HAVE YOU EVER LOVED....?

Have you ever loved someone so much that your heart literally bled with pain?
Have you ever loved someone so passionately yet him could never attain?
Have you ever loved someone so madly that to lose him would be gain?
Have you ever loved someone so badly that you wished you would die?
Have you ever loved someone so truly that all you wanted was his happiness at your expense?
Have you ever loved someone so much that you would not mind losing him?
Have you ever loved someone so deeply that all the pathos you could see in his eyes?
And hope to see fulfilled all his desires?
Have you ever loved someone so madly that to be close to him was your life’s wish?
Even if it could not end in a kiss?
Have you ever loved someone so much that you were willing to sacrifice your desire?
And never ever end up in a mire?
Have you ever loved someone so deeply that you could bear the distance between you two?
And all other contradictions, too!

GETTING UP AND MOVIN' AGAIN

God has been gracious.
They say repeating mistakes is a crime.
I have committed many and I have repeated them, too.
But through all my trials and tribulations, through all my guilt and self- hatred and brokenness, God has been there.
He has nurtured me as a Father would a petulant child.
And I am grateful to the Almighty that he has forgiven and forgotten my past, wiped clean the slate and presented me a pristine new sheet of paper to write my life on.
It was hard going.
When morals clashed, when madness reigned, when passions surged.
It was tough.
When guilt robbed me of inner peace, when my cherished morals were shattered, when my ideals came crashing down.
I have had my fair share of inner demons torturing me.
I have not been immune to gossip, self-condemnation and a burning resentment against God and all mankind.
I have asked the question “why?” a thousand times.
“Why me, God?” I have wailed in despair and shed copious tears.
But then I realized that you learn.
The elements can transform the crudest piece of rock into a glittering diamond.
I can’t say I have attained my ultimate form.
But I have changed, yes.
And all the bitterness, rage and heartbreaks I went through have made me a stronger person who can now comfort others going through similar predicaments.
Maybe God meant it that way.
After all, He is the Great Teacher.
And when a teacher or a parent reproves his student or child, the latter always gains.
It may take ages for him to realize the good that the cane has done him but when he does, there is nothing but gratitude.
Now that, I have been given a new lease of life, I can’t afford to commit a crime.
I can’t afford to repeat my mistakes.
Though even if I do, but return with a contrite heart, my Father remains ever welcoming with open arms.
Bertrand Russell, the famous atheist, once said: “Unless you assume a God, the question of life’s purpose is meaningless.”
What is there to life if there isn’t an “ever after?”
Isn’t everything then futile? All life’s toils and troubles?
But we carry on because we have a sense of the eternal in us.
This life is just a preparation for what comes next.
The Nazi camp survivors confirmed this. Those who survived the worst, most inhumane conditions in concentration camps had a hope that fueled their desire to live and they did not give up.
That hope was God.
As one of them, Corrie ten Boom, said: “If you look at the world you will be distressed, if you look within you will be depressed. But if you look at Christ, you will be at rest!”

LOST

A void lurks before me
I enter the pitch black darkness
So thick you could slice it with a knife
I feel myself and I cannot
I am lost
Seamlessly submerged into the surroundings
I cry out but my voice fails me
My subconscious roves around the corners
Of the black-hole like cave
There is yet a thought, an impulse
Am I still living?
Or am I matter vaporized?
I exist in the crevices of thoughts
I long for a sign, a tangible feel of life and the living
I try to breathe
But I am all air
Nothing exists as me or within me
Nothing exists outside me, too
I am an abyss of thoughts and memories
I travel down a tunnel
There is a flicker of light at the end
I float towards it like wind
Maybe it will revive my being, my substance
Maybe I will regain my former form
But the passage is endless
I can’t reach the end
Suddenly, the darkness turns into a swirling vortex
I am sucked in deeper and deeper
And I am lost forever

A FISTFUL OF SAND

I was sitting by the river, listening to the rapids cascade over boulders and rocks.
A gentle breeze rustled the nearby shrubs and I was in another world.
The setting sun cast a fiery golden glow over the horizon which the water reflected.
I picked up a handful of sand from the river bank and grasped it tightly.
It slipped through my fingers until there was no more left in my fist.
I grabbed another fistful, this time letting the inside of my hand cradle it loosely. It held on.
Maybe this is an apt metaphor for what often happens in our life with loved ones.
Be too possessive, rave and rant for an ounce of their affection and tighten your grip on them till they have no breathing space and they elude you. There is no more love in the relationship. It becomes a source of heartache to both parties.
But give them their own space. Love them but don’t impinge on their freedom. Care for them but don’t suffocate them and you have a wonderful relationship that works both ways.
It took me a long time to realize this. Of course, it involves a certain amount of sacrifice especially if the other person concerned is someone you love or care for deeply but then, it is worth it.
God has set an example. He knocks at the door of our hearts but never forces his way in. That is love.
Selfless love that gives the other the freedom of choice.

GOD WITH ME

I have raved and ranted. I have shed copious tears about what I feel has been unfairly offered to or deprived off me by life. I have gone into depressive mode. I have even been analyzing the prospect of going incommunicado with a few people in my life who have hurt me or at least whom I blame for hurting me. I have been bitter and cynical and sarcastic with my loved ones.
But at the end, I realized it does not pay. It really does not. To sit on your high moral stool and pass judgments and condemn and spit fire and venom or scheming insidiously to hurt those who have betrayed your trust.
There is a book called the Bible. It was written over a period of 1,500 years by at least forty authors including kings, scholars, philosophers, fishermen, poets, statesmen, historians and doctors.
And reading its soothing messages, hearing the Spirit of God speak to me through it, I knew that when we feel weak, it can be a sign of blessings to come.
Jesus Christ, the Man-God sacrificed everything including his life for me on the Cross just so that I could receive God’s grace, forgiveness and be free of my bondages.
People equate living a Christian life with bondage and slavery because they say there are “too many rules”.
But then, there are rules that bind and rules that free.
If you watch a soccer match and there are no rules, no referee, and no markings for the boundaries of the pitch, rest assured chaos will prevail.
But put everything, the correct things in place and soon you have an enjoyable match.
Christianity is something like that. It is not a religion. It is living for God, the only true, omnipresent and omnipotent Creator. And there is always something new to discover each day.
Sometimes, things happen in life which we least expect and we may sooner be in the middle of an island but trusting in God helps us remain calm because he gifts us with precious inner peace.
Even when we are in a dilemma, submitting our problem to him will ultimately take us on the right course.
I have experienced this. I am schizophrenic; I am have been on medication for the last 12 years; my mom and elder brother suffer from the same debilitating disease; my dad confessed to me that he once attempted suicide because of all the domestic pressure (fortunately, he was unsuccessful); I still get attacks; And for the past few months I have been in moral and spiritual crisis with problems at work to boot.
It was no smooth sailing. But just tonight, as I was going through gospel literature, God opened my eyes. And said: “Hey, I am with you and things are not that bad!”
Right, I have a great, cozy job, I have great friends, I have a wonderful, supportive family, I have my own strengths and talents, I have a place of my own, I am independent, I have people who care for me………
So, what was I being so morose and depressed about?
People in life don’t have it easy and for me God has almost presented blessings to me on a platter.
I resolve to rectify my attitude. I resolve to be happy. I resolve to be grateful for every little thing.
Of course, I will not always be bubbling over with joy but then, I will try to remember my Saviour in times of dire need and even in moments of overwhelming prosperity and happiness
I will try to keep the faith. Touchwood.

THE LOSS OF INNOCENCE

Tenderly lovely like a rosebud, her smile was like the blossoms opening up to receive the first rays of sunlight. She had a pixie charm; curly locks, alabaster skin, rosy lips and wide, innocent eyes which could transform from limpid pools of deep pathos to twinkling stars of mischief. Everyone knew she was a girl who had yet to see and experience the world and its wonders and disappointments.
Then the retrogression started once she attained her twenties.
The disillusionments of life overcame her. Her parents divorced when she passed out from college, her brother was struck with a terminal disease and she was soon on the lookout for a job to sustain her broken family.
And then the final blow came in the form of a man whom she fell in love with. He bestowed kisses upon her, whispered sweet nothings into her ears and finally managed to steal her innocence.
Then he left her never to return. The lovely appearance faded slowly. There was no rosiness or charm in her looks anymore. There was no longer any coquetry and mischief in her behavior. She withdrew and withdrew into a shell. She just existed. The outer now hag-like form was all that remained of her.
People say sometimes you can spot her on lonely evenings taking a solitary walk in the forest hiding her face with a shawl and often gazing at the far away horizon or the dawning stars and moon.
I have never seen her but this is a story of the end of innocence, love and goodness in the world that I often rue over.

RUMINATIONS ON AN APPLE TREE

There is an apple tree outside my window.
It is a proud tree with a sturdy trunk covered with whitish brown bark; long, thick branches sprout from the mid-base and taper into thin twigs. The rain often beats down on its jade-green leaves. Clusters of tender leaves in lighter hues of emerald grow at the tips along with the young fruits.
The baby apples are like little round balls of crisp flesh right now, enclosed in light green cover. I often watch the tree from my window and listen to the rustling of its boughs in the breeze.
Today, it has rained and the leaves hold the precious dew drops like a mother cradling her new-born baby. The sky is grey and looks like it is going to shower down on earth again.
I have watched this tree grow since winter when it was nothing but a barren shrub. It was cold every morning and the frost would settle down on the withered plant, rendering it the quaint air of a man old and huddled over with age.
Then, spring came and the tree gained a life of its own. Tender green sprouted from its twigs and soon it was covered with white, fragrant blossoms spotted pink from which the bees and butterflies drank richly. The birds would hop from branch to branch and declare its glory.
Its flowers would scatter in my courtyard or a lone petal would get entangled in the web a spider had spun outside my window pane.
It is a wonderful sight to see the apple tree every once in a while and sip a cup of aromatic tea, contemplating the changes that have come over it.
Soon, the fruits will ripen, turn rosy and sumptuous, and will be harvested.
Then, Autumn will arrive with its winds and a lonely shroud will envelop the tree. The leaves will blow away in the wind, curled up and a golden brown. Maybe the spider web will catch some of them.
Then again it will be accosting the freezing winter with its feathery snowflakes; the surroundings will transform into a mini Ice-land.
I am changing, too with the seasons. And I often wonder whether it is progressive or regressive but the apple tree always revives in me hope of a new spring and the beauty the world holds.