Unfulfilled Longings – Fictional Short Story

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I’ve been trying to forget her for a long long time and failing really badly at it. It felt like I enjoyed how I felt about her to such an intensity that I struggled to let it go.., but I knew that I had to. God had strictly asked me to let her go.., but I am not a powerful Creator who is mature and absolutely perfect, and who has never made mistakes for billions upon billions of years.., I struggle with my humanity, I struggle with my version of love which involves me falling for people that I like but to whom I can never become loved in their own version of reality. I know that life is unfair this way.. but I get it.., I really do.., It’s not exactly a delightful truth.., but you gradually begin to take it impersonally and learn to accept people for their mistakes and maybe forgive them someday, and accept the fact that their rejection of you is no fault of their own.. It’s just that they can’t see deep inside of your soul, your inner person and your hidden character. People are blind to what is unseen, and the unseen is the very birthplace of romantic love.

It was a dream that helped me remember her again. I would be lying if I were to tell you that she was never in my thoughts. Her name was ingrained into my brain, a mere uttering of her name brought delights into me that prompted much fancy and imagination. She had blocked me on instagram, and on facebook she avoided my messages. She had even friendzoned me in the past, did the universal women’s code for disinterest by not replying to any of my messages for a year, and the last time that she had breezed in acting like there was nothing wrong between us.., she acted like she and I talked daily for hours upon hours.., she played with my feelings before leaving as quickly as she came. Nothing new here. Just a universal female act and drama, since I am highly sensitive.., I felt the familiar meltdown and inner accusation begin. I wrestled with thoughts that insulted my lack of self restraint, I heard voices of painful condemnation that let me know that I should’ve known better with all my years of experiencing rejection. Rejection did not sit well with me.., it would be a thorn in my flesh and sting deep and hurt deep whenever my mind wished to torment me. Perhaps i’m in a war with finding love.

I should describe to you the dream. I remember it vaguely. But the message and the moral of it was clear, it was defeat. I was suffering defeat and rejection from her. If you know me, you should know well that I don’t take defeat well. I remember those who have defeated me, it’s like a curse.., even though Christ has helped me forgive them.., I can’t easily forget those in whose presence I suffered embarrassment, shame and disgrace. As a man, I would avenge my losses.., I had to struggle with such feelings in my faith and force myself to let it go. What I loved about Christ was that, He helped me see that my inner problems were far more greater than the problems of the world and far more dangerous and deadly than all the celebrities, famed ones and writers.

I have no clue as to what triggered me to dream about her. I remember that week well, my faith had just overcome a deadly fear of facing murderous henchmen as I preached the gospel. All day long I would be bombarded by these images, it felt like I was drowning in them and the voices would condemn me about my fears, and about my lack of courage.., and they would whisper that they knew that I was afraid to die for Christ. No matter how strong I attempted to make myself courageous, I lost heart.., because all my life I’ve been afraid of pain, of suffering, of falling victim to poverty, of losing my parents to an accident.., and to many horrors that were all too common in my world. But I remember the LORD just transferring a strange sense of inner burning within me. I was burning and burning within myself, in my heart and just on fire for Christ. I witnessed people drawn to the Gospel and it felt surreal.. how was it possible in this town brimming with strong inner tensions and spiritual evils..? It felt like the fire was living within me made the gospel become more truer than human understanding and affirmations could confirm. I started to receive incredible dreams, many of them were prophetic..,revealing things about my life and calling that I did not wish to be true.

The Lord was again asking me stop longing after her. Believe me when I say to you that I tried to forget her.., I really really did.. but not really. No disrespect to the Lord.., but I couldn’t understand what that even meant. For three years I had stayed pure, moral and single. Despite a bit of fame, I was a saint in my public life, I resisted temptation and ran away from fair maidens in an attempt to please God and to reveal to Him that I was serious about Him this time. I still struggled with lusts in my personal life, but I never gave up in my vision to become more and more Godly. She seemed to initiate in me a delight and joy that I didn’t have a reference to compare it to. I fell for her three years before in a way that I had not done in my entire life, and believe me I’ve fallen many times into empty one sided infatuations. I knew that the Lord’s sharpness of language was done more out of a protective instinct.., i’ve been around Him enough to sense that the deeper and the more deadlier the danger, the sharper His language becomes. I’ve picked up on nuances when i’m around Him.., He speaks a lot when He is still, silent and non-responsive. The Lord is my best friend, I’ve learned to trust Him and even love Him when He is angry and upset with me.., I love how passionate, zealous and possessive He is of me.. even though I pathetically suck at things like immediate obedience. I fail to satisfy Him, but He satisfies me more than words can ever comprehend.

The dream started with me in a place filled with busy people. The people around me felt like they were worldly, a theme that my spirit feels a deep seated unrest with. Since I could always sense that there was something wrong with the picture that I was forced to live in, and I grew always in a state of rattled nerves and disturbed confusion of the world around me. She was there.., I refuse to say her name since it triggers intense longings,wishes and dreams. But she was there.. Perhaps the whole dream was indicative of why she said no to me. I have mistakenly and accidentally tied the knot to somebody for whom I feel nothing, and I am overcome with sorrow at my choice. She meanwhile is stronger than my emotional dilemma, she is stronger to push herself to reach professional success.., I feel like the visual scene despite being hazy was a mixture of college energy and professional glory.., and I could sense another character as well.., a character who possessed her, it was not love.., but it was more of a symbol of belonging. She belonged to him.., he had her wrapped in his fingers despite her fiery, independent nature. And as the reality sinks into me, I break down in shame and defeat. I shudder with my hands above my head in tears, and nobody pays me any notice in this scene. As a fan of Jung, I can read much into the yearnings,the themes and the way that they play out. But I’m convinced that this means that she is trouble. Trouble for my spirit, trouble for my heart and trouble for my mind. I had to abort all of my longings for her that were spawning endless stories, poems and dialogues that I wrote like scripts.. memorizing their ability to transport me to an imaginary confrontation with her.

I woke up feeling melancholic, irate and fully clear about what that dream conveyed, even though I hadn’t discovered the words to explain it yet. I initially struggled to hastily speak this dream to a Gifted Dream interpreter, since the Lord has not enabled that gift within me much to my hurt and pain. I get dreams though, every now and then, it feels like the Lord does not me to become a vision interpreter, or a seer.., and I struggle to deal with that. But I guess it’s okay, even though it’s not. If only I could do something about it, if only I could.

I still remember running into her for the first time. I was just recovering from alcoholic addiction and desperately wanted to stay away from temptation. It was on one of those short story sites, I wrote haunting, melancholic and incomplete stories brimming with passion, love and sadness. I wrote what I struggled to let go. I wrote what saddened me about people that I knew who lived with broken spirits, and I wrote to console other lost souls struggling with similar themes. Believe it or not, my writing was far better then. No, seriously it was.. I had had a dramatic encounter with Jesus Christ, and that had flipped me over upside down, all the fears that had bound me and destroyed me inwardly were asked to leave. I knew that they were fallen spirits, evil to their core.. Who belonged to a realm that the non spiritual eye and mind could not see. The Bible was the only way through which people understood the reality of these dark, hideous beings who worked for lucifer, they enjoyed destroying a man through his mind. I have literally been near the shore of madness, I have stared at myself through the eyes of madness, I know well that only Christ rescued me from such a dangerous and dark evil. My Savior did incredible wonders for me, chiefly to my creative tools, He reminded me time and time again that my imagination, my love for words, stories and my love to understand people as stories came from Him. He even reminded me of His own style of speaking to people through parables the truths of Heaven.

Writing became easier for me because God’s presence in my heart, mind and soul was doing wonders for my creativity. His gift of a new spirit added newer dimensions to my thoughts, to my fertile imagination and to my human longings. My stories were vivid, deep, clear and less tormented.., but yet they were haunting since they spoke truthfully of the sadness of unfulfilled love. How ironic that one such story prompted her friendship..? I still can’t understand why she talked to me.., her friends..i.e her profile friends were well established artists, connoisseurs and craftsmen.. I was an unseen artist who lived for creative glory and art. I’ve often wondered if it was a deception sparked by the fallen ones done in order to remind me of my past blunders and romantic suffering or if it was an incident where I assumed that she was my God ordained muse, lover and wife. I tend to forget often that I am not attractive in some people’s eyes.., especially over an electronic space.., where millions of people portray parts and bits of them in order to draw, lure and attract souls in a revolting worship. It’s not easy for someone to really discover you in the way and intensity that you wish to be found.

I had written a tremendously upbeat tragedy of a love affair. I had utilized the settings to create emotional .. Much like Scorsese’s love for neighborhoods.., I painted a vivid picture of Madras.., and poured into it the longings of human beings beguiled and desperate for love, but often wounding seekers by rapidly retreating. The hero was a struggling writer, the heroine was an Anglo-Indian.., The writer’s friend has a thing for him, and it is her friend who is the heroine.., they are drawn to each other.., but being the rationalist that the heroine is she reasons everything.., and plays a dangerous game of engaging and disengaging the hapless hero, who struggles to find a muse, and a proper intuitive settings for his love. Much of it was from my own life obviously, the heroine character was someone that I had wrongly fallen for at a friend’s wedding. I never saw her again.. Ever. I wished to memorize and commemorate her intrusion into my life with a story that I had written over many many sad songs.

She waltzed in with her usual, girly feminism and joy. Sparkling a conversation that was overwhelming, unexpected and deeply useful for a recovering alcoholic, she revealed everything about herself on that first day. I am still surprised by how in control I was on that particular day, midway through our many hour long conversation…her joy at meeting a genuine artist had faded, my charm had faded and she slwoly began to realize that she was out of control. Reason entered, warnings entered, multiple news stories of creeps online entered her mind.., she freaked and got distant. I could swear to you that on that first day – she fell for me, that she fell in love with me. I might sound desperate, unreasonable and clingy but believe me it’s true. But after that something changed. She never opened up, I wondered rationally if she felt that she didn’t wish to lead me on, I wondered if it was something about how I looked in my online profile, or was it some feminine danger radar that had alerted her.. I didn’t know. By then I had flung my well reasoned control out, and started to become more honest with her.. I would have to wait for hours to get her online, and when she was there she was distant.., aloof, detached.. She didn’t open up.., she spoke briefly and left. There would be occasional signs of life.., a post of mine would get liked.., or she would send some song suggestion on Facebook directly to my messenger.., but after that again the deafening silence would continue… how we had vibed together as people the first time never happened another time.. I could sense her longings, her desires.., but yet again the block was there….I would send non creepy messages well stretched over a space of time, well stretched over months.., and again her defense was impregnable. Something was up. I started to divert my mind, I had been down this road one too many times before, I was on the brink of eternity.. I didn’t wish to fall back into the pit from which the Lord had saved me from. Because I knew with spiritual discernment that it always ended up in the same romantic hell – unfulfilled agony and endless inner hurt. I wanted to protect myself and take myself out of the situation. Because I knew so many souls who were still chasing something they believed was true a million years ago. This was the real ugly nature of female interaction, they start more doubts than calm one’s fears.

After many months and months of shame, defeat and hurt. I walked down to the Lord and asked Him to help me. Can you believe that..? I had forgotten all about my best friend the whole time on this one issue alone and run down yet another fruitless rabbit hole..? How absurd and idiotic. From His comforting side, I stared down into my choice and realized how blind I had been to all the danger signs. I finally allowed myself to be still and comforted myself with my Lord, I was not wrong for believing in something true, noble and beautiful between two human souls.. People are more calculated when it came to matters of the human heart, let’s just say that I believed in it with more innocence, truth and effort.

So that’s the whole deal.. but hey this could’ve happened to anyone right..?

Too Real – Poem

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The problem that I face with the world
is that everything is too real and I am too soft..!
I believe in the absolute best despite facing a lifetime of evil, hurt and angst..,
My scars have deep wisdom.., but my heart has deeper innocence..,
A few days ago.., a girl who had dumped a guy was hacked to death by the guy she left.., no happy endings.., no background theme music.., just real evil happeing in a place used to daily routine and crowds.., what an ugly violent manifestation..,
A day before that murder.., she was alive.., happy.., possibly dreaming about clearing off the debt for her parents with her I.T. job.., but now she has become a tormented face that reminds people of cruelty…,
Will people remember her in the same way …?
We walk past homeless souls whose entire lives have been one big agony and we don’t flinch or even feel their pain..?
How cruel are we..? Do we realize that we are going to be asked such questions by the Lord at Judgment..?
I wonder if demons rejoiced at another lost soul lost to eternity..?
I wonder if the killer thought things through, I wonder if he saw past his own hurt..? Why dear Lord are we possessed of a will that exists only to bring ruin and shame unto us..?
How can you unsee such an atrocity..? how do you find the words for such a tragedy..?
What are you supposed to do when this is the routine in the world I feel, see and live..?
How can happiness be preached when death, cruelty, pain and suffering are all I see..?
But i’m not complaining.., I survived my suicide.., I experienced a hand reaching out to me from the supernatural realm and save a routine fatality..,
but still I am a healer in a world deeply at unease with the forces of brutality and discouragement..,
Each day I am haunted by what I see.., the more others don’t have… the more at unease I feel.
I can’t sleep.., the human soul is at unease and rushes into evil, murderous lust and wickedness.., I pray.., I am always acutely aware of the unrest.., of the living shadowy beings …, I am always aware that something is always at work around me.., my sensitivity feeds my inner life with what my natural eyes can’t ever see…,
I pray for my town regularly.., I pray for souls to know the truth that can set them free.., I pray for Angelic protection for my brethren living in places infested with hate.., thievery and fear.., I pray for natural man to encounter the spiritual force of Christ.., I pray for eyes to see.., for ears to hear and for hearts to feel God..,
I dream sometimes that God will save us all.., I dream sometimes that I can build a shelter for homeless dogs.., I dream someday that the Church that I build will shelter homeless people in the night.
I dream sometimes that Hell will become empty.., It’s real sad to know the fate of the world.., Friends you still have a life.., seek the truths of Jesus and be absolutely sure in your conviction of Him if you are going to reject Him.., Narrow is the path that leads to life and few there are that find it.

Day 2 of the Bangalore trip – Signs of growth

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The College felt closed in my spirit.., The buildings seem too near in my spirit although outwardly they present a refreshing sight..United Theological college, Miller’s road … I stare out of the window of the room that we are at the moment lodging in. We have rented out three rooms and everybody seems to be responding to the experience in their own unique way.., My father eager to indulge the ambiance, calm and serenity felt the comfy cushion of his bed..but his mind was plotting relaxing work that could offer meaning, connectivity and relational connect to his path, he was someone who wanted a deeper meaning, a fuller overview of meaningful life engagements and always wished to engage in his passion for work, meaningful rest and faith. I wondered if I would have any supernatural experience on this trip, I saw the outline of an Angel’s wings in a stuffy room at an inn in Yercaud.., I saw a demonic spirit approach me in an invisible manner on a trip to Coorg…, as though to verify my sightings that both excited and confused me in the same degree the Lord revealed details of disturbing things about the places that we stayed in both to my mother and father in dreams. I was a young believer then.., not yet a warrior for the Lord.., but quite discerning of the world of the spirit that I could never escape no matter how hard I tried, but could also not fathom, perceive or discern to a level of clarity that could possibly speak of a gift or a calling in that area.

My sister and my cousin sister excitedly conversed in humorous lingo, constantly reverting to funny stories that they had always wanted to explore in another person’s presence.., my younger cousin sister will no doubt enjoy the company of my sister, My sister will no doubt feel the measure of her own self worth and proceed to grow in leaps and bounds into the womanhood that awaits her with dire expectations.. My mother checks her purse, sets her bags to the side, cleans the room and counsels my aunt in the same breath..My Aunt, a teacher has called her students and is chatting away to them about the nature of the trip thus far reciting the funny portions, explaining her shopping to do list and her plans.. I hear her asking them if they need something, My other aunt, my mother’s sister was a mixture of relief, nerves and worry.. She seems to immediately descend into a deep place of understanding and listened to my mother speak about Faith..I worry a lot like this aunt even though I rarely share what I feel to anybody. My Grandfather, a live 90 year old human experience of aging was excitedly moving about in a slow stroll, ever the Reverend.., he had stepped past the comfort zone of occupying one’s rooms and maybe settling in, and had instead crossed the invisible barrier of language and surface level non verbals and was mildly engaging the disinterested errand workers of the Ecumenical resource centre in gentleness and meekness… The Driver meanwhile gruff, and irate at not being included stormed away into the city just outside the gate of the college, where he would no doubt find the puff of a cigarette comforting and the plight of other people like him helpful. I feel sad about his plight, I remind myself to perhaps talk to him and ask him about his life at some point, I would have to pray since I also wished to evangelize to him in some degree. I wanted to break the boundaries that existed between the people who lived here. I was as usual reminded of the spiritual atmosphere of the place, and given a glimpse of the Christ’s depth here.., so many times work seemed to outweigh Christ driven efforts.

I hear the echo of familiar emotion in conversations in my mother tongue that seems to originate in rooms that are adjacent to mine from partially closed doors, but I find no comfort in them.. I can only feel a struggle to certain aesthetic sensations that are based more on dislike than anything else.., I seem to react to the thin paint of the walls that seem too light on the walls in the second floor, to the depressing tile colors of the floor in my room, to the newness of people who seem many echelons above me in personal style, intellect, ambition, power, assertiveness and cultural heritage.. I worried about the nasty condescension that the occupants of this city would throw my way when they would find out who I was.., I disliked weaknesses, vulnerability, helplessness etc… But it feels like Christ does His best work in such mock worthy human disappointments…But I find myself avoiding all such sensations, I am taking in too many things at once.., absorbing too many feels at the same time… I remember the low effort reception lady whose language seemed curt, disinterested and condescending even though she had a welcoming smile on her face.. Added to the fact that she was a Kannada lady poured more confusion to the raging inner fire.. I find myself feeling the contrast of the hip urban foody places where young people seemed to be assertive at and the appearance of the railway stations that felt inwardly ugly, filthy and putrid .., I try to focus on the American architecture, outer appearance that seems to soothe.., to the symbol of the Cross on transparent glass sliders that reaches deep into places in my human flesh that my mind can never ever comprehend.. To the presence of a Chapel and its silent call and cry.. to the gentle waving trees always friendly, welcoming and shy, to the still emptiness of a conference room where the wind seems to blow into.., to the sight of an eagle swooping in and picking up a twisted twig.., to the sound of my voice, to the wise acceptance of my father.., to his inner strength that knew the wrestle with the known, the unknown, the unpleasant, the unseen and the deliberately wicked. I needed to connect with the word of God soon, I was slowly and quite clearly losing my way both within me and outwardly in the outer world.

But as spiritually connected as I am..I wanted to test the waters, I refused to encounter a place with tools of non engagement.. I was not going to lose myself into my family who were with me, talk energetically with them and perhaps feed of their contentment.., I certainly was not going to command and exert my presence and escape the feeling of sinking tragedy of feeling like an alien.., I was not going to befriend people with charm and etiquette and escape the depressing sense of feeling incapable of making social adjustments.., I was going to test what a place could do to me if I encountered it as it was and not how people took it to be. I knew that part of the reason that I was feeling this way was because the spiritual man is never at peace with the wicked world and its glamorous banality. But I wish I had a proper schema to encounter places, a clear cognitive framework full of psychological insights, explanations and interpretations.., A sort of assertive energy that takes control of one’s inner emotions as it feels a new destination but sadly I don’t.., it takes time for a place to acquaint itself into my heart, my eyes, my mind, my soul, my spirit and my inner world.. I am only conscious of my powerful emotions in the beginning and strive in desperation to see past the conflict.. I must tell you that travel for the sake of it does me no good, I am not a fan of shopping, tourism and eternal drives in a claustrophobia inducing van that bumps, derails and makes one feel deeply deeply uncomfortable, but I do seem to enjoy the experience these days thanks fully to the wondrous touch of my Savior.., there were times in the past when I would turn rather nasty and bitter since my folks could not perceive or understand why I was so rattled, irate and cranky in new places.

For someone who has seldom acquainted himself to the memories of places in Bangalore, each place feels like a disjointed vein leading to a place that appears like the memory of a man suffering from schizophrenia, for a brief second clarity beckons but the madness rushes forth like a torrid tide and he is consumed once more by his delusions, his insanity and his gravity.. I feel like the ground beneath me is spinning, and I am thrown into a daze. There is a railway station close by to the college, there is an overhead bridge and a tunnel below.., two roads run the distance into meters and meters of high priced apartments, shops, departmental stores, fancy high gated houses of the rich, the affluent and the powerful, the complexion of the people here is one of those unfamiliar things even though in my part of the world there are fair skinned people.., but the body language changes here.., the behavior here is not raw, gravity oriented and engaging.., it is composed, detached, expressive and oblivious of other people.. It is a dramatic thing to encounter and slightly triggers my fear of comprehending the nature of the individuals here.. Fair skinned individuals occupy the roads, the stores and the eat outs.. I feel embarrassed in their stare, I feel like an unwelcome visitor.. I remember the hundreds of encounters with people from other states in my own town, and I remember being rude, dismissive and often times too voyeuristic of their awkwardness in my turf.., I remember the fellas poking fun at it, I don’t laugh at other people’s pain.., but I remember not doing anything about it either which in my eyes made me guilty as a man of God.., I am a sensitive person and care deeply about people being treated better than I was treated.. but I remember the inner impulses towards the culturally displaced and visiting, and I have often times not been mindful of the situation and have shown my impatience and frustration.., I start a process of deep repentance immediately, I vowed to never take any opportunity for granted again, and vow to myself to extend beyond my own capabilities.. Reflecting Christ’s love, kindness, warmth and friendship to a deeply confused world was being reinforced through these encounters. I find myself sensing the amount of effort necessary to treat everybody like you treated yourself.., it was mind boggling, overwhelming and frankly speaking frightening.., where would I get the energy..? What if I was in a bad mood..? What if I could not undo certain missed opportunities..? This was the real world, and I wanted to really engage the cultures of the world and befriend souls for Jesus.., I had to really start going out more and perhaps reading up on the subject.. but the most important thing was that I needed to spend loads and loads of time with my Savior if such a thing were even remotely possible for someone who is as mellow, observant and quite non assertive as me. I knew that part of my inability to connect with people from other cultures was because they would often times be really unfriendly and I took that rather personally in the past.., I had to make an effort.., changes don’t come from wishful thinking.

I have not connected my inner spirit with God.., so predictably I stutter and stumble like a sailor on a rocking ship assailed by mighty hungry waves in a dark fathomless night…. The inner ocean is more terrifying since you drown in the power of painful emotions of fear, anguish and hopelessness unless it dips itself into the infinite ocean of God with all its wonderful depth and healing… I feel an increase in anger.., an increase in lust.., an increase in boredom.., an increase in doubt.. an increase in fear.. an increase in reactions to my environment, surroundings, places… a deeper inability to perceive people in patience, peace and compassion.. and an overall increase in a form of stimulation that blocks one’s connectivity to the Holy Spirit who seems more and more like an impossibility at the moment… How strange is faith..? Yet how easy it becomes for a believer of Christ when he kneels in utter humility and brokenness and seeks to honestly speak out his utter neglect of the Lord and also to agonize of how utterly hopeless life as a whole feels without Christ.

I must confess an increase in feelings that made me believe that I can exist without prayer and careful Bible meditations.., I must confess a certain amount of spiritual pride that had been developing over the fact that I was called and had managed to withstand the trials, pitfalls and discouragements that people who were called by the Lord often encountered.. I must confess pride over a lot of things in my life.., pride over becoming blessed, favored, being more spiritually aware, being able to work with my gifts.., not reaching out to a friend who I believed was too focused on his problems.., I have been harboring a lot of pride as of late.., and I knew that it was wrong, useless, meaningless and not worth my time.., I needed to really spend time with the Lord and work that out.., I knew who I was before I met Christ.., someone who struggled to live, exist and breathe.., I was someone who messed up people’s lives with impulsive decisions.., I was disobedient to my parents.., I was not worth their financial investments in terms of my early education.., I made dumb mistakes.., I hurt people purposefully.., I was blunt about other people’s mistakes.., I was a shy, introverted, restless person who suffered panic attacks and had numerous bouts with mighty fears.., I could go on and on…, I don’t forget what Christ saved me from.., if He had not intervened as I pondered my suicide, I would not be alive today.., I don’t forget the deep remorse that I always carried around me as a kid, I felt that the weight of my parents was on me and I struggled to conform to the systems, organizations and the responsible attachments that everybody seemed to handle with relative ease.. I felt different, odd, rejected, inferior often, lonely, alienated.., like I said.., I can’t forget what Christ saved me from.., I have learned to see myself for who He has made me become.., but I remember my past, my bouts with depression that often lasted for months on end.., my messes.., I was saved.., redeemed, forgiven of sins that people never forgot and cleaned most importantly. I live as a new man today.., I live as someone who has escaped the devil and Hell within inches.., I live as someone who is completely dependent on Christ for everything.., and I mean everything.

After becoming a believer and follower of Christ I have tangibly felt a decrease in my imagination and its activities, it no longer turns itself on at will, it feels more and more like something invisible now. Perhaps I am closer to my dreams that I really don’t need them anymore.. I remember when I was young.., my imagination could create stories that I would live in.., I had an intense imagination and always day dreamt about fame, about reaching my dreams of becoming an elite basketball talent, of becoming a world class cricket closer.., of love and the girl that I could never forget, of becoming an actor with an Oscar.., of becoming a rap star who would go on to make platinum albums that sold millions and whose lyrics was deep, soulful, poetic and complex.., of becoming a director who created movies that changed people’s lives.., of becoming an artist who painted art that defined a generation.., of becoming a writer who exceeded his own proteges, personal heroes and muses.., my imagination made uninterested infatuation worthy females into girlfriends that I had to save heroically from crazy exes, psychopaths and villains.., my imagination helped me live the dreams that I could never achieve.., my imagination helped me become sane in a world that was too real, too uncomfortable and too blunt about its unkindness. I still write the occasional story or three, or ten or twenty depending upon the time of the day.., I am too engaged now.., I have so many responsibilities now.., I have to spend time with my Lord.., with my dog.., with the gym.., with ministry mates.., with possible recruits and possible converts.., with numerous unopened books that I am just itching to read and ideas aplenty.., with strategies that I hope to turn into reality in my next step.., with my camera for my personal channel.., with the camera for the ministry that I help and the show that airs all across Vellore and its 20 lakh people.., I spend time with a small bunch that I am trying to gather together so that we can fellowship well and worship our Maker.., I write a lot these days.., but if I am honest I want to be known as a writer and not as someone who is a weekend warrior.., I want to write about my experiences.., about my trials, about the life incidents that have shaped me to become the person that I am today.., I want to write and explore other things as well.. Novels, characters.., I am just bursting with the energy that becomes sentences in pages.., God has been too good to me.., I can go on and on about how He has held on to me even as I struggled to hold on to Him.., my journey with Him has not always been pleasant.., I’ve had my fair share of screwups, messes and stupid, stupid mistakes.., but I repent, and start all over again.., I am reminded of my calling.., to serve.., and I don’t mind being a weak, messed up vessel that has been cleansed by an Almighty Savior. What is that they say.., when the going gets tough.., the tough get going. I have miles to go and loads of people to reach.., God speed ahead.