Happy Women's day

Luke 8: 1-3

After this, Jesus traveled about from one town and village to another, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom of God. The Twelve were with him, 2 and also some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases: Mary (called Magdalene) from whom seven demons had come out; 3 Joanna the wife of Chuza, the manager of Herod’s household; Susanna; and many others. These women were helping to support them out of their own means.

Today is women's day and it is important to know that there was at least one thing that only women could do for Jesus- help support his ministry. This required three behaviours from the women.

1.The  women had to travel with Jesus and stay close to Him

They needed to always be with Him. Every move, every town and every stop they had to follow Him.

2. The women had to support Jesus' Ministry without being asked for.

There is no evidence that Jesus or His disciples asked the women for anything. Without being asked they took care of food, water, other supplies and travel needs. Always seeking to proactively know what the Lord wanted them to do. Even he seemed helpless on the cross, they stayed near him.

3. The women did not focus on any parts of Jesus'ministry that brought them attention. 

When the 5000 were fed they were not the ones distributing the food. When the blind man was healed they were not the ones asking questions about his sins and the sins of his parents. They were not at the Garden of Gethsemane where the disciples fell asleep.  When the last supper was shared they were not present at the table. 

Perhaps as women we are called to a ministry of being invisible yet quintessential. Surely our Saviour desires that we stay close to Him.Our Saviour wants us to know his heart more than all else.  

Happy Women's day

 Good Morning, Indeed!

Why is this morning so very special?

It does not change my horrible yesterday.

It does not remove last night’s ordeal.

Does the rising of the sun change anything?

The  troubles of yesterday will haunt my today.

The birdsong of dawn alters not a single thing.

Alas the sun rises, and the sun sets, day after day.

Bringing no new hope, no fresh joy along its way.

But if the Sun of righteousness rises on me today.

Then my morning is truly special.

His Spirit removes the horror of yesterday.

His love quietens me, I forget the night’s ordeal.

His forgiveness for me changes everything.

The  troubles of yesterday do not haunt my today.

The birdsong of dawn has me singing and praising- and

New mercies, new hope, new joy all come my way.

 ஒரு மொழியில் சிந்தித்து மற்றொன்றில் பேசுவது

" அம்மா ஹாக்கி ஆடையை கழுவ வேண்டும் நாளைப் போட்டி இருக்கிறது" என்றான் என் மகன். "அடேய்  துவைக்க வேண்டும் என்று சொல்லடா" என்றேன். "இந்தியாவில் பொங்கல் சமயத்தில் சக்கர குச்சி கிடைக்கும் தானே" என்றான் என் மகன் "அடேய் அது கரும்பு" என்றேன் நான். தாயம் ஆடுகையில் "அம்மா இது உங்க போ" என்றான் "உங்க ஆட்டம்" என்று சொல்லணும்பா என்றேன். என் மகன் wash, sugarcane, your go என்ற ஆங்கிலச் சொற்களை அப்படியே மொழியாக்கம் செய்திருந்தான்.  அவன் பேசுவதோ தமிழில் அவன் சிந்திப்பதோ ஆங்கிலத்தில்.

சிந்திக்க ஆரம்பித்தேன். கிறிஸ்துவின் மொழியில் சிந்திக்க ஆரம்பித்தால் அவர் மொழியை தமிழாக்கம் செய்து பேச முடியுமோ? கிறிஸ்துவின் மொழி எது? 

இரு வாரத்தைகளே நினைவுக்கு  வந்தன. "என்று எழுதியிருக்கிறதே" எழுதப்பட்ட வசனமே கிறிஸ்துவின் மொழி.  பேதுரு  இதை அறிந்திருந்தார் "  ஒருவர் பேசும் கொடையைப் பெற்றிருந்தால், அவரது பேச்சு கடவுளுடைய வார்த்தைகளைப் போல் இருக்கட்டும்." 1 பேதுரு 4:11.

இயேசுவைப் போல பேச வேண்டும் என்றால் அவரைப் போல் சிந்திக்க வேண்டும். பவுல் சொல்கிறார் "  உண்மையுள்ளவைகளெவைகளோ, ஒழுக்கமுள்ளவைகளெவைகளோ, நீதியுள்ளவைகளெவைகளோ, கற்புள்ளவைகளெவைகளோ, அன்புள்ளவைகளெவைகளோ, நற்கீர்த்தியுள்ளவைகளெவைகளோ, புண்ணியம் எதுவோ, புகழ் எதுவோ அவைகளையே சிந்தித்துக் கொண்டிருங்கள்." பிலிப்பியர் 4:8. சங்கீதக்காரன், பவுல் கூறிய குணங்கள் யாவும் வேதத்திற்கே பொருந்தும் என்கிறான் "அநேகமாயிரம் பொன் வெள்ளியைப்பார்க்கிலும், நீர் விளம்பின வேதமே எனக்கு நலம்." சங்கீதம் 119:72.

வேதத்தின் வழியே சிந்தித்தும், வேதத்தையே சிந்தித்தும் வாழ்ந்தால் கிறிஸ்துவின் மொழியை இந்நூற்றாண்டின் மொழியில் மொழியாக்கம் செய்து பேசலாம் நாம். 

Far away friends

'Happy Birthday Hannah!! ', said the was the voice of a friend, she has been a friend since I was four. Memories of our friendship are not always candid or vivid but conversations with her are always refreshing, and joy- evoking. All through the day many other friends called, friends I had not seen in decades. Friends who lived miles away from me, who had not the faintest idea, about my current hairstyle, the nature of my current job, choice of clothes or footwear. 'Now how did I make friends with her?' , I thought about each one of them. 

Friendship is the strangest of  relationships ! Surely 'make' is a verb we use only in the context of friendship and not any other relationship. As we became friends, my friends and I made ourselves accept and love each other. Much went on within each of us without us having to talk about it. Friends helped me know my insufficiency, my failings, and my weaknesses, by hardly talking about them. Friends encouraged, consoled and appreciated generously, without me asking for it.

When physical distance separated, the bond grew firmer. There was no anguish like the separation from a lover, but calm confidence that we will continue to be friends.  No desperation to talk things out but, pure determination to keep in touch. After years of silence, when a telephone call reaches me from across the oceans, out come the words, smiles, tears and frustrations and fears. An hour or less of chatting, arguing, and sometimes even quarreling  bridges the distance of time and miles and make me feel like my friend has walked beside me every single day of my life. 

Perhaps every relationship must be a friendship for it to stand the test of time and distance. Oh! that I may be a friend to mum and dad, sis and son and husband and indeed my creator itself. For He is unseen but ever present, unheard but ever speaking, far away but ever near, ever listening, ever loving, ever longing that i'd be His friend.

Thatha

You are in my thoughts everyday.
My son hears about you everyday.
That you are no longer here does not hurt.
But not being able to talk to you does hurt.
Every milestone, I wish- you could know.
May be you do- and that I do not know.
Birthdays, I suppose dont matter to you now.
Does anything matter at all to you now :).
Your birthday went by yesterday-Bringing to me
Found memories of you all day.

Oh common one

How do you grow where no one plants.
Why do you flower where no one looks.
How do you survive where no one waters.
Why do you live taking all sorts as neighbours.
How do you smile so sweetly when no one cares.
Why do you chose to grow on roofs and sidewalks.
How do you manage to hold your head up high.
When everyone ignores you and passes you by.

My Child

All things  to you are interest arousing.
Be it morning, noon, or evening.
The umteen number of questions you ask.
Make answering them quite a task.
How you love to question every convention.
How sweetly worded your every confession.
The excitement through the day you cannot keep.
Yet at night how deep and undisturbed your sleep.

Choose to be happy !

When we have been wrong and for it punished.
We can endure, but choose to be happy.
When we've been manipulated and deceived.
We can feel cheated, but choose to be happy.
When we have sinned and truly repent.
We can receive pardon and choose to be happy.
When we are constantly jeered-at and insulted.
We can ignore, and choose to be happy.
When we are in pain because of hurt or disesase.
We can writh in pain, but choose happy.
When we are oppressed and bullied.
We can protest, but choose to be happy.

For,

To be unhappy is to hate ourselves and all else.
To be unhappy is to feel bound by all things.
To be unhappy is to be desperate for happiness.
To be happpy is to love ourselves in everyway.
To be happy is to feel bound by nothing.
To be happy is to cope and not be desperate.
To be sure God loves us and with us will stay.

Mrs.Thatcher died yesterday, Thatha

Its been five years you know, since you left here. Do they keep a count of time and years where you have gone? I won't know till I find out for myself, will I? A lot has happened in my own life since you left. Some you'd have loved to have witnessed, others not so pleasant, but nothing has happened that would have crushed you. I miss you much, but in a way I cant talk about or express. Almost, every week I stop at something and say to myself, 'Now what would thatha have had to say about that?'.

Around the world much has happened since you left. Oh! how you would have hated what is happening in Syria, Mali, and Egypt. The number of hours you would have sat at your radio and poured over The Hindu to know about the wars around the world. Fidel Castro withdrew from public life, Gaddafi and Hugo Chavez died, the EU is struggling, Obama became president for a second term, the Roman Catholic church and the Anglican Church got  new leaders. I'd have loved to have chatted about all these with you.But maybe the dementia of your last few years would have meant not reading enough and not keeping in touch with the current news.  Yeah...I'm sure you'd have been very vivid about WW II than Syria because your short term memory failed badly.

Something happened yesterday, five years after you left, almost to the day. About this you'd definitely have had something to say and i'd have loved to hear. Mrs. Margaret Thatcher the Iron Lady died yesterday. She was 87, and very ill  for the last 10 years of her life. Parts of the world simply loved her, the Americans, the Russians, and the Indians too. But Europe hated her and so did more than half of the UK, the rest of UK adored her. People are still so divided in their opinions about her. The BBC, the various TV channels, and newspapers had reels to say about her and I listened to almost every one of them. Yet, if you were here you'd have told me something about her that all the newsmedia in the world has not. And I am sad Thatha that i cant hear you today. 

Can't wait for Spring

Nothing now is green but the lawn.
All the trees and plants look forlorn.
No birds that happily chirp or sing
Nothing but pigeons that cannot sing.

No colours but white, blue and brown.
Colours in the sky and of branches barren.
No squirrels, magpies or even a raven.
Nothing does our moods and hearts liven.

When will we see beautiful hues.
Budding flowers and sprouting leaves.
When will we hear the birdie's song.
Soon it will spring, the wait isn't long.

Give me Sunshine

Not the rain that pours and floods.
Not the drizzle that dampens spirits.
Not the overcast that gloomily looms.
Not the cloud that comes and goes.
Not the white snow that falls in flakes.
Not the fog that blinds my eyes.
But the sunshine that brightens-I ask.
For in it, my soul truly delights.

Were you there at your funeral?

They said you were the best of the best.

They said you were so full of life.

They said you touched many a life.

They said you were loved by all the rest.

They said you died much before your time.

They came by the hundreds to see your face.

They came with loads of the loveliest flowers.

They spoke of you in such charming rhyme.

No one dared to criticise you.

No one said anything bad.

No one spoke of flaws in you.

No one was there, that was not sad.

Your mum and dad were very grieved,

Your siblings- of you were very proud.

No one was present who was not bereaved.

No one was discourteous, impolite or loud.

Oh! How I wish you’d known,
So many for you would mourn.

Oh! How I wish you'd heard-their words

So sweet, when you had lived.

Syria

Syria, synonymous with suffering.
Shelling, killing, people wailing.
None working for healing.
The world simply watching.

People fleeing,-as refugees living.
Neighbouring nations never welcoming.
Morning, noon and evening.
Pass on without meaning.

RELATIONSHIPS

Some we make as we enter the world,

For a while they remain our world.

Then they start to twist and turn,

They're not pleasant, we soon learn.

Some we make inadvertently in childhood,

Few, we keep at later times, rest we shed.

Some we work hard at making and keeping,

Later we wonder if they are worth keeping.

Very few we make based on ‘nothing’ really,

Expecting, demanding and wanting nothing.

Them that accept you just as you are –really,

Listening and reprimanding yet never judging.

These stand the test of time and grow,

Deeper and firmer when you hit a low.

Lean on these in confusing times,-and ignore

The ones that faded over the times.

Million Dollar questions from my son

1. Why do all the people in a family have to have the same second name?
2. Why do most of my teachers have colours for second names Mr. White, Mrs. Black, Mr. Brown...?
3. You are pretty good at teaching me stuff, why do I need to go to school?
4. Did dad marry you because he liked you better than any another woman he had known?
5. If video games are not good for children, why do they make them for children?
6. Why are you and your sister so different from each other, having had the same set of parents!?
7. When will I get to sport a moustache?
8. Why are animal-fathers so irresponsible leaving the mothers to fend for the young-ones?
9. Why does everyone have to have a navel?
10. Are babies in mummies' tummies covered with food that the mothers eat? I tell him about the special bags mummies have called Uterus, and comes the next question.
11. Why do dad's have no special bags to keep babies in their tummies?
12. Can I change my wife's name to Hannah Margaret? I really like you a lot
13. Do you think I'll need to be as firm as you are with me, with my son?
14. Dad, why did you choose to marry mum and not your brother's wife?
15. Why are ice and snow white if they come from water which is colourless? I tell him, that when many transparent layers are piled one on top of another they seem white, and comes the next question
16. If transparent layers piled together look like white,is white really a colour?
17. When we built a house do you think we can name it 'Heaven'?
18. I am quite confused, can you help me decide whether to become a Barber, a Fire man or Usain Bolt when I grow up?
19. Hums a tune for a while and says, Shall we send that to London to be called the official tune for Paralympics?
20. Looks at an Audi car and says, they should have added one more circle to make it look like the Olympic symbol, don't you think so?
21. Do you know ma, with just a little lip-stick on, you look lovelier than me?
22. That old man must be million year old, is it not?
23. On the airplane, if we fell down,we'd die, but that's ok because i am going to go to heaven, will  u be coming ma?

Ah! to love like a child

It was a fine Tuesday evening and the sun had chosen to come out on Belfast. My son and I put on our shoes and coats, to go to a house prayer meeting. I wondered how he was going to handle the next two or three hours. He will be surrounded by adults and none of them will be speaking our mother tongue. One thing that frustrates my son is meeting Indians in Belfast and having to speak to them in English. The thoughts in my head were too cumbersome to delve in.So I shut them out told myself ' I will keep him company'.

When we reached the house we waited with our friends for the guests. The guests were a minister and his family. So we looked forward to a time of chit-chatting,prayer, bible-reading and eating.  My heart leapt for joy when in the party of guests was a 4 year-old girl Veronica. My son was thrilled, he did not have to be stuck with adults always asking him his name and about his school. 'Say. Hi ! Hanniel to our welcome surprise Veronica' I said.' Hi!' he said and smiled. The little girl hid behind her mother, as we sat down to talk, Veronica refused to open her mouth and stay stuck to her mothers arms. 'Why wont she talk', my son asked. 'She is shy, you should be doing the talking now' I said.  He crept next to Veronica and started talking.

In minutes they were chasing each other, laughing, talking and left the adults to ourselves. After two hours, it was time for Veronica to leave. The parting-from-people time was similar to walking-together time, it meant questions. Why does he have to leave shortly? why can she not stay at our place? why can we not go to their house right away, why wait for another day? when will I meet her again? Then when the questions had run out the tears came. 'Please son, no crying please I' said. No more words, Hanniel turned his back on the leaving guests, a very stunned tear-less Veronica and waved bye -bye.

When the tears were gone 'why did you cry?' I asked. 'Because I dint want her to go' he said. 'And now...' I stopped there. 'She had to go.... and I am feeling better already' my son said. I envied him.
To be able to love so dearly, so fully, so really in such a short span of time. To part in sadness, but let go willingly, to remember so fondly, to recover so rapidly and to speak about it so openly. That is to love like a child. 

Belfast

'Belfast! Belfast! Got to have a belief in.....you can try, you can try to tell the world the reason why.... Belfast Belfast', that was the  BoneyM song I woke up to every morning at 6.15 am when I was 10 years old. My parents played the ABBA and Boney M beats every morning until 6.25 am, after which they switched to the radio. I did not care where in the world Belfast was and why it was the theme of a song, I just woke up and got ready to go to  school.

I learnt best at school the things that were not explicitly taught at school. My marks were always poor, in sports and extracurricular activities I was at best graded 'average'. But I learnt at school, that to be a part of this world you did not have to be an expert in science or maths but had to be aware of the things that went on in the world. So I spent time pouring over the Readers' Digest and  newspapers, and once again I read about Belfast.The Senn Fien, the IRA, the protestant order of Orange Men, and Gerry Adams stood out in every article I read in the early 1990s. There was news of the Irish peace process and the many acts of violence that disrupted it. Around 1997, news about Belfast was not really the focus of the India media. I heard nothing about Belfast on the news and  my mind was full of Sierra Leon, Rwanda, Burkino Faso and Congo

Several years later, after many jobs and marriage the opportunity came to travel away from India.The desire to see the worlds I had heard so much about was kindled and my wish list grew. Wishes need to be worked on and prayed for!!  A few years later we landed in Belfast. Belfast was beautiful, small, laid-back enough for us, friendly, and struggling to leave its troubled past behind.

Week after week we stepped out of our house to discover something wonderful about this city we had only known for its violence. This was the city that gave the world C.S.Lewis, The Titanic, Gulliver's travels and even had a leaning tower of its own- The Albert's clock!!. The numerous parks and museums, the mountainous terrain, the beaches near by. the excellent public transport system, the stunning city hall and parliament buildings, and an ever growing international community-all took us by surprise and thrilled us. The numerous active Bible-teaching churches were another joy to discover and associate with. We fell in love with Belfast and are proud to call it home- well at least for the present. 

  

The Dream that was not supposed to come true

It was the summer of 1990, schools were closed and we could visit uncles and aunts or have them over in our house. My sister and I walked down the Cowley Brawn  road in Coimbatore talking to an uncle who was visiting. The conversation was about 'dreams', the wildest ones and the ones that we were sure would never come true. I dont quiet remember my sister's or my uncle's dreams, but I remember telling them ' I heard on the World Service of the BBC that the Greenwich observatory will be closed down this year. My dream that will never come true is... to be able to put my feet on either side of the prime meridian in Greenwich and say I am now on both the Eastern and the Western hemispheres of the world'. My uncle smiled wisely and my sister went on to state her dream never to be.

Years went by and I happily forgot all about my wild dream. I visited London in the summer of 2007 and felt like Wordsworth as I stood on the westminister bridge. I heard G.B.Shaw's references to Piccadiliy and Charing Cross as I walked those places. I clicked pictures of Nelson in Trafalgar square and I stared at 10 Downing street and the Buckingham Palace. I even went to the Tower bridge but Greenwich never crossed my mind.

A couple of days ago I visited London again, went to all the places I had seen before and in addition saw the Crown Jewels.  I saw the Kohinoor diamond which most Indians dream of seeing.Then  took a boat ride to realise my wild dream. I went to Greenwich, for  in 1998 the observatory came back to were it was for 200 years after two attempts to move it elsewhere. So I put my feet on either sides of the Prime Meridian and said ' I am on the eastern and western hemispheres of the world at the same time'.

My dream  that never was supposed to come true, came true : )

Away from Bangalore(written on 13th of May 2011)

Exactly 10 days from today, I will leave Bangalore for good (well one can never be certain of that) and will miss a whole lot of people and places. The calm of the ECC road, the romance of the outer circle of whitefield with its ancient houses, the solace of whitefield memorial church, fountains in the whitefield park under which my son and I giggled as the water splashed. I will miss the whitefield market with my favourite butcher, fruit seller, vegetable vendor,grocery store and medial store.

I will miss the little sunbird that built her nest im my house, the hundreds of eagles that loomed over the Holy cross school ground, my son's teachers, my son's friends and the tales they told me. I will miss the ladies who took care of my son in his day care and taught him Kannada, the smiling faces of children that played with him everyday.

I will miss the many many old people I have met and made friends with in whitefield, the ladies from the Cheshire home, the ones that waved as they walked their evening walks.I will miss the families that took me under their roof in my times of lonely sojourn in whitefield, thier sons, thier laughter, their food, their love. 

I will miss ITPL mall, the Kadamba hotel, the Piazza hut and the ice cream parlour,the many team lunches, formal and informal, the ITPL christian fellowship, the Sabre office, the tea room and the tea time conversations with good friends.

On your death anniversary

More days will soon go by
And so will the years role by.
More folks the family will have
Smart,bright and surely brave.

Your children may remember you year after year
The grandchildren may talk of you here and there
You will soon be a memory- fading away
But a little of you will live in me alway.