Unfulfilled Longings – Fictional Short Story

Standard

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..?

The Optimist and the Dreamer – Short fiction

Standard

Some of us live the ordinary life..,While some of us dream and create a world within a world to live in…and that’s okay.., nobody is spared quite really.., none can escape the dreariness of life or her sordid despair.., Hanka was such a girl.., she always did what was asked of her.., she fought through the ugliness of life.., studied hard.., learned to not pay heed to the ugly stares.., learned to escape the tyranny of a toxic realm.. Did things the right way.., Followed God.., lived life with faith.., obeyed in perfection what the Bible mandated.. Hanka was the type of person who went to heaven.., Hanka was the type of person who was promoted for her hard work.. Hanka was the type of person who put food on the table for her kids even if it meant waking up early for twenty years in a row.., Hanka was the type of person who looked out for people.., she did not befriend.., she helped.., managed professional duties with ease.., looked after a family.., She lived by the book.., perfected the system and was fruitful.., blessed and hope filled. For her faith was more than just feeling.., it was something to live upto despite the struggles, the wrestles and the down falls. She knew what faith promised and she walked towards that with unswerving hope. Hanka was an emblem of hope.., She always got through whatever was bothering her.., she conformed because it was right, just and demanded from the Bible. Hanka believed in rules and did not offer grace without believing that the person would someday change. But hanka had a huge heart.., she dealt compassionately with those who were poor.., sick.., hurt and down.., Hanka was just the type of person who believed that doing things the right way meant that it was more loving.., more better and wasn’t it what the Lord desired..? Hanka always spent her money on buying stuff for her family.., she came second.., she loved it more to help others. Hanka was always forgotten.., though she went to great lengths to buy stuff for other people…, to do extravagant things for other people.., she was always treated like she was ordinary.., like the things that she was doing for other people did not change their hearts. But Hanka strived forward.., hurt but bold.., determined to do what had been required of her from the start by a mysterious God who was everywhere but appeared like he was nowhere to be found.

Saul was the type of person who wondered whose side God was on in a personal conflict. Saul was the type of person who stayed awake in order to feel inspiration.., Saul was the type of person who stayed awake because he wished to be closer to his inner voice.., to what he could remember of his deepest and most soulful longings.. Saul was the type of person who felt that the sky was an imitation of inner feelings.., Saul was the type of person who struggled with apologies since he did not wish a repeat of what had been done.., Saul was the kind who deeply understood the horrendous unpleasantness of everything.., he knew that people were homeless.., he knew that the girls who had left boyfriends married somebody different and ended up becoming more happy.., Saul also knew that he could not change anything.., He could never change people’s evil that resided deep in their hearts and cunningly deceived them much like the Serpent at Eden’s Garden.., he knew that people were always going to be poor.., he knew that chickens would be slaughtered for meat.., he knew that girls would be trafficked for prostitution.., he knew that animals in the jungle would be killed.., he knew that some were going to be abused.., raped.., molested.., hurt.., wounded.., bullied.., murdered…, hated for the color of their skin.., he knew that people were guilty of not being courageous enough to challenge the norms and moods of their time.., whatever the times were defined by people imitated and reflected.., he knew that people from the slums could never escape the cruelty of their upbringing.., he knew that people would be discriminated.. he knew these things because he could see deep into the heart of the world and see it’s lost state.., He was not just a dreamer.., he dreamt of better living conditions for everybody.., he dreamt of a world without poverty.., he dreamt of a world without hell.., He dreamt of a world without sin.., He dreamt of a world filled with meaning.., but sometimes Saul dreamt of other things.. of darkness.., He dreamt of never existing.., He dreamt sometimes of being the only conscious person in a world filled with robots.., He sometimes looked at himself in a mirror that he had a face.., a body and that people outside judged him based on how he spoke, acted and interacted with that body. Saul was the kind of person who had been hurt by love but still believed in it and attempted to control it because he did not wish to appear sappy, emotional and delusional. Saul had a soft soul.., he struggled to accept the blessings of his life because others seemed more vulnerable to the world’s beatings. Saul struggled to live.., he struggled to obey God.., He struggled to believe because each day he felt the attack of a world intent on breaking him apart.., Saul struggled with lust.., with greed.., with pride.., he struggled to commit fully to the Bible since sometimes he felt that it made a person too righteous that they forgot their weakness that made them love more deeply. Saul knew in his heart that the Bible was true.., he knew it with absolute conviction.., but he had never been a lover of rules.., he wanted to discover what made life tick.., setting the rules would mean that life became dull, uninspiring and too stable.., he wished to live in the way that he wanted to.., He wanted to be in control of his life. He was a free-spirit and he enjoyed freedom.

Saul did not look at things as right and wrong.., he did not appreciate the power of being right all the time since he believed in empathy more than righteousness which was a controversial stance to take since his views and opinions were laughed at and mocked by the religious of his day. Saul also believed that nobody would catch him if he were to fall.., he knew that nobody was running behind him.., nobody would desire him and if they did.. the moment they understood him they would leave.. Saul understood too that his own inner need to prove things to people sometimes broke and he succumbed to what made life easier since he couldn’t bear the pain of loneliness and also did not wish to bring pain to himself that others would talk about. Saul did not like it when anybody told him what to do.., because he believed that they didn’t understand what he was feeling on the inside., Saul was led by an intense spirit within himself, he did not like to discover weaknesses within himself.. they made him feel dejected, wounded and sad.., he wished to burst forward like a sparkling meteor on a black, silken night. Saul felt hurt that life had expectations on him.., that he would be audited for what he had done in his life.., and he couldn’t ever talk himself out of it.., No …Saul felt trapped in a world where everything was fixed in stone and he was stuck in it.

Too Real – Poem

Standard

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.

First hit… Memories of shame

Standard

I am always trying to ponder inner realities that exist within me. Coming to terms with what they are conveying.., I perhaps to write to understand what I feel so powerfully within me.., I write to share my side of the fence.., I write to live.., I write because I am in love with words, stories, prose, beauty, literature and secrets and feel compelled to treasure this gift of gab. I believe that a writer is someone whose soul can see past the nature of make believe outer reality, and into the real heart of things.

I can’t understand what is happening in my heart.., but I feel a tremendous heaviness on it right now. My Father and I had had our usual Saturday night conversation.., the topics varied from England dropping out of the EU to my sermon that I had just finished delivering in the church opposite to our house. He highlighted things in my sermon that were hard to take.., it was the usual criticism.., ‘repetitions, unwanted honesty, forgetfulness…’ etc.., I had to listen to my parents and their observations since they were just as sensitive as me when it comes to not realizing the brevity and reality of things. All my happiness and joy at battling intense inner fear, nervous anxiety, strain etc and then standing before young people who were so cynical, dismissive and attempted to mockingly laugh and smile at your face and delivering a message fizzled away as I listened to what he was saying.., He could be really persistent when he wished to convey truths about my sermon that I could never see…, Call me insane but.., I don’t understand criticism because I deal with my own inner insecurity.., and to heave a dose of observation right after a tremendous test was quite horrifying to me…I sometimes wish people listened with their heart and not with their mind.., but he is my dad and I love him in ways that I can’t even comprehend.., he has done so much for me.., and struggles with a burden so big.., for my sake…, I can’t help but listen to my hero…but I have to remind myself to sit alone with my Lord.., perhaps I can climb above the slab of the upper floor and be alone.., and pour my heart, my tears and my feelings to Him who truly cares…, maybe I can become sane again.

I’ve discovered that most of us are expert talkers.., but few can look beneath the layers and words and understand the heart.., and find the selflessness to love back courageously and look past our own scars, wounds and weaknesses…, True Love seems to be too easy to long for and so hard to find. I am no longer content with human love.., I demand, desire and hunger for a love that can conquer.., accept me at my absolute worst and encounter me at my most insane and still love me fiercely, ferociously and insanely.., So far I can only count Jesus in that list.., nobody else comes even close.., perhaps my parents, sis and doggy can be added after a billion kilometers.., but then again God gave them to me.., and they ask me to love God more than them.., maybe I could place them after a million kms since for the first 25 years or so they were the only reflection of God that I could see, feel and enjoy and they were incredible, amazing and otherworldly at it. I’m blessed and thankful always.

I remember not so long ago when I bumped into an old acquaintance of mine. He had been a mentor to me in my past.., but a hard, no compassion showing dictator who was relentless in his handling of me.., I was chastised often.., rebuked often.., told to study hard.., and it always felt like his methods were too extreme.., too hard and too painful for a hyper sensitive, dreamer in love with his imagination such as myself… and I could clearly see that I was nothing like him… He had built up his own empire from scratch.., he started one of the most powerful ministries during the 90’s and had been responsible for a wave of revival that had hit Vellore during that time.., all of a sudden there was a surge of meetings, revival meetings, youth meetings, Godly sightings.., Angelic Sightings.., curing of terminal illnesses such as Cancer, Aids, Tumors etc… God had touched the sun scorched soil of Vellore in centuries.., and my Ex Mentor had been in the thick of things.., He was a disciplinarian, who was a hardcore perfectionist… He had a soft side to him and I could see it work on certain people.., but he was above the pack and was always leading the charge and taking all hostages with him.

Growing up I had always struggled with feelings that I could never be good at anything. I saw people naturally blooming all around me.., and I was never good at anything…, I struggled with insecurity.., inferiority and shame.., I always dreamt of killing myself in my early years.

I was his polar opposite, ie of my Imperfect Mentor.., I was a free spirit, but I could feel too powerfully the pain of a hurting, broken world.., I was deeply hurt at the plight of the street dogs whose stomachs had shrunk and the bones of their rib cage showed real clearly.., I felt pained when I saw people throwing stones at their feet, I was hurt by the fact that dogs and human beings had to search in the trash for food…, I was hurt by how some people never had the freedoms and privileges that I enjoyed.., my heart was always reaching out to the lonely, the hurt and the broken… I disliked the life that everybody led, I wanted to live a life that I enjoyed.. the childhood version of it was to live on an island away from people and that island would have libraries, food for eternity and a world class view of the stars that I would see every single night.., I enjoyed freedom, I loved being free.., I did not like to be tied down, I always dreamt of freedom the more I found myself in systems.., I enjoyed sports.., and I had a hunger in my soul to reach for the stars.. I dreamt all day long of fame.., of fortune and of beautiful stories that I could imagine, and maybe create someday.

After the initial years of growing up next to him, my parents decided that I would do a year in my Dad’s Alma Mater – MCC.., up and until that moment I felt trapped in Vellore.., Vellore was too raw and primal.., there wasn’t class, refinement, integrity or friendliness here…, I felt nothing but inner torment, anguish and boredom in my early years.., School was a bore.., I struggled to cope up…, I was detained after classes all the time.., or I had to cross paths with stronger, more assertive seniors who used me to beef up their own credentials.., I was either a punching bag or a source of teasing and scorn.., My skin color was highlighted which made me feel ugly, unwanted and awkward.., I was never accepted by my peers for some strange reason.., most of them were the sons and daughters of either rich industrialists or doctors.., I guess I was not their type.., I felt unwanted by them .. My teachers did not exactly convey any feelings of me being embraced or celebrated either…, You remember what people don’t say to you and what people can’t see in you.., I still do to this day.., I remember feeling like I was of no use to this world and I dreamt often of death and suicide… I was an invisible person who had to live like I was different.., like I was not special and like I was of a lower species…, My language speaking skills would be highlighted often.., or my grades would be brought up.., Nobody worried for me.., they were just shoving my lack of interest in academia into my face and telling me that I was useless. The hardest part of it was to feel shame for the sake of my parents.., who I could see were such kind, gentle souls and here I was shoving a brutal reality pill into their faces because of my sensitive soul… They had worked hard to get to where they were.., my Dad had undergone tremendous trials.., losing both his parents.. moving here and there.., taking care of his sisters…, struggling to come up in his own life, and my mother came from a very poverty stricken family and had studied hard to reach the management ranks of the most prestigious hospitals in our town… I had let them down.., here they were working so hard under really hard circumstances to make something of me, and here I was just wasting it all away.., I was never considered for anything or thought to be anything.., I loved sports.., but nobody took a special interest in me.., or thought that I could amount to much.., Growing up I so badly wanted somebody to believe in me and push me in fields that I was interested in.., but sadly I had none.

Such experiences with the unkind, non grace offering parts of life made me really hunger and long for love, for empathy.., for being understood despite what was going on on the surface.., I wanted people to feel sorrow for me.., but I was confused since I saw people from even lower places than me survive, fight and live.., this further made me despise myself and made me close my mouth. I did not want to talk it out to somebody and listen to them talk about things on the surface.. Nobody had the power to perceive the depths of me.. No one.. Unless I talked about it.., and when I did.., it did not impact them in the level that it impacted me.., my inner struggles helped me listen deeply to other warriors dealing with a cruel cruel life.., late on in my life.., my wounds, scars and inner demons created an artist…, created a resource so deep for my craft.., but the same feelings that I heard in my earlier years would trickle into my heart after any accomplishment.., ‘This is not good enough..’, ‘ Is this the best that you can give..?’…, ‘ Look at him/her they seem to do it in a way that feels easier than you..’.., ‘ This felt easy.., you’ve not been really challenged yet..’.., ‘ You call this writing..? A 8 year old with no understanding can write better stuff than what you just did…’ …, and so on and so forth.

When we had moved into the colony that we are staying at right now, he was the only person who was caring enough to welcome us and to also help us ingratiate ourselves to the culture of the small island of Christian only homes that stretched down two parallel streets. He was so kind.., and took such genuine efforts to include us and make us feel welcome…, but I remember the initial awkwardness of it all.., I remember my neighbors treat my mother with disrespect as she attempted friendly conversations with them.. I could not see it in their faces but I got a hint of it in my heart.., I was offended that they could respond to my mother’s genuine smile with a calculated one, how inconsiderate were they that they offered hate for love..? And I was never wrong about them.., all those highly rude individuals always seemed to find newer ways to establish their supremacy in our lives, their facial coldness seldom seemed to still.., they were always wound up, always ready to attack and always eager to express their imaginary dominance… and I am a really objective guy.., but I have always abstained from those who don’t welcome… I believe that it all comes down to early experiences. I have always struggled with being rejected.., I still do.., now I am a tough nut to crack.., but my heart is too soft. I am like my mom.., dedicated, personal and intense.., I used to alienate myself and rebel to gain strength briefly but I comply, conform and humble myself for the sake of the gospel these days, and the friendship of my Lord has really helped me forget those initial difficulties.

Nothing special seemed to happen to me.., nobody wanted to talk to me.., nobody seemed excited to be my friend.., nobody could really see me.., I understand it all now.., but the heart of a guy who knows and desires love but finds emptiness.., egoism and hostility can be hurt eternally. I did not get any love letters.., I was not anybody’s best friend.., I was hurt by the lack of interest.. by the indifference.. by the unkindness and chiefly by the inability to perceive one as being important, necessary, needed etc hurt me. But I guess those initial years and the senses that I absorbed have made me the person that I am today.., have helped me take on the cross for Christ’s sake.., and have created in me a hunger to find people who suffer the same silence that I did.., and perhaps lead them with the help of the Holy Spirit to the Lord Himself.

I don’t know who ends up reading this.., but I will beckon you to attempt to make the world a better place than the way you found it. I implore you to know Jesus as your personal Savior since the world can overwhelm, destroy and kill your good intentions.., but Christ can help you with His strength and power and lead you to work for the Kingdom of God.., and believe me the benefits are out of this world.

Confessions: Lost chances( Short fiction)

Standard

‘ Is it your fault.., or was it mine..? Whom do I blame for this sorrow..?’
– Translated from a tamil song

The basketball court grew translucently vacant after eleven in September… September made you feel different in the city.., as a watcher of people I pick up on a lot, all cities have the same traffic.., the same zone defense of public roads.., the same feisty cops pulling up bikers with helmets…, but God has different layers to each month.., the trees lose more leaves.., there are a lot more winds.., the waves of marina are are more lustful of the shore.., loneliness is much deeper in the underground caves.., and the antisocial appears every now and then when things grow still after the din grows low… A man who knew loneliness sat here often hoping to absorb the energy of sane souls, I knew him as well although he and I don’t really talk much.. I get the sense that the world that he occupies does not allow entry of people who talked.., he was a sad soul.., lost to a world that was indifferent to his plight.., unkind to his homelessness and harsh to his presence.., can’t really blame him.., but I wanted him to pour his soul into mine and feel my warming fire.., I was not exactly normal either.., I was a misfit myself.., a loner who preferred a ball and an empty court to people… Friends in my life were people whom I knew but who never knew me.., I was too deep to be understood, I was too distracted by the world to conform to their demands and expectations which seemed silly and childish in my eyes.., I was a man who knew things before they happened and who saw things before they were perceived.., I was whatever place I absorbed and I was whoever people wished me to be. The Park drew in folks.., the park did not catch your attention immediately, you would pass it by and it would not invoke any sensation.., it was bare, plain and possessed no juicy vibe.., like a plain woman you passed her by.., and then you encounter them and you begin to know them and you get the sense that you were guilty of perhaps discrimination but you’re safe since it happened in the secretive layers of your mind…. but this park was where I in all of Madras city found myself drawn to.. Perhaps this would be my own dream theater of performance.., where I can be the heroic motif that I pick in my day dreams.., where I create a legacy for my own knowledge but unseen and unrealized by those who frequent this same place as me.

There was always a buzz on the basketball court.., the eager to flaunt players held hostage by their domineering coach.., the visitors who sat on the stone galleries to ponder life’s mysteries.., the middle aged uncles who rested their vertebrae after a back breaking walk around the park to burn off calories.., shady cats whose eyes glinted with the spirit of marijuana and who scowled and mocked everybody that their eyes could see.., homeless drunks who argued loudly and later slept soundly in the top stair of the stone gallery.., local flower men who sold threaded jasmine buds to middle class city bred ‘Iyer’ ladies who slept on the hard stone floor.., Fatigued auto-rickshaw men resting after a tiring day…The court was my kingdom.., and I imagined myself to be the king of my court.., and it was my job to realize with the eyes of the heart the souls that walked through the court.. I would attempt stories from what I felt when my heart touched upon their souls.. I would also try to place each person with a song that I would spend hours searching for.., or perhaps crystallize them with a poem..By nature I am distant since I could care less about the formality of mere connectivity.. I could not understand why people had to spend so much time getting acquainted.., I know the bad ones.., they always try to make you love them and they always try to puff you up.., the rest are a mystery that requires patient chopping .., my mind is always afar since I alienate myself from the usual.., but there is a music to each soul that one can listen if one listens closely.., a hidden tale buried within each layer.., and I was determined to discern and navigate through the darkness of being.

He was one of those middle aged men who enjoyed mere banter. He had a charming and disarming way of engaging you.., He and I shared the same lonely space for quite a period of months, I wanted him to find it in himself to dare break the invisible walls that people erected around themselves.., He approached me with praise, a great conversation starter.., he wanted to understand why anybody would choose a public park to practice after 11.30.., a place well known for antisocial scum, insane marauding hooligans on bikes and bloodthirsty wanderers… I responded by saying that I could say the same about him to a certain extent.., A spark glowed in the darkness of that court which was a well-known magnet for unfinished tales.., broken hearts and restless souls… He would generally do his circular walks around the park with a distracted look, he found the practice difficult but he still kept at it.., he was from a small town deep in the south.., his language contained the soul of the town that he was from. The people there probably spoke from their heart.., lacked cunning and were delightful of people.., maybe they lacked the sophistication of deeper understanding.., for a brief while we clicked. Our souls are thirsty for as much of earth that we can find.., for in eternity our souls will suffer uncertain fates depending on our choices. I knew that a soul’s relation to the revelation of Jesus would decide one’s eternity.., but in the here and the now all souls starved and hungered for love and want.. They had a funny way of expressing it since immaterial realities kept pressing against their conscious shores…, but it was there and you had to learn to handle the bitter reality of people and their incapability of knowing their presence and their actions on another soul.

I am a chamber full of secrets.., many souls speak what besets their soul into my depths.., they share their hurts which are often painful realities that still torment their inmost minds..,I seem to inspire their openness.., and I seem to inspire them to enter into my inner stillness to phrase in fleeting lucidity their inmost torments which always found a way to confound their lingual capabilities.., for the moment they could find the perfect, most honest, most soulful and most heartfelt way of narrating their lives in his presence.., it would finally lift off and decrease in its intensity.

He remembered the first time he saw her.., he had known since he was 8…, it was not her eyes, her appearance or her behavior that he noticed…, he noticed instead how his heart fluttered when she walked past him oblivious to the nuclear damage that she was wreaking on his simple soul. Over a period of time the feelings became mutual…, he was 14 by then.., and she 13.., they held hands on the long mud paths surrounded by rice fields and sugar cane fields that led to their homes when nobody was watching.., he climbed trees to pluck mangoes for her and.., wrote her I love you hundred times… their love blossomed over the years.., he came from a conservative system.., multiple social walls stood in his way.., she was from another caste.., he belonged to another.., religion spoke about how he belonged higher.., but his heart could see no such reality.., his heart wanted her more intensely as the years progressed.., they promised each other multiple times that they would find each other no matter how far they got.., that the other would wait if something were to happen.., but as fate would have it education brought him to the chaotic city of Madras.., he would call her many times.., but there were no mobile phones back then.., the timing had to be perfect.., her Father owned a goods store and he would be out by 7 in the morning.., her mother was always at home.., but went at 2 pm to the temple for half an hour.., that would be their time.., even if her mother returned.., she would act as though the phone call was between her friends.., but one time her mother stayed back and long story short got wind of what was happening.., they beat her so bad that she swore to never contact him again.., but she was lying.., how can emotions such as love end in the face of adversity.., it is the very soil that it blooms and flourishes in.., he promised her that he would come back for her the moment he got a job.., but her parents got her married before he could make good on his promise.., marrying her off to some businessman…, heartbroken he wept, cried and wandered in sorrow and despair.., the years passed, he tried to forget her but to no avail.., how could someone forget someone who had inhabited his inmost being..? Who had loved him with a love all her own..? How could he overcome that which only made him linger.., stay and wander in a world of inner hurt..? He grieved like a man who knew not how to survive in a world devoid of his sweetheart.., he could not bear the thought of her in the arms of another man.., he could not bear another possessing her…, love was never meant to be shared by a third party.., Never.., His parents sensing his woe married him off to a proper Madras girl.., he hid his sorrow and began to live for his future.., family.., responsibility.., he had become so possessed by this intense hurt in his heart that he struggled to love his wife fully.., even though he had gotten over the deadly blow.., he could never forget his first love.., he shared this to me over a period of time and I listened as I always did like my life depended on it.., funny how strangers heal wounds that one’s own efforts seldom seem to. I know that the good Lord placed me on this planet to heal people, He did the healing.., I just had to reach out to the souls.., and I always could find them no matter how they hid their wounds.

I did my best to console him.., I spoke nothing .. there was nothing that I could say that would reach the inmost depths of him and pull him away from what he felt, I only listened and allowed my silence to do the healing.., I allowed my warmth to speak what I couldn’t.., what could I say..? I only felt myself grow sad.., there was a certain amount of sadness that this court seemed to attract…, I was a lost soul myself.., but I knew that Jesus healed.., you just had a sense for these things that was more than reason oriented.., I understood his moral reality.., He was married.., had kids in school and was a normal functioning member of society now.., but he would forever remember the lost chance.., and what could you do about it in this wild jungle..? Love more deeply..? Take more chances..? Marry for love..? I didn’t have a clue.., all I knew was that life moved on.., I had more souls to meet and more stories to glean. But what I encounter and see will always bleed within me.

Empath’s Chronicles

Standard

Young things have a mind all their own.. They really really do.

I always love when movies start. I really really do… It gives off a great sense of adventure and promise… Movies to me are like people,  I am wired to believe that they never end, similarly I assume that people are going to fade away in a form that does not involve pain and suffering …. The movie business, boy do I have a load of thoughts on that topic… I just hate how the movie business only wants the bodies and talents of individuals…  It wants the bodies of beautiful women to further our depraved imaginations into thinking that when they engage in lasciviousness,  it is for our pleasure… I find this vicarious thrill sickening in my imperfect yet renewed heart which has submitted itself to the Lord… I think old people choose young people to marry bcos they want the illusion of being young in some warped, twisted way. I don’t like it when that happens, it’s sick and revolting even though people pretend that it’s all normal and okay.. But then again so many things are far from being okay.

I think that people pay professional shrinks just to hear them talk without interrupting… People get so used to hearing the same things that they stop listening.

Why do people pretend like they have it all together?  Isn’t life going to snatch everything away?  Job, parents, kids.. Wife…!!  And yet they pretend like they know what’s about to happen next?   
It’s all about money in this town..  Survival…  Money.. Rent.. Bills… These are the true realities..  True love..  Soulmates – These don’t exist … They really don’t. God exists though and boy am I glad that I never get tired of Him!! 

Why do people grow up and become so cold and lonely?  Why do women control so much of our interactions?  I hate how much I re-read conversations with women in different voices and emotions trying to decipher some hidden clue of inference that will supposedly be an  “eternal treasure and joy”

Why does it hurt to be vulnerable? How can I switch off this feeling of being absolutely vulnerable at all times?   The older I get the more I see things differently.. Why do people desire each other..?  We all get tired of each other anyway..  don’t we?  What does last in this life then? 

I hate how all that people see are faces..  What about my heart?  My soul? Is your vision only limited to my vision?  I guess that the Lord is going to talk to me when He truly wishes to.. Or when He really wants to…  I don’t mind His approach.. I just want Him to talk to His favorite kid, on this side of the ocean..!  Why can’t I save all the sick, dying and broken people in this world Lord?  All the homeless animals?  All the poor people losing their minds..?  Why can’t I stop war?  Crimes? Poverty?    Prostitution, human negligence?  Trafficking ?  murder ?  merciless killings? 

I hate how forgiveness turns back the blame on myself and checks my conscience and wonders in invisibility about the relative state of all things and about our own inability to be absolutely clean and pure , People say the meanest things when they are angry… they really do…!  

I can’t understand how comfortable people are in who they are…  don’t they have fears?  Insecurities?  Timidity?  Shyness?  I’m seriously beginning to wonder how people can feel so confident when at anytime anything can happen!!  I hate what death does to a person…  I hate how it tears open a person’s soul with grief.. And brings the great treacherous injustice of the world into our hearts as we struggle against its vicious and vile might..! 

My mom doesn’t understand a thing about WiFi or the internet or what an Android app means…  and sometimes I laugh at her like it all means a lot, I hate it when I laugh at my mother…  I don’t deserve such a lazy and careless act..  She sweat blood, sweat and tears for me…  She clothed me… Placed my life before her…  what selfishness has my heart to laugh when my mom hides what her generation has trouble comprehending?  How cruel can I be? 

I feel sorry for people a lot…  I really do,  I just cry for them…  I hurt for them…  I pray for them…  the good Lord made my heart to be open and not closed to the world and it’s sufferings. I struggle in weakness against the might of my high sensitivity…  But the Lord has crafted me to bring Glory to Himself. I write stories about girls with whom I had chances with, or spent my life around with but never personally clicked… but they later found someone else.. And I roar and heave with all my anguish and mature sadness even as my pen weaves grand feel good dramas when my heart was broken so many times by decade old infatuations…!

I studied in this college where I felt invisible, where I was invisible… Nobody talked to me, it didn’t matter to them if I would’ve died right before their very eyes they still would’ve been so enamored of their great significance and privileges…  No girl ever opened her heart to me when u was there… I longed so deeply and lovingly towards my muses who were happily oblivious of my affections… I was always forgotten…  sometimes when I laugh at my ma and tease her I remember the pain of being made to feel all of that, and I grow angry at myself and start cursing myself. I still remember how much I hated myself… I can’t be like those flaky, pretensive scoundrels to my ma… She means the world to me.

Accepting God’s authority – Confessions

Standard

I have realized that recently I have had some trouble accepting the authority and the finality of scripture. I would like for some flexibility and a little less responsibility at times, and not feel threatened by Eternal Hell-fire and the passage of time.. There are so many consequences and dangers if one disobeys scripture, that the jolly, care for nothing life of old doesn’t have the power to exist anymore in our current lives and feels more like a terrible atrocity when chosen.

As faith begins in one’s life, He finds Himself touched, changed and led on a journey of choices…, but then the doubts begin… they might be something as small as why is this sin wrong in God’s eyes..? Or something as big as why does the Lord allow natural disasters..? Famines..? Earthquakes..? Poverty..? And the answers are not exactly useful and faith building…, the knee jerk answers seem to only lead to more bigger and more complex questions.., Fears enter in, disbelief settles in, faith loses it’s child like willingness…, It becomes intellectual, searching, doubting…, God appears, powerless, uninterested and unsettling.., He appears too perfect, fearsome, demanding, scary and frightening.., We are all doomed we think.. Hell seems like a much easier choice…, atleast the demands, the standards and the criteria are not so high…, We fall into imprisoning disbeliefs, former habits, lethargic irritations, hopeless and joyless religiosities.

Like I said, the consequences and the effects of even a tiny moment of rest and relaxation brings way too many painful obstacles, It is only some time before I can completely give up in disillusion and panic in a passive manner…, thinking that everything is lost.., I place too much Authority on myself.., I believe that all my hunches, instincts, reasonings and intuitions are correct…I find the demands of righteousness too exacting, and I find constant disillusion when things don’t go my way…. and when it does I find myself helplessly being sucked into the depths of disbelief and atheistic hopelessness…, Faith seems too weak when it encounters the sheer viciousness of my inner world and her mangled, powerfully and associatively created contents…, Faith seems too weak to break away addictions that have lived on for years in my heart and in my soul even after I have encountered the gracious freedom in Christ… and Faith seems impossible when we stare at the faithless, godless elemental nature of reality…, existing without meaning or purpose and is one big void and emptiness despite appearances to the contrary… We all would love to give up.., and most of us do.., I hear about so many of my former friends, seniors, colleagues, classmates and role models losing their faith and falling down… I don’t blame them…, Faith is a Cross…, an act of complete spiritual immersion.., a balancing.., a lifestyle… where reality is accepted and changed through Faith’s presence…, Faith means that we will be attacked by the World’s thoughts, by our own and by people of all kinds.. we will be attacked by evil spiritual energies that can creep insidiously into our thoughts, who have studied our weaknesses from birth and whose only joy is in damaging, destroying and wrecking our lives.

We are fighting off many enemies dear friends in Christ.., Friend.., your life is under constant scrutiny and attack which you will never realize if you are being led by worldly thinking which only makes sense of the world. I have learned that I have to learn to turn to God no matter how the situation appears like.. I don’t do a great job at it myself.. but I have learned that that is the only way…I try to battle my pride and my discouragement and reach out for Him whose touch can save me, I have learned that even if I am consumed by the ugliness of the shame that comes when I have broken and abused the Lord’s grace a million times and one.., God still not only wants and loves me.. He has been waiting for me…, He has been fighting for me… He will help me out of my addictions.., He will cure me of my desire to crave a substance that is often seen as a door to immediate pleasure, happiness and feeling alive…, Yes all addiction creating substances provide immediate thrills and kicks, but they can also damage and corrupt our character and bring immense trouble into our lives. We just need to lean, trust and learn to admit our weaknesses when it comes to following Christ… We are provided with mighty weapons to tear down the strongholds of the enemy who was defeated at the Cross.. Friend, if you are in a corner and being hounded and tormented by the enemy… Let me introduce you to my Savior..Jesus.. , He can save you from whatever hopeless situation that you are stuck up in, He is mighty to save, lift and restore what has been lost, misused, misunderstood and broken.We are living amidst an incredibly dull, selfish and fearful world.. we are a minority gloriously redeemed by God’s incredible love … and now we are here to express that same warmth to the world. Glow on Mighty Warrior of God.
God bless