We dont see the enemy, but the enemy is real. Pray. Fast. - Pastor Pradeep.

What more in the name of love?

One man come in the name of love, So sing U2 ,so I believe.
So we Know to be true.

One man come in the name of love
One man come and go
One man come, he to Justify
One man to Overthrow
In the name of Love, What more in the name of Love?

One man was betrayed with a kiss. You know how Judas betrayed Yeshu..
He must have felt So bad. Or did we assume that He being God, must have hardly been affected by that betrayal? Forget all the spitting and stoning and flogging and crucifying. Did we imagine that He would have taken the betrayal coolly, like how the cool poker-faced heroes of Hollywood react at the most terrifying and hurting circumstances?

Did we imagine Him to be a face, cool and set in stone?
Or was it hurting within Him ,just like any slob here on earth would hurt?

Hmm.. Yeshu, listen up man.. I see your followers here on this earth, going through hurts and insults, just like you did. All in the name of love.
Today they smile, your friends smile in tears Yeshu.
Tomorrow they die. Stop smiling ,you. Do you know what it means to face death at all?

Anyway, Yeshu.. they , your friends, your followers do the smallest things to leave your mark behind, out of love. What mark do they leave behind?
A cross in a graveyard. Or maybe they leave Love behind?

Why man Yeshu. What more in the name of Love will you and your friends do?
Through all of my heavy fire doubts and all of my cynicism..
What gets to me is your freaking love.
And your friends too, ok. Not those friends of yours who are caught in mind traps, time warps ,as busy judging as i am.Those friends of yours who love in the smallest ways possible.
They Rock Yeshu bhai..
But they rock at a cost to themselves Yeshu..

Why man.. What more will you all do in the name of love?

Found a dying poem. And it's so true.

God, though to Thee our psalm we raise
No answering voice comes from the skies;
To Thee the trembling sinner prays
But no forgiving voice replies;
Our prayer seems lost in desert ways,
Our hymn in the silence dies.

- Gerard Manley Hopkins

Hometown : ..................not of this world...............

On the last 2 journeys i have been on, it dawned on me that i was enjoying being in the train lesser and lesser.

i loved the scenery outside, only for shorter whiles now.
i did NOT like sleeping on the berth at all, it is so uncomfortable sometimes that only if i was well-fed or too tired could i fall asleep.

i disliked interacting with the crowd, but liked talking to lonely people like me more.
And i solemnly state that i have no inclination towards using the toilets in the train. (i Know, don't even Talk about it !!)

i did write, once upon a time, that whenever i get into a train, i feel like i am at home.
What i wrote then was true. And No, i didnt love the toilets then. i hated the toilets in the train even then.

As i see it, what has happened is the trap of a pleasure becoming a habit.

As a pleasure repeats itself in life, the ability to enjoy it at the same intensity decreases. (i read about this first in The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis).

This truth shows itself in another form in all sorts of addictions; at the beginning of the addiction, you need to have more of the stuff you are addicted to, to maintain the same levels of pleasure you derive from that addiction (it can be anything, any addiction- shopping, speeding, comics, pornography, food.. the list is endless).

So was this true with my case? I think not.

Did i need more train journeys? Surely not. i desired to gaze upon the Goa coastline, to get the blast of the breeze from the backwaters in the Konkan, to play with the wind and the rain, all these things,yes.
All true, but i really didnt like the journeys so much.
But was everything losing its shine?
Or was i just too tired?

Aww Shucks..
Do i not belong here too?

ohh ohh..
Why didn't my joy last on the journey? It used to last! How did my happiness become so ephemeral?
Why do i enjoy lying down on my side-berth, staring at the stars and the Milky Way in the night? Where did this new passion of looking at stars and the moon by the sea spring from?

And as i think of this, my train of thoughts stops at the Bible station.
Shucks.. is the Bible that true?
Do i really don't belong here? Am i a citizen of a different hometown? A stranger,just passing through?


Like that song by U2, is it a place 'Where the Streets have No Name' ?

Why do i feel that i am on a journey to eternity? When did i become a pilgrim?

Whatever i feel..my feelings need not be true. But since i know the truth, let the truth be known. Here you go Hometown...


Hometown : Not of this world.

Here i end my battle. And begin another one.

Remember my battle?
Yeah.

It is good that i am on my knees. At the battlefield. Right where the enemy lies vanquished.

The soldier often dares to think that he has been betrayed by the Commanding Officer.
The soldier often dares to think that the Commanding Officer likes to pull cruel jokes at his men's expense.
The soldier thus continues to make living difficult for himself,in the face of victory.
Victory which, well, unconveniently proves that the C.O cared a lot.

And strange at that, when the soldier looks back at the battle, it now seemed that the C.O cared more for what the soldier went through than for where the battle was headed.

The C.O would rather lose the battle but gain the soldier's furnace.
But as the soldier stands victorious, battle-scarred, on his knees,
Hugging what brother is alive and next to him.

Deliverance.
At the right time, the sun rose.
At the right time, the C.O arrived.
At the right time,the soldier was salvaged.

At the right time, the soldier got the chance to thank the C.O.

The Picture below is called - " Lest We Forget. "
Lest i forget His deliverance.

Here i began this battle.

Le it be Known
that i never deserved to be fighting this war in the first place.
that when given a choice, i dropped my weapon ,turned around and ran.
that i ran when many others were banking on me to lead at the frontline,while they provided covering fire. i ran, abandoning them all.

that when i ran, i ran right into the arms of the Commanding Officer.

that the C.O did look upon the Loyal traitor with full knowledge of his crimes.
that the C.O gave me a new suit of armour, better weapons and assigned me to another location on the battlefield.
that both the C.O and me knew that nothing given to me would help me fight until i gave the fight everything.
that i fought every single day and yet jotted down my excuses everyday.
that i was tempted to betray them all even when air-support was provided.
that i actually dared to say that i wasn't good enough to live out the war.

that i lay down in the trench on that last night of battle.
that i was at the mercy of the C.O who could choose to abandon me to the enemy troops in return for my treachery.
that i felt sleepy when i was supposed to be looking for fellow soldiers and pray for deliverance.

That as the night turned darkest,
i realised that i had still not fired my best shot
i realised that i still shook before pulling the trigger of my SLR
i realised that i didn't become the Soldier i wanted to be.

i realised why i needed my C.O out here.
Whether it was pitch black or blinding light
i could not battle without Him.

Onam musings and vagaries.

What does Onam mean to me?
In brief, it means gooood food.

hmm,
It means pouring love from my family, inspite of my mistakes and priorities. Lots of Grace.

Back to food again:
It means a lot of very delicious food from the mummy,grandma and Co.
(And if you have never been to an Onam feast, try showing up at one. The sheer variety of curries and pickles is bound to stupefy you! )

It means enduring unbearable music at unbearable volumes.
Onam means that you can,atleast in my neighbourhood,play popular Tamil hits(You can identify these songs by the sudden feeling of wanting to bury your head/vomiting that accompanies them.), Eminem, 50Cent, Black Eyed Peas and Mind-Numbing Malayalam numbers that sound as if they were composed atleast 150 years ago.

And all this, at volumes which ensure that people in Kanyakumari can listen to what is being played in Trivandrum.

I have enjoyed the sounds of fighter jets taking off and the rude bellowing of peddlers in trains better than the music played here. I mean , have you ever tried reading the Bible with the Black-eyed Peas yelling " My Humps- My Humps, My Humps My Humps! " in the background at atleast 100decibels?

I may sound like a pious and irritated octogenarian now, but the many of the youth here seem to have no more purpose than have a rolling good time playing their funky(!) music and doing their strutting up and down.
(Hey , i can be a good judge !)

Hmm.. on second thoughts, not all tamil songs they played were bad ok? Some of them were quite lovely; SOME of them, i said!

Thats the best part about such trying experiences. There is till something good and lovely thrown in with the bad and ugly. Further proof for the existence of God?

ok, i will spoil this post for you.
But then again, what WAS the point of all this festivity on Onam actually?

Looking at my growing paunch, i am reminded of that king Mahabali from the Onam legend. He is typically picturised as a pot-bellied moustached fat king with a wooden umbrella.

Maybe thats what Mallus are headed for. Attaining the ideal shape of Mahabali.
Pot-belly Prosperity.
Burp..