The Ghost of her – Short Fiction

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” For the first time in my life as the music played I realized dimly that I had no one to think of, imagine for, feel as a part of my soul.., I was totally disengaged from pure notions of romance, instead I experienced such musical longings with dazed, emptied and free emotions.., strangely love was not something that I longer realized, relished much less believed in…”

Let’s just say that whatever expressions of affection, the dying, defeated, broken ones that my soul seems to cling on to.. ie the romantic kind are attracted towards her. Her, sounded like the sweetest hymn that inspired melancholic longings so ferocious and fierce that they seemed to make me sadder and sadder as I intensely re-entered the scars that she had left behind… Each time a contact full of promise failed I broke inwardly a little, I became a little more regressive, a little less hopeful and a lot more frustrated in a cognitive, invisible manner.

I am an asker of questions.., Why did she have to come into my life..? Why did she leave..? Why did she return back again..? I knew that there was a realistic nature towards the events that had transpired between the both of us which probably involved her doing what was best for her future, her life and her ambitions…, but being the loner that I am, I replay back the last great thrill of romantic tragedy that affected my life and my heart.

In my heart of hearts I knew that I probably did not inspire the kind of chemical reactions that she had inspired in mine.., I was probably not as attractive as the guys that she found attractive.., the cultural dresses that she grew up around was in stark contrast to what I grew up around, I was a flaming contradiction of paradoxes.., but who was she..? Beyond my acute exciting fear of her.., who was she really..? Why did I want her..? That singular question stumped me.., most of my life I had survived well and fine on my own, I was infamous for being close mouthed about everything and anything, but this pathetic need for somebody else was scaring me…, I had dealt with it in some way or the other for the past four years.., but still I hated appearing weak, vulnerable, needy and desperate..!

Sure she probably yawned, brushed, and snored like the rest of our lowly selves.., but why did this powerful need to immerse myself in the reality of her intoxicate, mystify and excite me..? Me the notoriously passive aggressive individual who waited until all the constellations would be right before he could gather up the appropriate courage to speak in a way that created an impression in a potential mate, life partner, girlfriend etc. My track record thus far was a disastrous one, filled to the brim with debacles, mishaps, painful one sided infatuations that never materialized into even a small hello over prolonged, painful years…, why did I still wish to attempt to fight against what had and will always be against me..?

Why does it feel sweet to imagine her to be my one and only..? Why does she seem, feel and appear sweet..? What if she was as cruel, aloof and deceitful as Summer in 500 days of Summer..? What invisible, learned, conditioned inner processes fuel a girl’s rejection..? How did I appear in her eyes..? What action of mine had the capacity to spark interest in her fierce, womanly self..? Why did I feel like she was the gasoline that met my fiery flames..?

She came in like the wind, unsaid, blowing mystical fragrance into the universe of my soul…, made me feel things that I believed had died when my last gf had dumped me after a year long complicated circus of pain, torment and endless strife not to mention hurt. She brought back the faith that I desired in love.., and yet she still remains outside my powers of persuasion, I am not good at accepting defeat, rejection and the word No…, it creates a pain so deep within me that I struggle to come to grips with what transpired, being the dreamer I think that she feels the same way I feel about her.

I hate how much of myself finds irresistible joy in her..! How could someone so petite, so innocuous, so naive and so controlling inspire the kind of interest that I have revealed..? How many hours have I spent in delighted inner reverie merely imagining my life intermingling with the mere presence of her..? How many guilty trips have I made to her Facebook profile..? To her Instagram..? Only to encounter the cold splash of reality of her avoiding, moving on and irately blocking my attempts to enter her life or whatever bits and pieces that I could find online.

I am growing, I can sense it in the occasional jerk in reality that I get as I receive flashes of the new mingling into the old. I see the airports,the dusty faces, the places that I moved within… I see my vision opening up, my old fears encountering the brimming power of new frames of colors bursting with joy…, I see everything, I observe everything and anything out of the context heavy crowd that I find myself in constantly. I view people as though I would be receiving a staggering revelation of something hidden within their lives.

I had run into her online. Not her personal self, but her shrine of her personal memories.. her activities and her passions.., encountering her had brought back in full effect the ghost of her.., always within me.., but never becoming life#

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Chronicles of an Imperfect Saint.

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I woke up and saw everything around me in terror. My heart racing over what I had seen, felt and done.

What had I done..? What had I done..?

I felt an unearthly fear grip me. I hear the light growl of a street dog in the distance, I hear the familiar sounds of the night in an unsafe neighborhood at unease with the unseen forces of terror that stalk and prowl, I feel my heart beat racing. Was I going to die today..? Did I have the assurance of salvation..? I had been engaging in a dangerous game of backsliding and grace abuse for the past two to three weeks, had I exhausted God’s patience..? Was murder going to become the way that I encountered God before I was to be led towards the fiery, never ending flames of hell..? I began to search for verses in my memory to combat the overpowering, domineering forces inherent in my mind. I tried to remember past experiences where I had been rescued, saved and comforted. I tried to calm myself and stop feeling what I felt. I did not have any luck… I knew the fear that I was feeling all too well. In my spiritual mind, I tried to discern if it was a spirit, if it was a spirit operating the mention of Jesus would yield a breakthrough in some unseen, mystical and supernatural way. The past few weeks I had been swamped with village visits, personal evangelism, preaching, witnessing, writing, shooting for tv, and testifying of the Lord’s power in the town that I was placed by the Lord. It was one of my greatest spiritual longings coming to life, and it had been coming to life in the greatest possible way… But I felt completely disconnected to it all despite being spiritually empowered and able in the greatest way possible. But the simplest way to put it across to you would be that I felt myself staring at it in unbelief. Not the emotional, overwhelming sort of unbelief. But the suspicious, anxious and unthinking kind where I did not even possess a human spark or capacity to comprehend what was at work in my life at the moment.

I had started to work as an evangelist slash (sub sub) assistant pastor to a Theologian, Pastor and Bible Teacher and despite my fears of the past, despite my fears of getting caught in a wrong situation, and getting caught up with some maniacal, Over Righteous Perfectionist whose bruising words of judgment, criticism and condescension would torment me eternally, I had taken a dive because working for the Lord was what I had been created for, it was the reason that I was alive today and it was the only passion in my life that consumed me 24/7. Prior to this dive I had had three months of fiery tests, tremendous mental trials and financial suffering as I quit my job at a Gospel Channel that I had had the pleasure of shepherding, laboring for and being a part of for two years. In that channel I had had my own tv show, I was popular on account of that show and everywhere I went people began to recognize me. As blessed as that made me feel, I could hardly care less.. It was the joy of ministering to people that I enjoyed, I was a wise man who had suffered endless trials and wounds in my past, I knew the perilous side of popularity and I wanted none of it, I enjoyed people finding a reason to talk to me, apart from that I did not particularly enjoy being known as someone who was a collection of television pixels in many houses.. I wished more to be a man of use to the Lord, effective to Him and absolutely of usefulness to the King of Kings who knew the pitfalls, downfalls and the people type who were rampant in my town.. I have always been more concerned about pleasing God than man.

I had my own individual, unique, God created way of ministering and I would usually get offended when people pointed out legal errors in my style that I had never been very thrilled about perfecting, as I had studied the Bible I knew deeply that the Lord chooses certain people for who they are and for who He had created them to be, but He would fill them with Him and then use them in Holy, awe inspiring Power. I get offended because people want me to be like them, to think like them and to talk like them in a Biblical manner, God has given me a different gifting that I find the most satisfaction in, it has enabled me to do His work in a form and fashion that is more about individual healing, understanding and empathy driven counselling, fiery preaching, expository sermonizing, building up deep personal connections, initiating complete engagement and filled with Holy, inspiring and Godly passion. My leadership was more in tune with my Master, Jesus.. I was a man of the people, I hung out with sinners but I fed them truths about the gospel, I prayed fervently for them(if i’m honest right now, it has been weeks since I have prayed for anyone with my style of time), I tried to bring out the best in them, I encouraged them, I supported them and I loved them like I loved myself, or at least attempted to heroically. I allowed them to be them self and I was wise about their nature, since I observed, studied and understood them in ways that they probably have not had the joy of being accepted. All such abilities come along with my Godly anointing, power and filling. It is the Power of the LORD that has helped me perform things that I am thoroughly incapable of. I was created for a different purpose, I was not created to please men, I was created to please God. I was a man of God, no matter how many times I say it I find it hard to believe and accept.

Growing up I never had a feel for my talents, gifts and uniqueness. I only found myself wounded since I was always overlooked, underappreciated and never recognized.

The worst part about the last few weeks was that I was underfed in my spirit. My prayers had been very distracted, filled with all kinds of fears, fraught with nervous tension, wary of Godly punishment and aloof from Biblical confrontation. I always have observed how the Lord grows sharp in rebuke the further I emotionally disconnect from Him. I enjoy that actually since i’m the exact same way. I know that only love has that quality. But it has taken me time to understand it, since I have always felt personally hurt with punishment since I grew up, a fearful, awkward, shy and self conscious kid. Academically I was poor, teachers rarely praised,admired, acknowledged my existence or even enjoyed my presence… As a matter of fact nobody that I knew acknowledged me, I was unseen, invisible and deemed unworthy. I was not loved for who I was, I was seen for who I was not. I was always at the bottom of the food chain.. words such as weak student, failure, slow learner, inept, foolish and other hurtful words in the Tamil language were bestowed upon me often. I gradually learned to look at myself based on the treatment, the words and the acceptance that I received. This was not frequent, but happened 80 percent of the time. It was always implied though, and my intuition has always been on point.

My parents were often informed of my low grades, and I felt humiliation at being such a poor example of my parents at my first school. I knew my parents story, they had worked so hard to come to where we were at the moment, and here I was ruining their name, their image and their pride. I felt shame about it, but I never talked about it, but it was something that I always felt even though there are tons of negatives about me. Very early on I could pick out social themes around me , one of them was inequality, I could understand why people looked over me, I could understand why they saw dark skin and saw it as something that reminded them of ugliness.., it reminded them of the ditch, the crows and unattractiveness. So you can clearly see the k I couldn’t understand why they still didn’t feel that even such a sort of inferior person, atleast in their eyes .. Still how they felt that such a person did not deserve kindness, respect and love is beyond me.. Culturally people grow up humanistically foolish.. My different world has always enabled me to be deeply humane despite all of my flaws.

So from my narrative you can sense the kind of emotional baggage that I possess in my heart towards being confrontational, controlling, judgmental and being criticized. All these experiences have drained into my nature a kind of individualistic, independence with a protective rebelliousness, where I learned to protect myself through self imposed isolation and emotional distance. I could understand why.. God has always given me deep understanding, but what I struggled, wrestled with and was unable to come to terms with was the question How. How could people disrespect and be so unkind..? How could people kill..? How could people humiliate others and never ask sorry..? How could people be so cruel to somebody else..? How..? How..?

At my first school, Inequality was implied, reinforced and taught consciously and unconsciously, at my second school it was worse. In the Indian education system teachers were allowed to punish, hit and hurt students back in my day. The motive was to make students succeed, I wonder if it has ever accomplished that though. For four long years, I went to a hostel where I encountered this in full force. I had failed 8th grade in my first school, which meant that I had to repeat it once again. Deeply depressed and hungry for a new experience, I asked my mother to enroll me in a school that I felt would make me stronger. Growing up around rich kids, privileged kids and amongst kids who knew how to express themselves with pride, strength and arrogance.. I felt weak, inferior, ugly, unattractive, undesired, left over and untalented. At my next school, my academic and socializing inabilities encountered bullying, teasing, cruel physical punishment, taunting, fights, pride, strength, force and verbal punishment. I was the one who was always punished the most, the one who felt the sickness in the system the most and the one who felt the hurt of others the most, growing up I could never sense anybody have the kind of heart for the suffering like I did. I say that with all humility, since the school that I studied at after failing eight grade implied that one had the license to be arrogant by brute force and be recognized as some sort of man. I can only laugh at the foolishness of all such imbeciles and snobs now, but still I have the humbling, my own pride breaking sense to also reach out with compassion to the bully in the same manner that I reach out to the suffering.

Punishment meant that I was unloved, rebuke meant that I was inferior, I knew that I couldn’t treat the Lord this way, as strong as it made me feel to have the power to stay within protective distance from the Lord’s rod of correction, I knew deeply well that I wouldn’t be able to stand a minute of His distance.., I would self destruct if He were to abandon and neglect me.., I would gladly murder myself if He were to distance Himself away from me forever. I can’t bear His distance, I can’t bear Him not enjoying me, I can’t bear Him being apart from me even though i’m an idiot who forgets things and acts belligerently and disrespectfully. More than seeing God as God, I view Him through the lens of my need.. Chiefly my inner most needs of wanting love at all times, at all costs and during all times. If He were to abandon me, I would revert to my former self, with all its demonic oppression, lies, fears and deep deep anxieties.

It had frightened me to my deepest core. The nightmare ie. But I sighed as I felt the absence of the deep darkness that I had felt as soon as I had woken up. I felt a deep burden lift from my the depths of my soul. The burden of my past and the promise of the future and my human inability to comprehend the power of both unsettled me, I wrestle when the burden of it all gets too much for my fragile human heart to handle. Christ has released me from the prison, the torment, mental suffering, the agony and the mental anguish of my past, but I still struggle to understand the difference. I can feel the presence of familiar strongholds, in my life they were not only based on personal suffering of the academic kind, they were of the highly sensitive kind, they were of the artistic kind, they were rooted to the chaos of a culture blind to the power of life in all its gory, brutal realities, I see too much, sense too much, feel too much and realize too much. I wish that I didn’t know what I know. But I do, and Christ is the only power capable of helping me from such an insane, deep evil at work in the human mind, in the outer fabric, layer, nature and power of reality as it manifests itself in places, people and situations.

Blackness.., blackness possessed the room. I could hear the deep slumbering whimpers of my canine lying next to me. I realized that the Lord had woken me up to pray. I was leaving for a trip, and He always knew how overwhelmed I got in unfamiliar places. He was asking me to pray to Him, He was asking me to rest in Him, to be refreshed in spirit and to talk to Him since He knew how hurt I had been in my last few trips after being ignored, rejected and unpleasantly treated by people. I immediately felt my own confusions stirring, why did I have to ask Him in order to gain it..? Didn’t my Heavenly Father know whatever I wished, required and wanted before I could find words to speak them..? Why did I have to ask Him..? My questions only aroused my deepest confusion, I wouldn’t be able to understand why I felt the way I felt, but I knew that my spiritual man needed to encounter Him. This was my spiritual mind at work, stuff that I can never explain with reason, even though I can if I wish to.

In my nightmare I had encountered a gang of hooligans, who wished to harm me and I had physically assaulted one of them out of self defense. He fell to the floor, bleeding and hurt. In my dream he dies, I immediately run away from that place, alarmed at my act and deeply disturbed by my own viciousness. Prior to this sequence, I had made a friend, and he invites me to a posh, three star restaurant and he has been sacked by that establishment, and I feel protective of him and wish to defend him. I knew that my violent attack in the nightmare was derived from my recent travels.., I had passed through Vellore’s prisons a week ago on route to an all night prayer, and I imagined the evil at work in the cruelty of the system that was godless, perverse and inhuman. I had shuddered at the thought of ending up there, my dream used that fear.., My current ministry also involves that I spread the gospel to the nearby villages that lie in scores all around my town, villages where the demonic Hindutva faction RSS are deeply rooted in. They are well known for using violence as a weapon to assault evangelists and preachers. I naturally feel fearful despite the thick sheet of God’s presence always around me, India is a cruel place for evangelists.., and persecution is a hidden truth.., but that’s the price that one pays for loving Christ.. I find that fear also woven into the nightmare.., I also sense the anger that I had felt in the evening towards a group of young guys at the ground that I played at. Their nature was so proud, haughty, rebellious, self loving and disrespectful.. in a spurt of emotion, I had imagined myself combatting those guys and teaching them some basic manners, this too was present in that dream. Over the past few days, my dreams had elicited fear and danger, these were themes that I was always discerning about in my life, not only as a former prisoner of fear, but as a prisoner of Christ wary of worldly realities that satan wished to preserve at all costs. I felt a spirit of fear at work in that nightmare, but the Lord was speaking more powerfully to me that I was around violent, demonic powers and that I needed to protect myself in His power.

I didn’t need any further prompting. I got off the bed, and opened the door and went to the Hall.

I knew that the city that I was heading to was tremendously difficult to stomach after my powerful experience with the Lord four or so years ago. Four years ago, the city had been my home for the better part of 7 years. In it I had grown up to become the man that I was right now, the city was like my mother.., I learned, grew confident in myself and learned to take charge.. But right now as an artist, writer and evangelist things would be different… I would not only see physical uncleanness, dirt, endless unkind and foul realities.. I would be barraged and assaulted by endless unkind, vile and disrespectful things that would make me sick to my stomach since the Bible is clear that God Himself begins to live within us after we are saved, and the Lord is hurt by a world of unkindness, uncleanness and hate. The thing that would hurt me the most as an evangelist would be the spiritual reality: scores and scores of diverse people groups divided by race, creed, nationality, social standing etc etc walking around having not even the most fundamental knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. The attractiveness of people there would intimidate and confound me, the ease and comfort of people’s confidence would hurt and wound me, the intelligence and ability of people there would make me feel insignificant and useless.. My natural resources dry up the moment I hit its shores. I can only thrive and survive with Jesus power.

Godly power has enabled me to evangelize to most of my former friends in some shape, degree and fashion, all to the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. I have loads and loads of basketball teammates, friends in petrol bunks, friends working behind the counter of the In and out stores.., watchmen and security guards.., auto drivers, homeless bums, flower sellers, beggars.. In my eyes, much like my Lord, everyone is a friend. I live that out, and I love that it is the way it is. I have always hated limits, rules and boundaries between people. In my life prior to encountering Christ.., I enjoyed conversing with people from different religions, different thinking styles.., I had among my friends.. Homosexuals, transgenders, shady types, bike mechanics, atheists who blasphemed the Lord routinely, Fanatics, people who blatantly did not like me.., but I was intrigued by them even though I have felt hurt on numerous occasions, I still enjoyed their personality, their person and their presence.., I had no thoughts about their sins.., their lifestyle and their mistakes.. In my eyes, I myself struggled with numerous sins, what made me so different from them all..? I still feel the same way.., God has enabled me to love people more powerfully since then.., where I couldn’t comprehend their choices, habits and lifestyle.., as a reformed man of God I can comprehend it.., and I see the staleness that sins create in a human soul. There is no art, no beauty in sin.., it only corrupts, destroys and breaks.., and now I do my best to save, rescue and help people with the living gospel of Jesus Christ which I believe with my life, my full heart and with all my mind.

This is why I love that city so much, it helps me experience people so different from me. I can’t wait to get there despite my natural fears, hesitations and anxieties.

I would like to leave you all finally with a moral from a recent experience that I had with one of my great friends. Part of my personal evangelism ensures that I hang out with tremendously difficult people who have nothing in common with me, but I plunge into camraderie, debate, conversation and endless attempts to win souls over, both to Christ and into a brotherly fellowship with me where I lead them into a deeper knowledge, power and understanding of Jesus Christ. The ending result is that I find myself facing intimidation, heartbreak, I encounter the shallow, nonspiritual nature of men, I encounter tremendous tremendous frustration, embarrassment, shame and awkwardness. I enjoy it deeply despite my well known aversion of any kind of pain. I literally have to stalk and follow people who want nothing to do with me, or with my calling, or with the Lord that I love so dearly in my heart of hearts despite my incredible weaknesses.

After my split from Tv ministry, the Lord paired me up with a friend i’d like to call Captain Wonder, which is his nickname by the way. He and I are worlds apart, but connected both by blood and by faith. He is my brother in Christ and I love him dearly, and affectionately.. But I was having trouble dealing with his way of looking at things recently. I had sent a story of mine that I wanted him to read. I know well how deeply restless his soul is, and how impatient he is, and how being outrageously extroverted is all that he knows. Still I wanted him to know my thoughts, my stories and my soul. I sent him the link to my wordpress account. I had chosen a story that I had written three years ago about a young man in a new city. I had gone through great efforts to send him that link, since finding this particular story meant that I spend half an hour searching through my posts since I have written around 400-500 of them. I also don’t share my works with people, since I know that their insecurity often parades as criticism and insight. Five minutes later, I get a reply from him stating that I used too many commas, full stops and that he couldn’t understand what I meant. Naturally I was hurt, upset and discouraged by his reply, but I wished to overlook it.

A few days passed and then he sent his writings to me. He had had a dramatic encounter at a temple in Thiruvanamalai a few years ago, which is a local religious hotspot for hindu devotees who view it as some sort of mystical shrine of their gods.. Wasting his life around material excess and moral confusion, he felt his soul encounter the truth of Christ in a place as spiritually dead as Thiruvanamalai. That touch had inspired him to walk with Christ, although he was struggling with direction and witness. I went over his written message, I enjoyed its vulnerability, I enjoyed its emotions and I enjoyed its effort. I understood what it meant, I understood also its unspoken emotion. If I had used his same critique about grammar, language and punctuation, his work was a disorderly mess. A casual reader would’ve discarded it the moment he would’ve picked it up. His understanding of the language was as astounding as his complete ignorance of how to use it with power, imagination and conveying a story. His thoughts had no order, it did not have the power to convey what he wished to say, his grammar was as correct as the random order of stuff in a garbage can. His understanding of his profound spiritual insight was as uninspiring as a cold wave of the sea with no color and life… These are observations that speak about the outer nature of things.. Which is the Biblical way.. the Bible points out outer ugliness to correct an inner dysfunction…I did not wish to gloat over my glee at his inability, I was a wounded healer and a preacher who often used both roles to convey scriptural truths. It was not his offensive response to my story that bugged me, it was more than that. I have a fellowship that met regularly on thursdays, where he is an active member. He has supported, provided for and shouldered that ministry from the start. But there were personal attitudes that were very demeaning, controlling, confused and power driven that I wished to help him understand, give him the inspiration to change and draw him closer to Jesus which was my ultimate goal. Working directly with people helps one understand the immense spiritual distance that exists between God and man, and how man often times assumes the greatest things about himself which are often deceptive and untrue.

I called him up and asked him if we could eat outside. He readily agreed. We hit up a local tandoori place and were very soon sinking our teeth into some grilled barbecue chicken, one of the finest in Vellore. I asked him about how things were going, I asked him the condition of his faith and his day. Midway through, in his method of apologizing he opened up about why he couldn’t read it. I asked him if he was ready for a few spiritual insights..? To which he replied that he was. I asked him how he would feel if his hardwork, endless nights of frustration, blood, sweat and tears ended up in a person’s hands and he dismissively cast it aside.. Understanding the response and trying to use familiarity as a way of encountering it, he talked about how he could understand what I was saying, and that he knew why I was saying the stuff that I was saying. Ministry work has helped me see that people often upset by making you feel upset in a way that is very subtle, but avoids an exposition of things that they are rebelling in.

I empathized with his convicting pain, I told him that this was how most of us were like towards the Lord, and that we were so blatantly disrespectful towards Him and His wants but pester and get from Him things that we want. I told my friend that we are all least concerned about the Lord’s feelings but only consumed by our own. I told him as a friend that I myself was an ugly sinner whose good works were like filthy rags, but that Christ enables me serve, love and obey Him. He grew silent, maybe for the first time in decades he learned to see a thing in the eyes of God’s most intense longing for humanity. The Lord makes us to become like Him. He enjoys who we are, but He knows that we can only touch the world if we are like Him.

Friends, I leave you with these stories, personal accounts and discoveries until the next time. God bless you and may you discover the king of Kings and know and understand that He is the ultimate treasure, passion and life worth living for.

First hit… Memories of shame

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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)

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‘ 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.

Accepting God’s authority – Confessions

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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

Useless infatuations – A Short Story( Imaginary)

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I stared at the TV screen.

I am not falling for her again.., She is taken.. She is taken…!!

Plus He is perfect and they are like totally into each other.. and plus it’s a sin..,It must be… I don’t trust myself.. I’ve done this way too often.. Isn’t this supposed to be along the lines of Adultery..? Technically Adultery is an exchange of bodily fluids or a wish for such an experience… Even thinking about it made it wrong.., Grrr, Although this is similar.., this is more along the lines of longing for someone and being blind to everything else.

Couldn’t I just keep this personal feeling all to myself..? And let it either die inside or subside when it wants to..? I am done battling this for a year now…, I am supposed to be more grounded, realistic and mature now… Help me Lord… Err Lord… Where are you..? I’m having a mini breakdown..! Help!!

The guy at the counter was occupied in the world of delivery calls, his own personal spirit partaking in all of the continual rush of demands, he was absorbed terrifically in his own mundane existence, his face was putting up a facial counter that displayed the varied streams of his conflicting emotions and turbulent feelings. I felt a little bit self conscious, I was being taken in.. I had to put on a show to establish my presence…or something of that nature… I didn’t have any decent clothes in my Dad’s apartment…, None of my favorites anyway.. None of my rugged, loose jeans or the unbearably striped, half cut, half sleeved shirts that accentuated my presence in a way that was socially acceptable… I only had clothing paraphernalia related to basketball… a couple of Nike sweat shirts, Loads of shorts and jerseys of my basketball heroes was all that I had…, Luckily I had one of my old t shirts… I threw that on me and had revved up my malnourished bike in order to reach Domino’s .. I wanted some pizza.. Sure I was from a middle class family that dangled between the socially conscious echelons of upper society and the meddling, vicious gripping middle class and her disturbias, I was whoever I wished to be.., I was not doing this for the hip, acceptance of mainstream City folks… I wanted Pizzas, and not because they were made in Italy and baked with an assortment of fine spices… I am a food junkie, I love, enjoy and devour Food.., I was going to marry a fabulous cook one day mark my words, I was going to propose to her over Bruno Mars ‘Marry You’…, and then teach her to dougie, and live happily ever after over hot, spicy Indian food.

Domino’s charged an obscene sum for taste, an average meal would cost me anywhere between 50-60 bucks, but now I had to shell out ten times that amount for what they convinced me was normal… Corporate Thieves .., I hated how brands were so expensive and cocky about it too.. Like you couldn’t ask anything back from them…, The customer was a clueless participant in a bossy game of manipulation and deception…Anyway to more earthly matters… The skies were cloudy… It had rained for hours, and ruined all of my chances of playing basketball… I hate it when that happens.. I just had a day of play left now…, and then I would be sucked into the world of adulthood and it’s irritating, impersonal demands… I gritted my teeth.. I could not exactly do anything about it, I just had to accept it as something that I can’t change for the here and now, and pretend that it does not hurt. Passion is such a curse sometimes.

It had been a few years since I had worn my Green T shirt, it stretched against my 28 year old body, becoming tinier against my body frame… I looked like a philosophical thug.. At least that’s what I thought or would like to assume… I always wander around in my head with favorite labels that I enjoy and put on, choosing from one like choosing from vinyl records..,and occupying one whenever I encountered the people of the world’s surface, chiefly because I was both an occupant and a rebel of the human existence plan, while I was going to be here.. I was going to do things my way… I have many personality sub cultures within, they are all as varied as my fine tastes…. The Weeping, Alienated Artist who viewed emotional dysfunction as the source of artistic inspiration,…. The Melancholic Philosopher who used scenes from windows and street sidewalks to create hymns and ballads of the undermined human spirit,…. The Hurt and Lonely Poet who still dwelt on heartbreaks from the age of 22 onwards, The Obscure Loner who felt the sheer cry of his immortal soul as it lived beneath the cosmic universe and amidst billions of blind souls ,The Tiger metaphor from Jorge Luis Borges’ Poem- I have a tiger inside of me, The Master of Shadows in a world of gleaming lights, The Colorful Wallflower who gleaned important clues during conversations for his own personal social commentary and sermons, The Sinful Saint who was locked in a deadly battle between the great heights of Heaven and the dismal depths of Hell, The Warm selfless disciple of Christ who enjoyed the company of simpletons and non believers.., The talkative, and compassionate friend of Humanity and her unbearable woes, The Dark Knight whose mission was to protect and serve, The Unknown Hero who was willing to risk his life for strangers, The Fierce Warrior who refused to give up on his dreams, his visions and his freedom, The Meditative Fighter who accepted his mortality and it’s serious limitations, An Eagle that soared in the highest heavens and gathered power to live the Christian life, A black panther running across tree limbs in a magical forest of mazes and labyrinths, the Ever Awakened Writer who had to write in order to feel sane , The Eternal Thinker discovering clues in the wide spectacle of life to the important truths that offer pure refreshment and joy to the human spirit, The Christly Dreamer who held and hosted conversations all the time with characters from my own life …, I needed characters when I encountered people.. Or else I would lack the clarity and the emotional disposition necessary for people and their engrained, conditioned ideas of what normal is all about,…. Or else I would feel left out… in all sorts and varieties of intensities, I was too deep.. The only world that made sense to me was my own.. But I have a calling higher than my own comforts, my own thoughts of pleasure and greater than my own personal greatness.

I was too spiritual about life, I probed beneath everything, breaking away the structure…and discovering what is truly important..I enjoyed the world below. The World of personal feelings, thoughts, ideas, stories.. The Symbolic world of the Abstract, the deep connection that we have to events, messages and Godly things…, I have asked God many times…, Help me hear people’s thoughts.., I want to be You without the Powers.. Yeah, “the motive behind each intention behind the inception” type… I guess I don’t realize the seriousness of what I am asking for… I can’t bear the teeny weeny evil in my corner of the world without being upset, broken and destroyed for days… I am too intense that I am like a walking self destructive nuclear bomb.

There is something deeper about this life, I can’t deal with reality’s insomnia, . Masks, Facades, Lies and Performances did not inspire me, I needed Christ to survive all this terrific, meaningless mess of an existence.. He is like a drug… even though I do a terrifically pathetic job of following Him and being like Him in my life…, I am just a rectified ex addict of the world and her glories.

I was nursing a dying infatuation, I was actively trying to get it out of my system.., I can’t deal with such complications now.. I am 28.., I am not that young, impulsive wild child that I was once upon a time…I am a semi preacher slash Shepherd, preaching on television.., And a decoder of what Faith means to us as a people.., How could I feel such an intensity for someone who was seriously a thousand miles away from me and had no desire or attraction towards me…? Didn’t she have somebody in her life already…? That automatically increased the guilt just a little bit…Wasn’t attraction supposed to be mutual..? I had spoken to the Lord about it.., I had been praying for a life partner for quite a while now … Well Sort of.. . My prayers for healing, families and the divine stilling of clouds and their attraction to geographical locations that I find myself in are powerful, strong.. without any room for doubt.. Bring talk about my future marital situation and I am left with doubts and contemplation.. Marriage is overrated in my opinion, and also the only way to have a meaningful relationship with another person.., I wonder if I even want marriage..! 95 percent of my classmates have fallen down, I am one of the few who has braved past the age of 27… the past two years of singleness were trying as I attempted to find or rather still down my haphazard romantic energies down and shift my focus on things that really mattered, like Evangelism, Servant-hood, Submission to the Lord, Service, Mentoring and Apologetics…, I long wonder how I had not fallen into some serious, awkward and one sided infatuation yet.., Wala my prayers or rather my own self proclaimed prophecies became fulfilled.., For two strong years, I bypassed silly romantic thoughts.., Dismissing them with ease.., I had enough scars from either a direct rejection or an indirect rejection to last a lifetime.., I didn’t want more Drama.., ‘I would like to find somebody trouble free now’ I thought to myself…. And then she came back.., halting all of my moral powers and stripping me of my strength, casually demolishing every bit of my defenses and resilience in the subject matter. I was a counselor who warned kids of the dangers of falling for the girl who was never into you for crying out loud.., and I am left in a situation where I am afraid to try for fear of moral failure, and afraid to give up in case there is some semblance of a chance . Kudos to you Lucifer, you know how to find the chinks in my armor don’t ya..?

I put in a word to my Heavenly Father every now and then.., wondering if I even wanted what I was asking for.., I mean the Judgment of the World is pretty close..,… Plagues.. Famines.. Earthquakes.. Groanings and the preparation of the world to come…, The Apocalypse could arrive any second now… , A one world government..? Military rule..? The Antichrist ..? The Second coming of Christ could happen anytime soon.., What about Persecution in India, it’s getting pretty intense right..? What if I were to die a Martyr for the sake of Christ..? What if I chose to remain celibate as an act of complete submission..? I’m seriously wondering if I want to get married just because I know I will do something pretty stupid and damaging if given a chance, despite my spiritual calling, platform and blessings… Once a fool, always a fool..! I have lived in holy fear for the past two years, choosing to live as a spiritual monk… free of the desires that pollute and conquer.

“But like Lord, I was strong for so long right..? I mean I honored you with my thoughts, I stayed true to you.. I overcame so many situations of lustfulness, attraction, temptations, possibilities.. I tried my best to be true to You.. You know that I have.. but this silly one sided infatuation is so stressful for me right now Father.. I mean can’t you please just kill it..? I know that Pain is the price for feeling love, but like you stilled Tsunami sized waves in the middle of an ocean by just a show of Your hands..Please stop this madness within me Lord.., I have not even settled yet.., I mean I am serving You now and stuff… Full time and all.. I’d really like no distractions.. You know how many times I’ve been hurt before.., Please..Stop giving me such a hard time on this issue alone.” I begged inwardly, I thought that I was over this. Please don’t teach me any lessons using this person alone, especially her… Maybe I have developed, intense unhealthy feelings that could be called.. Dare I say it..Love..???!!

After the marriage of two of my major crushes who I hoped were going to be my special someone for life.. i.e., atleast one of them was… I guess it’s time I developed feelings for somebody so that I would not feel so wrecked and ruined whenever somebody that I was once interested in goes AWOL, or taken mysteriously out of the count of this planet’s population…. Kari Jobe married someone with a guitar who proposed near a beach.., I mean seriously.. Come on, give me a break here…, I want a little happy ending or beginning here too..Ya know..?

I had been alone for too long this week…, I didn’t feel that connected to the normal rhythms and conversational cues of everyday folk, the laptop had been a friend…, as had been the concrete playgrounds where the ball hit the floor.., My city friends were a controlled mess.. , they were just either cerebral or too power hungry, and mechanically in a place where it felt normal.., My week is about to run out.., I had to wake up tomorrow and meet with a friend, and then snap some pics in order to fill up my Instagram, and remember each and every part of the city as I sat in my desk and dreamt of my freedom and my bookstore that I was going to open in a few months.

I just needed to calm the fink right now.., I needed a desperate line… I needed to engage the Skinny, determined counter guy who could not have been more than 24 years old, in a way that was suitable to my tastes… He appeared strained, sad about working late into the night.., hurt by the pushy, loud and demanding bunch a few tables away… perhaps he wanted the restaurant alone..? It must have been a pretty long day.., Now what is delivery banter all about….?

I needed a character or else the life of that place, the life of it’s contents, the emotions of it’s inhabitants would occupy me…and become alive, I again began to think of her.. She seems to free me of all social awkwardness… I enjoy the imaginary conversation that I don’t have the courage to have in real life, and which can never happen since because things are never how they appear to be.., I wonder if I am making a mistake by even talking to her in my heart.., I wonder if there are specific laws in the Bible for the heart.., only one harsh verse comes up to greet me… ‘The heart is desperately wicked…, for out of it flows forth all evil deeds…’, I don’t have the ability to accept it’s truth, I wonder if it applies to my context. Maybe it does, opening up to the necessary efforts to clean up sin has never been my strongest suit.. but I got to do it, I don’t want to be caught up in some imaginary web of expended emotions, unrealistic expectations and silly imaginations that led nowhere.

Taking in the melting yellowish flowing, liquilicious floors I tried to still my preparation of the awaiting painfulness that would undoubtedly follow the death of a dream. With the endless efforts of lost hope replay what was not to be, and attempt an explanation even though none is possible.. Life goes by so fast, some get it and some don’t.. The cruelty between such worlds is limitless, I often wonder if the Lord sees the sensitive souls whose hearts are often full of deep fractures, twisted heart sprains, deep and sharp aches and open hurts..? Why do we as a human race long so desperately for love even though it often is full of what is already in our lives..?

I needed to spend sometime alone with the Lord… This was not right.., I mean I was a gentleman.., I may have made some ludicrous life decisions in the past, but I was guided by my feelings.., I did not have Godly intuition within me.., I was just a shy kid…! I was not going to jeopardize other people and their lives, I would rather allow it to die within me.., if I was capable of such heroic acts…, I am so frustrated… How can I develop such feelings for somebody that I’ve never ever met..? I gritted my teeth, I’ve pulled myself out of so many heartaches and rejections, I can do it again.., I say to myself.. But do I have to.., i’d like to become oblivious to the whole game for once.., I am not so keen anymore about putting my vulnerable self out there. I guess I trust the Lord to bring the right person at the right time, I just would love for it to be her.., but I am too wise to know the ways of the world.

I picked up my order after waiting for half an hour.., it was quite busy despite the time of night.., I stared into the wet roads with muddy trails and the hurrying vehicular marvels shooting past me like fallen stars, how splendidly magnificent was the outer world..? Why did I have to search for meaning within murky, emotional depths that offered nothing but pain and turmoil..? Why did I have such a predisposition for gloom, darkness, sadness and self sabotage..? I picked up my bike and kick started it, I was a star, a shining iridescent meteor full of brilliant sparks lighting up the gloomy, darkness of Hell upon this earth..I will find my way out, my God was the God of wonders, infinite power and honor.., Forget my weaknesses, I glory in them…, for they help me see the glorious power of my Savior.

Letters and Poems to God – Lamentations

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I get hints every now and then in my heart,
Painful reactions to something written, said or given.
I wonder why I feel that way,
is there truth to what I feel…?
How can I know I’m ever right,
I am led by the Bible and not by my feelings,
I refuse to allow intuitions, instincts and reactions to
guide me without subjecting them to tests,
I try to be decisive, firm and sound,
But I still find myself flexible, open and willing.
My well of empathy runs deep despite my
own harsh judgments,
I do find myself getting angry with individuals,
I see myself judging them by their actions,
I find myself avoiding people because of their
inner contents, I know it intuitively often..,
but I can’t stand the fact that an absolute will has
to shape and sharpen all of our actions…
Why can’t I just be free without the consequences..?
Why should I be constantly aware, awakened and cautious
about what I speak, think, do and engage in..?
I understand that evil in this time is hidden, one can completely be
caught up in sin and not know much truth to help him flee it.
I sometimes wish that there wasn’t a heaven or a hell,
I hate to know that billions of souls are going to Hell’s eternal torments,
I myself think that I am going to land up there,
Faith and religion seems to demand perfection,
I am not sure if I want such a life…,
It feels tremendously challenging and hard…,
I can’t be caught up in all of this..,
My spirit is fettered and my heart is pained by
all this insidious madness.

I guess it’s not how I would deal with things,
I can’t understand the harsh nature of people,
I understand their intentions, but I still wish things weren’t so black and white.
I guess I am soft, I don’t need toughening up..,
I’ve already by passed all of that to reach where I am
at right now..,
I am willing to accept that I need guidance, compassion
and often times correction.
I hate feeling like I am always in need of correction and change,
I despise the terrible inward pain, I wish I could stop my lustful sinning,
But I can’t seem to stop.., Help me.. , I need a miracle to make me stop.

But I can’t seem to take it in stride,
I bristle, react, defend or counter testify.
It seems very evil to constantly be checked and condemned of
inward attitudes that are against Godly standards,
I can’t start a revolution or rebel against the system..,
this is all there is.. There are no other options,
I hate Christians who warn, condemn me with slogans and judge me with Bible verses… I understand their intentions, but I still wish that things weren’t so hard..,
I am very weak when it comes to being confronted with sinfulness,
I hurt in ways that one can’t ever imagine,
I do my best to stay away, to kill those urges,
but I realize that sin is very much a part of who I am.
I am not just a sinner, in this world, I am the sin
that is causing all the disorders.
I guess that I am more interested in being a human than in
wanting to think of eternal choices,
I need God despite all of this madness,
I hate sin, but still I love it,
I hate myself, but I still enjoy the life that I am given,
I can’t do all of this alone, I will accept the fact that maybe,
I don’t know all that there is to life,
I just need some help with this sin,
please stop telling me about my act and my failure,
Lift me up and heal me of my own inner burning fire,
Please Lord, I need You even though i’m pretty sure
I am against everything that you ever ask of me…,
I’m sorry I feel this way.. I guess I just need you to help
me understand things from your eyes and ways,
I feel more for my humans despite the fact that they
ignore me everyday, hate me, kill me, murder me and
reject me…, I don’t presume that I feel more than You Father.. ,
I am just telling you that I feel protective of everyone down here,
Are we just burning materials or sons and daughters with Freewills and Independence…?

I can’t stand this infuriating mess Lord,
I am a wreck when you leave,
I don’t run to You because satan crushes, oppresses and defeats me with ease,
I don’t know why I love You, I am confused,
I am scared too, of You especially,
and of Hell too.., I couldn’t stand a burn in my finger,
I can only look forward to my eternal torture.
The more I want things to be done in my way,
the more I feel tired, dejected and pained,
it’s like choosing me is not choosing You..,
It’s like there is no inbetween,
and You stand by me without telling me anything,
I’d like a word from You every now and then,
like how about every single day..? Every single minute..?
I’d like your thoughts when I am indecisive, anguished and lurking around sin,
I’d like your thoughts when I am confused, hurt and broken,
I’d at the very least like you to reach me when I find it hard, impossible and difficult to reach out to You…,
I don’t need much Lord, I just need a light touch,
I can carry my burdens, I can face a million rejections from girls that I’ve spent years day dreaming about, I know that I will be destroyed and humiliated,
Ill probably ponder my death,
but all of that is irrelevant, I just need a little loving from You in the ways that I want to every now and then… I mean, I know You send millions of blessings everyday…, I am grateful for them, even though I feel that I am just another ungrateful wretch who takes advantage of your Grace.
Just yesterday, You saved me from being run over by a speeding car, Again.
You helped me love some unlovable, unlovely and ordinary friends,
You fed me, nourished me, gave a roof over my head,
I don’t know Lord… I just need more of You.. A lot more,
I can’t just enjoy all of this rebuking, confronting and reacting.
I want to be connected to You..,
To your depths, to your infinite glory,
I don’t know why I need you so intensely Lord.. I just do..,
I promise You that I don’t have any agendas, You’ll know it within an instant,
I don’t want to constantly be judging people for their sexual preferences,
Like most of your other servants, I know their intentions are honorable,
I just feel more hate than love in their sentiments, doctrines and messages.
Can I see the evil and dubious deception in such a world influenced stance, Yes.. But am I evil..? My Yes is far more dangerous than theirs will ever be,
I am on the road to Hell too aren’t I..?
Why on earth am I even worried about them..?
When I am trembling and having nightmares every other day about my own eternal destiny..?
I don’t know what to do Lord… I really really don’t.
I hate my job, the attitudes of people around me,
I hate it that the sad street dogs don’t have homes,
I hate it that people are so rude, self consumed and proud,
I hate it that this world is a mess,
I hate it that children are raped, that women don’t get equal rights,
that gays are not loved..,
I hate the fact that I am such a self destructive time bomb,
I hate the fact that I can never seem to satisfy You,
I hate the fact that I can’t do what I WANT..,
I hate the fact that I can’t play basketball all day long,
that I can’t write for hours on end, that I can’t read books
all day.., I hate it all…, I feel trapped, doomed and deeply insecure,
I am not obsessed with blessings, anointings or platforms either,
I just don’t know what I want sometimes,
even though my words reveal more clarity than what I feel.
Help me….!