W-H-Y

I don't know, Lord, I don't know.

Why quicken something in my heart? I have obeyed except for once. I have obeyed even when it's hard and confusing. Except of course those times I forget I need to know what you want!.... Except, except, except. But why when I have obeyed, it still has not come through? Why! What did they do that I haven't done?

Like - why was the nun raped in Orissa this week? Why was the one most precious thing to her, precious because she'd given it to you, taken away from her? Why was she allowed to eat dust before her assailants while the police watched on?! Like - why? Why her, why that, why now? I ask forgiveness for ever letting the thought cross my mind that she 'deserved it less' than anyone else. No, that is not my point... Just... Sometimes it's as if we're clinging to you hardest, and you train our fingers to cling even closer. Is it because we - you and I - get closer and US is the most important thing there is? Or is it that you know something about my reaction to the blessing I ask for that I can't imagine?

Probably both.

God, I hurt. And I love you. So much.

And yes, my prayer still is - you. You're all I want.

He happens

Okay, okay... maybe this isn't my story to tell. But I just want to say that God's amazing about knowing your needs. I have this lovely friend who was telling me about what God said to her the other day.

It was at a prayer meeting - the kind you've probably all been to or can well imagine. And here she was, feeling entirely out of it and asking God what had gone wrong. BM loves him so she wasn't too happy about status quo. Understandable.

And then God happened :). Like he sits her down in the middle of the meeting and in her completely silent spirit He tells her so she can hear: 'You know what? I invented doughnuts!' See, doughnuts are a favourite and she needed to laugh and she needed to see the person of God again to heal her stupid disconnect.

God happens.

Like I was biking through a barrier that I hadn't been able to pass, for nearly every day a month, without stopping and walking through or irrepairably falling from my bike! And I was having a really hard day. I was scared of my supervisors. So inadequate with everything. I hadn't had a brilliant meeting with the profs. And I had no idea what to do. I didn't know where the next day was coming from...

And it was raining. Conveniently. So the road was pretty empty and I was pretty broken. I cried. The tears sort of poured. And I figured - whatever, no one would know if they were tears or rain. I was crying a bit like the biblical Hannah too - and the random couple of passers-by looked, only to see me quickly shut my mouth and open again in a loud hum as if I were in the middle of song! And soon I arrived at the famous bike barrier.

And God says: 'Don't fall'.

Gobsmacked, I just sorta gasped and said 'Oh wow, thanks, Lord! You've just made my day so much better'. Obviously I didn't mean it at all, and I knew He knew. And I was sorta madly glad. So I carried on: 'I can't even cross this silly bike barrier without falling and you want me to do a DPhil and settle in and work?! And now you just... I dunno if I didn't know you better, it almost sounds like you're rubbing it in... But I trust you. And if you want me to learn another lesson today, then I know I probably need it'.

And God says again: 'Don't fall'. Quite clearly.

So I cast up a look at him, not in anger but more like a weepy-read-my-eyes-look, and hit the pedal.

And cross that barrier perfectly without stopping or slowing down for the first time in my life. I have never fallen since, with my eyes on Him.

And then God explained... 'cos He figured I was gonna take some time to work this one out... "Phil 4:13. You can do all things through Christ who gives you strength. You can do it but as long as it's my strength. Always. Keep your eyes on me. And you really can do it."

I didn't stop crying as I rode back in the rain. But I couldn't stop smiling either. Or laughing.

Helllooooooooo

No, grace is not a pretty picture. It involves the biggest messes humankind can imagine and then implement. But grace is beautiful. Like when you look in the mirror and you see that spot or blemish, the disproportionate features or the kinky hair or the need for a haircut or the need for some make-up or a need for something to take the tiredness away.... and still God looks into your naked eyes, still God sighs: It is good.

That is the kind of picture grace paints. Not the kind of glossed-over fashion magazine product. No, not pretty at all. But beautiful.

Would you believe it? I am still taking my time to get over whatever happened to produce my previous couple of posts. I believe it is a people I do not understand, and yet and yet and yet - I understand a few of them from that place. In a few, I saw sparks of recognition. I believe God is teaching me something very permanent from all this. I still have 'romantic notions' as Mrs Lynde would say if I were Anne. But there may not ever be a Gilbert - at least from my point of view down here. I learn too much from people and people learn too much from me, I suppose. I don't know what God wants in the area - so this is very human prognostication... But there has to be someone who is sure enough of what God wants to wait for me to be sure of God and of him - boy, that will take some patience! I mean I need to be sure enough of it all to let myself love. It's probably a shortcoming, but it keeps me safe and I'll stick with it. And only then would I be willing to consider beginning such a relationship - and you read and hear about people like that, but it will probably never be that way with me... particularly if it is true that opposites attract! LOL. I love logic, btw. So I still haven't fallen in love with anyone else since I was 10. And I've never fallen out of love with Him since either.

Meanwhile I am also a bit concerned about my studies. With all this it has taken a beating. I don't think such a thing has ever happened before. But I don't lay it entirely at this door. I think the main problem has been that as my supervisor put it: "We've gone about this the wrong way". And that observation came a whole term too late unfortunately. So I am left with the beginnings of ideas of what to do just coming up. And basic books I still feel I ought to read. And a whole assignment and a half completely un-upto-scratch!!! I was in this position at the beginning of my Master's thesis and I had three months to go. I now have one and a half and need to be slightly higher than a Master's level to sufficiently impress. I have come to the conclusion that 'worry' is the wrong word to use. I believe I can do it - I know how in a candle-light rather than a lightning-flash kind of way. But I know that I cannot do it. If that makes any sense.... I know that God is the one who will fight this battle for me. I am also greatly indebted to my parents and aunts. And often fight the feeling that I have let them down. But suddenly light shines - and I know that I am doing the best possible if I am doing what God wants!!!

In fact, it may not be the problem I think at all. And may be due to Oxford's special ways of dealing with teaching and guiding. From what I hear, everyone's just as worried and has been clueless, and they have not been living in 55G, have they? LOL. I miss P&ST and the Ms at church, especially J. She's become very dear to me and I know that she is growing up and things may change. I know that I might move from the place depending on how it goes. But I wish loyalty to 'A' church did not come before loyalty to God's family. That remains to be proven. But Bangor has stood me in good stead and made it very clear that I will always be family! So, I am more than blessed.

I have both my parents in a strong godly family, two aunts-like-parents, and then these surrogate mums and dads in Bangor and a grandmum for good measure!!! More people to tell me off - true.

For AB

Here I am humbled by the love that you give
Forgiven so that I can forgive
Here I stand, knowing that I'm your desire
Sanctified by glory and fire


I rarely ever quote lyrics from somewhere else... perhaps it's pride. I think 'I write my own love songs to God' and I quote from the Bible. But now and again, a song written by people desperately in love with Jesus.

A long time ago, it seems now, I wrote a post when I was really tired. I'm tired now. And - completely incidentally - sleep-deprived. But I am also tired of ranting. I think I give so much love, sometimes I give more so obviously that it hurts... but I find my levels for myself are so often broken by people who surprise me (amma, AB (you made me think of this in the first place just now), CK, VP). But then you look and you find youI have always known the greatest love of all. It has always been yours. No amount of distraction can take His eyes off you.

But I know also that so often I look away. When Jesus looks at me, He knows I will turn away, be hurt by other things. And then in a heart-rending moment like this He reminds you that nothing and no one can make you laugh or cry like His love can. More fool me that I forget it.

S'more Growin' Up

God loves me. So. Much. And every time I naively forget, He lets me know in no uncertain terms. Sometimes I forget to let myself be hungry enough for him that it can turn my world upside down and cause me to cry with an inside-pain that fills me with joy.

Having got that outta my system, I am only back after a couple of weeks but it could be a decade judging from at least the amount I think I've grown. I've learnt that within the church we can all be faulty and I've learnt that while I can hold onto the fairy tales and the goodness, not everyone wants to. And that that's OK. Really. I've learnt how some people can be racist - and that it can happen even when they are Christian. I've learnt instead of raging at the injustice, I can laugh at it. I need to rage too - but I need to know that I can make a choice of reactions, and that the choice need not always be the same. I've learnt how people can forget that they've been wrong. I've learnt how I can't always forget that about myself or about others and need to. Mainly about myself. Because when I go to heaven and order two cafe lattes and have that chat with God, it will probably go something like this:

Me: Jesus, you know on the 17th of May, at 11 o' clock...
God: Hang on, which May??
Me: 2008, of course. Well, anyway, you know what I said to Claire that must have really hurt her. I want to explain___
God: (interrupting and laughing pretty thunderously) Subiksha, I have no idea what you're on about!!!

In case, you're wondering - nothing was said that hurt Claire on that date and Claire is one of my best friends atm and I've shared the joke with her. However it is quite likely and easily verifiable that I have done and probably will do pretty damnable things. ANd God has actually chosen to forget all of them. Already.

So yes, I've grown up (although AB insists I grew down!). I didn't want to, and I hope to God I'm not all done yet as I quite like the Disney movies and the naivete. Especially the naivete. It's comforting. Although it's not that pleasant when you're shocked that Indian girls get drunk, Christians smoke, 'friends' can actually get jealous, Christians flirt not-so-harmlessly. Don't get me wrong - I am shocked at all of this and probably excuse it conveniently in myself. But yes, when it's there, the naivete is comforting.

I love you always!!

xxx

PS Hello, amma, BO, SD, Grafx, Ta'fxkz, DA, Skinny, Switchblade, LT and everyone else!!

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

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.

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!!

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.

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.

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.

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.