Saturday, March 27

Growing Up Right....

This old picture was hanging in my late Aunt’s office since the time I remember. However, it was only yesterday that I realised the message: growing up right! Well, isn’t life all about growing up right? And it is where I mess it up most!!

Sunday, March 21

Glimpses of Glory...

One of the joys of climbing high is the joy of look down upon the vista around. Then, as we look up from that vantage position, there is the majesty of the rolling skies...the splendour of ‘on top of the world’ feeling and the feel good factor of our position on earth.

Holy Bible says that, ‘the whole earth is full of God’s glory’. But then, the morning news tells us that there is a struggle between the Glory and the Evil. However, life on earth is made possible only because the Glory supersedes the Evil... the Sun over Darkness and the good over bad.

It is a great joy to feel and envelope oneself with the glimpses of Glory in the very act of God called creation. Most times I love to bask myself all around creation with a deep sense of God. In any trek, in any walk with nature, it is an occasion to reemphasise my beliefs that the grandeur of the mountains, the deep blue sky all around, the cool clean air, the blades of grass, millions of wild flowers in bloom, a little warmth of the sun here and there, the beaches, the surf and the sea is all over flowing with God’s glory.

Glimpses of Glory enable us to know God with heart-knowledge that will help us to delight in him. Evil will always be overtaken by the Glory. And, creation will inch to God’s destiny.

*** Photo: Himalayan sky, on the way down from Roopkund

Friday, March 12

My weekend thoughts....

Glory comes wrapped in the ordinary:
a spider web, wearing the morning's dew
a mistake, reflected upon and learned from
an autum tree letting go of her leaves
a spring tree putting leaves on again
a wound, embraced and understood.

** Verses from 'a tree full of angels' by Macrina Wiederkehr.

The Wicked Postman

Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, mother dear?
The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all wet, and you don’t mint it.
Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother to come home from school. What happened to you that you look so strange? Haven’t you got a letter from father today?

I saw the postman bringing letters in his bag for almost everybody in the town.
Only, father’s letters he keeps to read himself. I am sure the postman is a wicked man.
But don’t be unhappy about that, mother dear. Tomorrow is market day in the next village. You ask you maid to buy some pen and papers.

I myself will write all father’s letters; you will not find a single mistake.
I shall write from A right up to K. But, mother, why do you smile?
You don’t believe that I can write as nicely as father does!
But I shall rule my paper carefully, and write all the letters beautifully big.
When I finish my writing, do you think I shall be so foolish as father and drop it into the horrid postman’s bag?
I shall bring it to you myself without waiting, and letter by letter help you read my writing.
I know the postman does not like to give you the really nice letters.

**‘The Wicked Postman’ is by Tagore (from Crescent Moon). Tagore once said, “And when my voice is silent in death, My song will speak in your living heart”.

The Miniature stamp ‘Rabindranath Tagore’s Dakghar and the special Airmail cards (published during the World Philatelic Exhibition) are from my philatelic collections. Very rarely has India produced Airmail cards. Hence, they are special. ***