm mad but not stupid ;) Maybe even two mad aunts. And they weren't even in the attic - Gilbert and Dubar, eat your heart out. He he he *eeeviiil laugh* No, not evil-evil... jus' Cruella without the surname. Heh... Told you - goin' round the twist.

Besides I want to appeal to you, my peeps. WHY is pudding pudding? I mean - why isn't it p-uh-dding?? This is my Facebook (guilty as charged!) status and it is now here. I mean, cuddle is cuddle, budding budding, muddle muddle and thudding thudding... But pudding?! No, it must go and be contrary.

By the way, anyone take a guess on the meaning of 'defenestrate'...?? You 'defenestrate' someone? Don't cheat with Wikipedia though. Or cheat but spell out the process for me. But you - I know what you're thinking! Let me put it in context for you - you defenestrate someone... Woah, hold it right there - wash that thought with soap water - you should be ashamed of yourself... gasp He he.

Bah, I shall probably be mortally embarrassed by my entire ignorance of style and cohesion and by my madness and confessional-but-pointless prose here. But I speak with the heavy eyes of one who faces sure but temporary nocturnal extinction. In English then, I'm going to be out like a light. *Giggle*

Pease (parsnips and potato)

pilgrim

Ancient paths

I just read a post by 'Lord Veritas' called Heaven Without Christ and it hit home. Reminded me of something I have always held a dear cause... Why preach if you don't preach Christ? Surely philosophy and theory and opinion have their place - but I'm guessing people already know or have their own opinions about it. I am probably going to go off on a completely wide tangent here - but hey, hence this blog's convenient title ;) This is perhaps not a take on Lord Veritas' but just the expression of something it triggered in me - which is what good writing does.

I have a friend (whom I always seemed to be arguing with, until God decided I needed to hold my ahem peace!) - and he believes that God has called him to provide for the intellectuals. And that they can only be reached through expositions of philosophy. My issue with this friend is not that he is right in not including me in the band of intellectuals ;) but that he often makes assumptions of situations, that I (perhaps arrogantly) claim to know better of simply because I am in them. Sometimes even assumptions about being female, or being in my family - in good spirit, he explains what he believes is Truth. LOL Yes, he capitalises the T ;). But that is my point - I would only capitalise it if in reference to Jesus. Some things are absolutes - I live in a country that reminds me of that everyday. The Bible is. But there are interpretations and opinions that are militant against another's - they are not salvation-stealing or power-pilfering, but they are discounted nonetheless. I suppose I have been guilty of having rejected another's view summarily, without listening for God's take first... But in our urgency to give our truth to the people we meet, we forget to give God's truth; forget that at the foot of the cross the same God changes and speaks; forget that the Spirit's discernment is far more understanding than our own. And we are also guilty of universalising personal revelations - no, we do not just share them. We 'absolutise' them. To me, the Bible remains the bottom-line on drawing lines... as does the God of the Bible. No, I am not speaking for those arguments that allow and liberalise everything the Bible says - face-value is not dispensable in our search for depth, is it?

I am, in fact, arguing for the ancient path. I am no post-modern, although there are remnants of truth in nearly every philosophy. I don't entirely hold with co-authorship... I long and hope that the Author will speak sooner than the readers of the Text. But that capitalised Truth? Lol, I believe we will find it here. Here in India, I belong to a church that because of its structure has someone at the top giving it its sermons. And because of its structure, there are several visiting pastors and theologians who preach. Theologians who preach philosophy... forgive me for the pun on those two words, but the wisdom of man is foolishness to God, and vice versa...

Many times you will find me ranting on the opposite side of the track (I have said I was a BoC) - that face-value foolishly forsakes the Spirit for the letter, but not when the Person is lost for the principles. The reason Christianity is different is because it is personal. In my responses to my Muslim students who chose to take the offensive on quite a few occasions, the one point at which they balked is when I told them fuss-free that I knew this fantastic, wonderful, entirely lovable and so-let-down-able Jesus - and that He loved me even more. And the gospel of Christ and the cross, God's love and sacrifice cannot be compromised. God's love not ours... I think that our relationship with Jesus is the centrifugal force that gives our Christianity its validity. Call me old-fashioned. I probably am. But the Bible is never out of fashion. And the Bible has copyright on love, not you or me. When I think of 'old-fashioned-ness', it's not about ideals and values - fashions are much more about the self.

Yet in my worship and in my meditation - if life and truth are not real, then I have lost my way.

The best so far, and better yet to come

Thank You. That is all I need to say, yet so little - but nothing is 'enough' in infinity.

Dunamis

I think it must be a largely Indian thing to favour PG Wodehouse - few of the non-Indian members of my acquaintance do...

God has been doing quite a few things in my life lately. Tomorrow will be 12 years since I accepted Jesus as Lord - AND Saviour - and said Welcome, Holy Spirit... And how gorgeous and exciting that feels, and still promises to be is something words fail me for...

I read this thing from a friend - and it quoted 2 Corinthians 12:9.
"And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

But it brought home to my mind the fact that the Greek word used for 'strength' there is actually dunamis - dynamite, of course. Wow! So I'm this weak, confused, insecure little thing one moment - but I ask God's power in, allow it to work and wham! I'm a force to reckon with. One little power-package! It's not just a quiet strength, it's explosive. Don't get me wrong - the quiet confidence speaks volumes more than the striving, point-proving argument... But if it is a quiet strength - in the midst of all your troubles and your decisions, in the midst of that
'whelming flood'
of yours - you know that there is a potential shell-shocking, earth-shaking explosion in it, for just when you need it.

I also read Psalm 119:25 -32 and it hit home as the Bible always does. Thought I'd share it with you.

I have been faced with many decisions lately - I need a whole train-load of wisdom for all of them. They all seem so inter-twined too. I also need to get a few needless worries out of my head ;) Thanks, BO, SD and AB for your prayers. Keep at it. God gives us the best always - I need to be able to listen - VERY carefully - and obey.

Love and prayers all,

pilgrim

Of psycho-analyses, promised lands and PG Wodehouse

These days I am a strange bundle of contradictions. (I mean I've always been a BoC but these days I'm a strange one). Sometimes I am so disappointed about the fact that I cannot be myself. These times are painful. Other times I am shocked at the me that I am. These times are first disappointing, then slowly painful. I suspect being the one will even out the other. But I am annoyed with myself for not giving me the chance, even more annoyed for letting circumstances take that chance away.

Where's the calm, collected (well maybe not!) secure grown-up, all integrated and unfazed? LOL. I know she's around somewhere but I miss her. My well delayed New Year's eve resolution - Make a habit of Miss Calm Collected Grown-Up and then she will come to stay. Bah, onto lighter subjects...

No matter how much my phiz floweth forth (by my able endeavours) with milk and honey, and for good measure, face packs and herbal concoctions, I still have spots the size of tangerines as giant mangoes relentlessly assault my senses - and erm my skin! Nevertheless one must plod on, as jolly old Joshua and Caleb would have said. One must look one's giant in the eye with a rallying 'What-ho, chappie' and proceed to battle even in the face of imminent danger.

LOL, sorry, feeling a bit Wodehousian this time round. I do have my own style (*she said panicking* LOL) - I'm just, uh, playing to the galleries ;D

Have I mentioned how Shadow gets gorgeouser and gorgeouser every day?? Guessing that's how God meant creation to be - groaning inwardly and yearning towards the final glory :DDD (*big grins*).

Hugses and kisses, my loveses,

bbye ;)

Funny English contd...

Or - or 'hair-brained' *she gasps* - I mean that would be a major foolicle ;). Where on earth do they get these ideas?? I s'pose it's because more native speakers speak and don't read - and so they assume 'hair', 'hare' not being in their immediate (dare I say limited?) vocabulary at all! But aaahh!!

Or 'bear-faced design'?? I mean - so there's a horse-faced design and a bull-faced design in the offing??

'The site of it' - ahem, has anyone ever heard of homophones and the fact that there is a flippin' difference??

'Viscous' - instead of 'vicious'.

And I have a friend who emails all these long words - so often misspelled!! Gah! (I owe my recent proliferation of 'gahs' to BO, who has sneakily rubbed that habit off on me! Gah!)

Don't expect this to end - I shall probably off-load here all too often on the subject of the much maligned language. AND (see, I told you ;P it's happening already) - why on earth are we all becoming American in our English?? We are Indian - we have a history and the British were a part of that. That was more than half a century ago. Now we ourselves have appropriated our English... then why why why copy mindlessly?? Gah! The defeat of my argument lies right in it anyway - so I'll stop now :( But it does have its points, you know. I mean, "multie-talented"??? In my dictionary, that is just not in :-)P

Funny English

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I talk too much - faaaaaarrrr too much. Tis a far, far better thing to shut up than I have ever done before... but unlike Carton I don't think I'm going to follow through. You might also guess that I am in another of those silly moods, somewhat like my ramble about a month ago ... maybe I'm just well-timed. Or you might notice because of the wealth of wisdom I display (now if I could just say 'my minions' it would complete the desired effect for that sentence - but I can't cos you're not and you'll be mad and I love you anyway :( )... *Giggle* Ah well...

I want to rant about another of my favourite subjects - the general widespread culture of abuse of that innocent (well, not really) victim - the English Language!!

I mean what can you do with someone who misspells 'maelstrom' so grotesquely (yep, it has been my IM status for the past coupla days!) as to call it 'male-storm'?? And no pun intended... Well, LOL, serves me right for reading a tepid, trashy, mushy first-thing-I-found-online-because-library-was-inaccessible book! And the idiot's mind was on a man - so malestorm might have been right. But then they just misspelled it right through with a grace and aplomb you would have to see to believe :O And then things like 'I had to give him a peace of mind for my piece of mind' - first, I didn't know minds were dissectable, and second it sounds slightly cannibalistic! *Siighhh*

I know, I know what you're going to say - the drama-queenness is overdone, pilgrim. LOL. Fffine :P But these errors really make me laugh and wind me up at the same time. Siiiiggghhh, it's probably why I love teaching English (more so when I'm not doing it;O).

Here's another one which only made me laugh. It was a friend and she's quite nice and hey, she's not undertaking to write a full-length novel and misspell in its first language, is she? Okay here goes - My dad had a provisional store. No, the store wasn't optional just in case other stores didn't work out. LOL.

I've already given you one by the famous college principal in my Those Random Things post. But here's another one - "I have two daughters, both girls".
I, most emphatically, did not make that up. *Giggle*

Another thing - why do so many people (these are mostly native speakers!) use 'I should of' instead of 'I should have'?? Bothers me no end ;) So yeah, the unstressed form of both words is [əv]... so? It makes absolutely no sense whatsoever - LOL LOL the funniest bit is when they actually stress the unstressed words in speech and it comes out 'I should OF'...

Okay rant over. RIP :P

Fruit of the Spirit

I know that I have subjected you, dear reader (I told you I had a Bronte complex, just be glad I didn't go with 'gentle reader' :P), to a recent prolificacy (I checked and that word does exist :P) of short spurts of creativity... And I am probably going to do it again. Maybe you're better off without the longer, rather interminable rambles ;)

God taught me something, gave me a flash of insight that I am deeply grateful for. There are nine qualities or virtues listed out in the Galatians 22:5,6 bit. But the collective noun for them all in that sentence is 'fruit' and it is singular. I spotted this a few years ago and quite predictably, being the inimitable if slightly patience-testing me, I thought Aha! Grammar mistake - probably a typo!! Call Zondervan! LOL. But in a few more moments I realised God definitely meant for it to be that way. God was saying something - immense yet succinct. I was not exhibiting the fruit if I failed in one of it. I could not ever take it all at one go and be the super-Christian. And I realised it only came as a fruit of the Spirit. God was who I had to seek.

Time has taught me that spending time in His presence, seeking intimacy with Him, just loving Him and learning to love Him makes that fruit happen. See, I can't take and mould the creation out of clay like God did... all I can do is water the vine it falls from :D Well, what can I say... I'm thick and it often take me some time to figure it out ;) His presence brings His glory among us.

But the recent insight was a little bit deeper. There was this moment when I suddenly realised with a hard little catch that I had lost a little bit of the joy. It was only a brief period, but as thoughts go, I then realised I had also been a bit worried and nervous all day. The thought hung in the air before it took shape inside my slightly foggy brain - I knew it was going to be born. LOL.

So I'd lost my peace. Then I saw how the love had gotten chipped away too. And faster than I knew it, I finally grasped what God was saying. I have never realised how dependent they are. Without peace, my heart was not going to be as joyful. Without love, the irritability and not the calm surfaced. Patience (which I dearly need) allows peace, kindness patience... For instance, self-control will not let me act on selfish impulse, it spells patience and peace and love and gentleness and faithfulness...

I am no goody two-shoes. My friends and family will vouch for it ;D I might still take it upon me to tell little M to cut it out - but she will know and I will know that I care, and she doesn't take more than a few minutes to come back and ask if she can visit. As it is, for those who are interested, she has been invited to visit and made arrangements even before she was asked... Let's see if today finds me watching Lion King or the likes and enjoying myself hugely :D.

Lord, You are beautiful. Thank You for being You. You're just fantastic, and thank You for us!!

PS Not quite as short as you'd hoped, eh? ;P

Re: A love note

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She listened to the preacher talking about the abundance of joy God gives. How had she forgotten if but for a moment? Where had those walls come from? They were easy enough to break but who built them? When?

When the meeting came to an end and the usual songs were sung and the prayer was being prayed, the preacher asked for the people to lift their hands up as a token and receive the blessing God was offering. And slowly she did... while waves of joy broke over the people, she held her hands up to those hands that were reaching down...

I've got you. I'm never going to let you go.

And the gift goes on

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You can always bring the blame back to yourself. It is good to admit responsibility, but to take it on is not possible. Simply because like I said, I find it easy to always trace something back to an action of my own. And that's why Jesus took it on. The error is mine, the temptation from outside of me, but the redemption is from Jesus.

I am sorry. I won't do it again. But thank You for paying for the consequences...

It's the best any of us can do, whether it's a word out of season or even hatred against someone.

PS I must remember that nothing and no one can claim any part of me when God claims all of me. Politeness comes second, I think :) We are His to give to the people He chooses, and I am thankful for the people He has given to me.

Those random things

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I can't dance except in worship - in a locked room!

I sing high. Very high. And I do this sometimes in the shower(only the one in my room here in my parents' house, don't worry) just to clear my head! LOL

Dreams are usually like movies - with plots and everything. Or more like novels... with details! Once I dreamt that my father was telling me off very severely and I decided I had to end the unfair tirade - as I did not know what had led to the extensive lecture. I woke up, found my father in the garage, walked upto him and asked him in no uncertain terms why on earth he was going on yelling at me like that! *Appa, yaen kathurae??!!! Yaen kathurae?? Just tell me!!* (Appa, why are you shouting? Why are you shouting??? ...) Naturally my poor appa looked on in utter consternation at his maybe-deranged little daughter. LOL (Yes, it was some time ago)

Dogs are a long-standing tradition in the family. Our dog had pups three days after my mum had me - and she tells me she used to get confused about which babies had been fed - the human one or the canine ones...

I am now wondering why this has become a list of childhood stories instead of random facts. I shall endeavour not to bore whoever reads this.

There is a principal of a college I know of who, looking from a balcony in his office on campus, once told my teachers who were visiting - "All the land rotating is ours."

I have always thought the hero of my first (if ever) novel shall be called 'Adrian'. I then met someone called Adrian - he, his wife and kids were lovely but he wasn't what I had in mind.

Chicken eggs are white in India. They are brown in the UK. Has always intrigued me. Did our chickens colonise them or theirs ours?

Some of my friends still suspect I have a baby female elephant in my backyard with pink clothes on sometimes.

A love note

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I just feel this need to write. Intense, urgent, nameless... UNnegligible. And it is a specific need to write as an act of worship. To pour my heart out on celluloid paper, so to speak, and lay it out as an offering to the single person in the whole entire universe who can always (and that is always) smile away my mood... even when those smiles have tears. I know I sound highly melodramatic - but I'm using all the words I know for a feeling that surpasses them :/ And it is the kind of love that hurts in its intensity... Ever felt it? Happens sometimes, with some people, some of those 'some' people more often than others ;)

Well, David could sing. He could play the harp. I only try to play the guitar. And the piano has given up on me. But I looked for this verse and found it for you...

My heart is stirred with a noble theme
as I recite my verses for the King
my tongue is the pen of a skilful writer...

Except that my keyboard happens to be the tongue of an 'available' singer :D

There are many random things I am sure I will want to waffle about later today. But for now I can't take my mind off how beautiful God is. The Bible says 'We love him, because he first loved us'. And how. And yet, most times that's the best we can say - I love you too. And it is enough because even that love comes from him, "because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit..."

This is probably why the gift of tongues is a really convenient blessing ;O

If you know Him, you know what I'm talking about. But keep looking for Him - He'll find you.

Praise report

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Well, yes, as used by some ministries... But my mum is great now, it seems it was a viral infection and the pain should go soon. And I've submitted the application I was looking to do and VBS is over. I promise to be more detailed and satisfactory soon.

Thank you for praying. I have been offline for a couple of days which explains the unusual delay in my almost-maniacal promptness in replying. It's a real encouragement to see fantastic people happening upon my blog! Love you all loads!

Father, please keep my Shadow well.

Prayer request

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I am asking to pray for my mother. I've just got really worried as she is not too well. And I know it is all only for a little bit and it'll go away, but I can't help crying even as I talk to my friends online! So if you would pray in Jesus' name, please pray.

PDAs

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Yesterday, I had a sudden 'moment of consciousness' (not quite Virginia Woolf though)... Who am I kidding? Love is stronger than death - true. But it is still a choice - yes, even if you are head over heels in love with someone as well as loving them (slight difference there ;D ). Love is an act, and if you don't or cannot show it... you are doing a rubbish job at loving someone.

This brings to mind something I did not think I would blog about. It was a random conversation with my mum about public displays of affection. Many Indians look on it as 'wrong' even. I am a borderline Indian, I suppose :O - I think public displays of affection can be cheesy and stilted and superficial, and many things are meant to be private. Agreed. But, within the bounds of public behaviour codes, it should be a very natural thing. The reason I take this stand is many Indians are quite ashamed and embarrassed by any open affection particularly between spouses... Wouldn't that offend you? That someone didn't want to accept loving you? Quote me right - affection, NOT steaminess :D LOL But public displays of affection (PDAs as I have heard them called) have been around since eternity and the greatest, heart-tugging-est one came about 2000 years ago from a Man who wasn't a man... Yet He was the perfect Man, the ideal from whom any man worth his salt (or woman for that matter) must take their cue. He was honest. He declared Himself. He wooed me when I would have run away and thrown His love back in His face. He doesn't just ask once or twice or even three times, He keeps asking and keeps forgiving. And then, yeah, the PDA I was talking about - He said He'd die for me... and He did. On a cross. In front of a laughing, weeping crowd. Maybe they were laughing at His foolishness. Maybe I did. It was the best thing He could have done. And He did it.

But we do it all the time. We downplay how much we love somebody and then believe our own lies. Imperceptibly at first. And then slowly a moment of consciousness comes - it may not take too long. But the truth is that, for however short a time, we have forgotten the choice to love. To spend time with them. To give of ourselves to them. We break promises and make loopholes to tell ourselves we haven't, not really. When it hurts is when you see that one side of the covenant is constant. So when I keep saying I love Him, but there is more time in my life for nearly everything else... what do I really mean? The message He gets is the message I'm giving. Sure, we talk and discuss every little incident of the day. We make notes to each other about every little moment. I say I love Him - and He means it. I do too, but I forget so often. And because it hurts, even once is too often. But I love Him - my first love - with every bit of me there is to love (or not to love :) ). I couldn't imagine a life without Him. But I know love is also an act, a choice, not just an emotion - and I forget it far too often. Recently I haven't done too well - not that I am very good usually. He brings me to reality always. But let's just say, I have learned the importance of time for the One you love, not just with Him.

So I say again, for the nth time on this blog, Lord Jesus, I am head over heels in love with You - and I am finding it's the right way up :D