Saturday, April 30

To Have and To Hold

The moment I knew you as a Bubble in my Being,
The feeling of your fragile soul breathing within me,
The thought of knowing that I was partnering
In the greatest known miracle,
That moment of awe that I ‘helped’ creating,
That’s when it struck that this was truly ‘To have and to hold’

Those months of watching, waiting and praying,
The nervous excitement, the scans and reports
Those trips to the doctor, to watch you grow,
The awesome sense of wonder that had seized me so
That’s when I knew that this was indeed ‘To have and to hold’

When I laid my eyes upon you, you looked right into mine
Filling me with awe at the Power of the Divine
Throbbing was my heart, when they said “It’s a boy,
Though groggy after surgery, I was giddy with joy
And then when I held you for the very first time
That rush of love within was so sublime
Indeed that moment has stood still in time
And then I knew truly what it was To Have and To Hold

The agonizing wait of those eight years,
Getting angry at God or fighting my fears
Moments of swinging between hope and despair
Resigning, reviling to trusting in prayer
Reaching the point of saying ‘I don’t care’
Standing at the point, where my sorrows lay bare
That’s when Christ embraced me, and I felt His embrace
Then I knew what it was To have and To hold

The days are rolling by, yet the wonder doesn’t cease
And with each ticking minute, my love shall increase
In you I search for a little bit of me,
Though deep inside I know you came with your own identity
And through your little ways of trusting implicitly, depending completely and loving unabashedly
I learn of God’s great love and think of how much God pampers me!
Your innocent eyes, that cherubic smile, to these I am completely sold
Hugging you in my arms I know that this is truly to Have and to Hold

As we gratefully celebrate your second birthday,
With trembling hearts and lips we say,
“Lord, thank you for this miracle babe,
Born to us after a tireless wait
Teach us to bring him up in your mighty ways
So he will seek You today and every day
As with each passing hour Your plan you unfold
I will always remember what it is To Have and to Hold.”

 Written for little Joshua George Kathett who turns two today, April 30, 2011. Please uphold him and us as a family, in your prayers..

Wednesday, March 16

secret diary of Yours Truly

One of the things I loved and still love to do is write diaries....

I don't know how many people write diaries but even as a young girl I loved to write these 'secret' notes in 'my diary'...the notes were often a source of shame and embarrassment with an inquisitive little brother reading aloud, my  sometimes 'irreverent' thoughts penned down in the book that for me was just a notch below the Bible...a tirade of questions, a massive fist fight, warnings from Amma and some tears later the diary would be returned to its rightful owner for safekeeping away from the prowling eyes of the brat....
sometimes the diary entries would not be publicly read out but would be used as a threat....Do this or I will spill the beans....and the goody two shoes that i was I never did want to get into trouble....well, i mean who does?
At one point it was such an addiction that I would write on any page I found and often forget to tear them, leaving the world to read my anxious pained me when the 'world' read and mother gently chiding me not to leave my 'thoughts' lying around!
I remember this particular incident, when a cousin staying with us, coolly read my diary and then in all earnestness went and reported to my mother about my first crush (perhaps she feared that I would elope with the fellow!)....Amma ofcourse handled it with  her signature style...Cool Head and Hard Hitting Words....I still remember my eyes stinging with tears while wishing for a safe secret place for my diary.

The diary was often a gift from Amma, one from the many diaries that she got as a New Year gift at the office. These usually had 'Bank of XYZ' or 'ABC Co Ltd' emblazoned on the cover, sometimes with Ma's name embossed to add that 'special customer-is queen' touch to an otherwise boring looking book which would slip away into oblivion under the piles of files on any table.It was a nondescript, mostly maroon/brown rexine bound book, the first 50 pages of which were usually filled with irrelevant-to-my-teen-mind, phone numbers of police, fire stations, banks,branches of banks etc..etc..etc.

Writing diaries started as a way to admire my own write pages and pages of neat gibberish that made complete sense to me, then it began to feature in my list of 'hobbies' ...that actually helped me handle awkward conversations with people I didn't know. Sample this:
Appa and Amma at a get together introduce me to a girl they want me to be friends with (you know how parents can be....'Go play with her' they would if we had known each other forever..).
Girl (daddy's friend's brother's cousin's friend's daughter) : Hi! I am EneyWon
Me:  Yeah! Hi!...hmm,umm!...what are your hobbies?
Girl: Singing, Dancing...painiting
Me: I love to write diaries....
Girl: Oh! wow!....
And the conversation flows.....

Soon it became a thrill to own your very own secret...eventually though, after i realised that my 'privacy' was threatened by my curious little sibling and at the advice of Mother dearest who feared that my silly and harmless stories and idiotic imagination would be fodder for many unnecessary conversations at home , I decided to give up on diary lasted for some time until I resumed diary writing this time with adequate 'safety measures' like picking up the most boring looking diary and starting the page with 'Dear Jesus' and not 'Dear diary', hiding it behind a pile of lingerie and away from prying eyes....(he wouldn't look at girly stuff anyway!!!).....

With the passage of time, the entries underwent a transformation....I would write pages and pages...'Dear God,today was a good day/sad day...I began disappointments, loneliness, grief, anger, happy things, scary things....often as I wrote, I felt a voice chiding me if I were moping in self-pity, or humbling me if I had my head in the clouds......and diary writing transformed into recording prayers...."dear Jesus" became a more meaningful entry and topics ranged from the sundry to the serious....sometimes after a couple of months of writing an entry, I would read it to find that the issue had been sorted appropriately....From the petty to the most profound....I had never known a God who was so interested in the details....something miraculous was happening....I knew this because I was recording this in the diary....prayers were being answered and I was being transformed......

I still find it extremely liberating to write a Prayer diary....though i don't write regularly (There are no prying eyes, they've grown up and have their own prayer requests, I'm sure)  and I recommend it to you...write down your prayer request, however simplistic or sophisticated and submit it to God and then when you flip through those pages, you will see His faithfulness....

However there are some things I don't write about, things I cannot express.....but even when I don't ' record', I rest assured, that He knows what what's written on my heart!

Thursday, January 13


So 2011 has begun and we are well into the 13th day of the first month of this New Year. I began the year resolving to keep 'No Resolutions' but I am rethinking that resolve and trying to draw up a couple of resolutions that I can keep or may be break.
The New Year started on a quiet note for me, nothing fancy, the weather itself was such a spoilsport. It has been so chilly and cold and it is only now that the Sun has met with some success at trying to push its way through the fog and clouds...but the Sun's attempt was sincere, to say the least.

But I am looking forward to this 2011...especially now that I have some resolutions to keep, albeit simple ones...but I bet you agree with me that the simple ones are the ones that are tough to back in resolution every year would be...'I will get 90% in all my subjects'....eventually, I learnt not to keep unrealistic resolutions so my hopes don't get dashed.

Talking of hopes getting dashed, my heart goes out to the family of Rajeev Jolly Wilson, a strapping young man in his 30s who lost his very life, in a freak road rage incident....Devastating! I wonder where Tolerance and Peace are...The two probably realized that the last time they made news was when Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi was shot dead. Their Claim to fame - The Newspaper headlines on 31 January 1950...
                             MK Gandhi shot dead... end of the road for Tolerance  and Peace

Speaking of newspapers, there's been a significant change in what's been making news in the last couple of for me, I usually choose to start my day with the daily supplement mainly because this ensures harmony at home and there are no fights over who gets to read first. I choose to be the sweet, benevolent spouse ready to give up her claims!

Call me an escapist, but with news of road rage, murder, rape and honour killings, I would rather escape into the colorful pages of the Delhi times, where smiles may be fake and the grapevine rife with news of the    'Munnis'(courtesy: Dabangg) and Sheilas (courtesy  Tees Maar Khan) of our times, but at least it is a welcome relief, however short lived, from the stark news of our life and times. Indeed on the 1st of January 2011, Delhi woke up to the headline of how a  young woman had been brutally marauded by men who decided that the way to celebrate the New Year was by assaulting a woman's dignity and looting her of her greatest possession, her self esteem. This, on a day when more than 30,000 khaki clad were patrolling the streets of Delhi.
News has reached an all time high or low (pick what suits you) with inflation, sexual preferences, scams and crimes of passion hitting headlines...depressing.
Yet as I search for my haven in the glitz and glamour of the Supplement, I am innately aware, that this is not the real world because a lot of the celebs featured are paying fat salaries to their PR agents who do the job, that perhaps a lot of them are fighting depression, loneliness and alcohol and drug abuse and are battling their greatest fear of dying alone.
I shudder to think what a difficult world, my little boy has to grow up in...A world full of choices but no clear distinction between good and evil...where 'alternative' is the word of the day because it stamps a seal of approval over everything from lifestyle, religious belief, sexuality, food habits,agriculture and even fertility. 

Sigh....Sometimes I want to bundle up the little fellow and put him right back into my womb...where I can shield him. But then that's not possible and won't be correct. So then what will be?....

I guess it is time to take some resolutions. Not just frivolously but purposefully...not for the heck of it but to take stock of do my bit to create a better world for my little son, to teach him the value of prayer to train him to listen to God's voice in the cacophony of the world so that when 'alternative' becomes his 'Word of the Day'....His only alternative will be to listen his heart, a heart that is right with God.
Time to turn back to God....Thanking Him for the years so far and trusting Him with the year ahead.

Thursday, January 6

Happy tenth anniversary, Mancha!!!

We've made it thus far, crossed the first bridge,
Completed a decade in our Historical Hitch,
The walk's been good, since the one down the aisle,
We've already outlived the Seven Year Itch!

Being 'husband' and 'wife', sometimes made us twitch
I must admit, I've fancied if the 'roles' we were to 'switch'
So I claim not perfection and admit to many a glitch
But with Jesus in our hearts, we smoothened the marriage pitch

I know not why God chose you and me, His reasons still have me bewitched
We always agree to disagree in this, Our Glorious Hitch
Yet today completing 10 years of that Historical Hitch
I know this decade with you Manucha, has me so enriched.

I cannot think of better words that rhyme with the word 'hitch'!
So I am going to end this little poem, I hope you dont' say 'Tch, tch!!'

Before I go, I hope and pray that God gives ten times ten,
Another 90 years with you is what i'd like to spend
We'll grow old together, and laugh till we're in splits
In all the moments thus far, we've enjoyed most bits!

I thank you darling Mancha for having and holding me to be your 'lovely' wife
I may not be the Proverbs 31 woman, but I sure as heck have tried.

So God be with us Mancha; Joshua, you and me,
For He saw through our emptiness and made us family
We'll get by with God, through the laughter and the pain,
And this I pray till life's end, devoted to Him, we remain

Thursday, December 3

shame on me

alright alright! i accept, i have been away far too long to tender an apology. i cannot tender a resignation since this blog is really me and I cannot resign from myself...i have tendered too many apologies as well and i have kept my little blog hoping that i will get back soon...soon has never been this well, what can i say, shame on me...but well the positive spirit in me never dies and i have been wanting to tell you so many things that i shamelessly come back.

So why is this time any different- my little bro from Down Under, Ashi sent me a sleek Net book, that is my latest obsession as of now and gives me no reason to not be able to blog. we still have to get a WiiFii connection (hope that's the way to spell it, any way you can't tell)

but this time, hopefully this time, it is going to be for good and for a long time. lots of changes, lots of events, lots of happenings, lots to report, lots to be joyful of, lots to be embarassed of, lots to the words of Robert Frost....I stil have promises to keep and miles to go before i sleep...yes miles to go before i sleep...
Sounding so profound and melancholic. well i am pushing 30 now and so i must look and act profound to say the least. so that's it from me...another post on Hope for my Hopeless, you are not hopeless, i am are my without hope....

you gotta trust me this time, again...i know it ain't the first time...but surely all the nice news i have to tell you will make up for it....look, don;t sulk now ok..i even placed an apt title to this post...i have made my apology public...lets forgive and forget...
Love for now and always...

Monday, August 3

Happy Birthday to Me!

turned thirty today and now thirty doesn't seem old...back in school we would talk of thirty year olds as though they were 60...but now at 30 having completed 3 decades of life, 'old' is the last thing i am feeling....may because this birthday is so veryspecial to me....very very a Mommee now...Joshua my little son is born to me this mom was 21 when she had me and i was 21 when i got married, which means she was as young as 42, but when mylittle one is 21...i would have already completed my Golden Jubilee...sheesh, now that does feel a little old...Maybe when i do touch 50...old is the last thing i will feel...Until then look on the bright side, it will be so much easier for Joshua to calculate his mother's age since she is a multiple of 10 as compared to his age....Knowing my dyslexia towards Math (and I sure hope the little boy hasn't inherited that gene!) these tricks should come in handy for calculations...\ random is is my birthday and i celebrated it in style....Pa took me for a great dinner at this amazing seven star hotel called Dream...Ma and Joshua in tow, we had a fantastic buffet...husbandji is away in delhi so maybe i will have another celebration, let's just see!!! Until then I will be 30 going on 13!!

Saturday, April 11

Ghosts of the Past - Musings on a Holy Saturday in 2009

They crept up around her, she didn’t know a thing. They startled and scared her. They even surprised her. Were they still lurking around…lurking around in the dark corners of her soul, her heart, her very being? These Ghosts of the Past!

She had read somewhere that time is the greatest healer, she had even believed it, had hope in it and for a little less than a decade she had also been able to live it to the fullest but may be some sores are just too deep to be healed completely. Those years gone by were blissful…blissful because of the associated oblivion…she became innately aware of the fact that it was indeed only the oblivion which had kept them away…only the oblivion…because they were still lurking, lurking in the dark corners of her heart…These Ghosts of the Past!

And now she stood face to face, they were staring at her, laughing mercilessly, poking fun at her…These Ghosts of the Past.

She wanted to run…run far far away… for the truth and the pain of this was bitter...Why was the truth of it bitter? Strangely because the Truth was one big Lie and there was nothing she could do to change that. She felt extremely helpless in the face of it and try as she might, she could not change it…the sorrow overwhelmed her as she dwelt upon the absurdity of life and another’s life having such a deep impact upon her.
Why? Why? Why? Certain questions are much like hitting one’s head upon a wall. Other than the hurt and the bloodied state of the head, there is nothing one can gain out of this.

She had moved on, or so she thought. But when they came for her again, she felt like a soldier without his armour…the open battlefield and the enemy advancing…They mocked at her, jeered at her, called her names…these Ghosts of the Past.

But she thought she was made of stronger stuff…she had matured over the years. Mellowed a great deal, Life had been gracious but also taught her some beautiful lessons. But today she felt helpless; she had abhorred that feeling, that feeling of helplessness where she could do nothing. Nothing she said or did seem to make any difference. Oh! How she loathed that feeling, that emotion of being less loved despite having gone the extra mile.

She turned her face away, her eyes tightly shut, the brimming tears could hold on no longer, they gave up their balancing act and trickled down from the rims of her eyes. Then a strange peace wafted around her…a strange peace…the kind that passeth all understanding.
Her mind took her to a Face, disfigured, with a broken jaw, wounds on every inch of space on that Face, a bloodied mess! Yet through it she saw a smile…the smile startled her. How could one smile through all this pain? The smile seemed to say…I felt the same, yesterday…

Yesterday?... yesterday was Good Friday.

Note: Dear readers, perhaps a lot of you are wondering about the meaning of this post. That Saturday, I was thinking about how certain memories in our life just lie, ideas, thoughts we think we have gotten over and then suddenly when they rear up again, how we are caught unawares. i was just pondering on that thought, when these words flowed on to form this post...I didn't think too much before penning down this post...just allowed my fingers to type effortlessly and speak whatever was coming to mind...perhaps some one can find a reflection of themselves, an old fear, a little guilt, a feeling of being hurt...resurfacing and causing us to gasp...So what is it that we do....I gave it back to the One who took away all the pain, all the sins, all the trauma, threw it in the deep, blue sea and as some nice preacher said it, 'He put up a sign saying- NO FISHING'