Tuesday, November 29

Peddling to freedom …

One of the reasons I love riding a bicycle or trekking is that it gives me plenty of time to think and to meditate.  Every time I am on a trail, long or short, I keep thinking to myself all about that I am : Who are the newsmakers in my town? What are the news they make? … Then another frequent question that rolls out is to figure out who is better or worse than I am. Sometimes these questions will take miles out of my trail ... mile out of my peddling.  I do not really remember peddling 40 Km. or so with these thoughts ringing in my heart, because the empty tracks just pass away.

However, are these questions and thoughts important to God? I think it is unimportant to God. I don’t think God like the idea of me fixing a little niche in humanity over and against other people. What is more important is to understand my smallness in God’s plan and repent for all the wrongs that I have done to His creation. 

This feeling of the wrong doings to God’s creation must bring to me a freedom from all the arrogance, from all the judgments, and from all the condemnations that I make in my thoughts and deeds.

Next peddling must be free from the countless hours making up my mind about others. Why should I be satiated with an unceasing exchange of opinions about people close by or far away.  I think, I myself is the first person that needs a change ...  I myself is the great newsmaker that needs a change of heart ...  and probably the only once whose heart I indeed can change! 
I think riding a bicycle is a great fun and enjoyment...
and I am lucky enough to do what I enjoy!

 Peddling to freedom through these empty tracks is an absolute fun and a smooth thrill. This sleepy town is yet to wake-up to a beautiful Advent morning ...


Saturday, November 12

... the dumb beast

"In the glance of a dumb beast is speech understood by the souls of the wise."                                                    
                                                                                          ....  AN INDIAN POET

Monday, November 7

Just as I am ...

I have been waiting… 
not knowing what to think, what to read, what to pray.
Yet, there is an urge in me, to think, to read, to pray.
And, some of the long days have passed by…
    some of the uncertain ideas kissed me bye.
God tried to talk with me. I couldn’t listen. He said He would try another time.
I am just as I am. 

I ask the Lord to guide me…
    least I do not trespass areas and people who doesn't  need me.
Like the weakening rains at the tail end of the monsoon, 
life is all poised for a change.
How can I be, just as I am? 

I find it difficult to pen.  Why?
Have I drained off all my thoughts away?
The daily living has held me tight in her bosom:  making the home and helping the family.
The daily office and the workouts…the daily people and the places… 
       they all form my daily living...
Just as I am.   

I have been attempting to read, to think, and to pray. 
Yet, I have fallen short of it all.  
I must start to light candles again...I must start to smell the early blooms of the weakening rain.
I must start to break the silence that has retarded my spirits and the evenings that has stolen my zest.
I must start to spark the day with joy and long lost nights with love.  
I must start... Just as I am 

Waiting is a difficult emotion,
People light candles for an immediate motion.
"God, come, come quickly!" 

Yet, I sit somewhere quietly ... (I know God wouldn't come so quickly) !
I am just as I am.


Tuesday, November 1

November 2nd .... All Souls' Day

"God, you turn men back to dust, saying,
“Return to dust, O sons of men.”
For a thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by,
or like a watch in the night.  
You sweep men away in the sleep of death;
they are like the new grass of the morning —
though in the morning it springs up new,
                      by evening it is dry and  withered"

"God, we are consumed by your anger and terrified by your indignation.

You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence. All our days pass away under your wrath; 
we finish our years with a moan.

      ...they are like new grass of the morning,
though in the morning it springs up new,
by evening it is dry and withered...

The length of our days is seventy years—or eighty, if we have the strength; yet their span is but trouble and sorrow, 
for they quickly pass, and we fly away."

“Lord God, who knows the power of your anger? 
For your anger is as great as the fear that is due you.
Teach us to number our days aright, 
that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

*** Verses from the Holy Bible (Psalm 90)