Monthly Archives: March 2016

The Call (and memories)

A quiet afternoon,

Your deep sound ,

Oh so sad and sweet;

Brings back memories

Of a childhood long ago.

The melancholy of thoughts

From time so distant.


Is it true that you

Are a  harbinger of rain?

Is it possible that your

Call is so significant?

Where do you disappear

The rest of the year.


I hear you so often

But seldom see;

And can only hear

The  response

And understand

You are not alone.


So you disappear

And reappear

To give us good news

Of  more rains

And  more memories

Of times that unfold


Who is He

Who gives any authority to a ruler. Through the ages, countries have been ruled, by various forms of government.

However is it man who gives this authority. There have been royalties, when kingships were handed over from one generation to another. Many other countries have witnessed dictatorships and others with elections.

The form of rule varied depending on the various countries and their cultures, and way of life. Rulers have come and gone. Some with fame and others infamy. With every passing generation it is always felt that, “ how did we survive a bad ruler” or after a good ruler has left “ why did this happen?”

True if one accepts that ultimately the Creator of this world, is a living person, then He does indeed have knowledge of His own creation. Can a creature know more than his creator?

So we can accept that authority is required. Further respect of authority helps us to live a good life. Since a person in authority has been assigned to this position and in a way, with the full knowledge of God Almighty.

Here comes the crux. What happens when authority is misused. Can humans take the law into their own hands, to suit their convenience. This is what happened when Jesus was crucified. Even though the ruler was aware that Jesus did no wrong, still he backed out fearing the opinion of the people and his own superiors.

He eventually asked Jesus “ Are you a king?” This was a bone of contention. People found reason to blame him for blasphemy. We are still aware of so many instances when this word is misused and innocent people condemned to death.

Jesus replies with quiet confidence that “My kingship does not come from this world. If I were a king like those of this world, my guards would have fought to save me from being  handed over to the Jews. But my kingship is not from here” (John 18: 36)

Here let us reflect on two aspects.

Why was Jesus sent into the world? Who sent Him?

“Yes, God so loved the world that he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him may not perish, but may have eternal life. God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world; but that, through him the world might be saved.” (John3:16)

To be saved ……is to be set free… live a life free of bondage….and slavery …to sin.

If one meets any average person, and speak about being set free… sure that you will get a varied response.

Today we are enslaved in so many ways , ….

Coming back to rulers; we look back and see so many have come and gone. Good and bad.

How many do you remember. Why do you remember them? Do earthly rulers last ? No matter how powerful, there comes a time when death approaches and every human being has to face this ultimate fact.

So which kingdom are we finally interested in. An everlasting one naturally. But it is not to be found here on earth.

So we can now understand the reason why Jesus says “My kingship is not of this world!”

He came only out of love to save every man and woman. He gave His life, that we may live. He rose on the third day and enveloped the whole world with His love and mercy. He poured out His Holy Spirit that we may be born anew.

He laid down his life, to still take it up! He has shown us the way to eternal life.

Have you encountered the Lord? When you do so, your life will change. He changed my life!



The Feint of a Footballer

The feint of a footballer

Who is the new boy? A puny little chap. He personifies littleness. The group of other boys his age, all admire him and like to play in his team. He is unselfish. His skill with the ball is so good. The ball  sticks to his boots like a magnet. He swerves and feints towards the goal. He cannot be stopped , even with rough tackles. His strength is to keep on playing with the ball, and develop his skills even more.

The group gets left behind, with all his sprightliness. They may be taller, but cannot match his skills. He can grab a ball from another’s feet. He has developed a lot of immunity to rough tackles and very often gets hurt so badly, that one would think he would retire.

The finals are about to commence. The latest strategy is to ensure that he is not allowed to touch the ball. So the entire opposing team, keeps a close watch on hum. The moment the ball seems to go to him , we find about 3-4 players surrounding him to snatch the ball away.

What is his response. At first he is surprised at this new manoevre. But soon he catches on.

He then ducks, and swerves and wriggles out of the scramble , to dash away with the ball. They all set up a chase , but cannot match his speed with the ball. He approaches the goal post and then unleashes a tremendous pass to his teammate, who volleys it into the goal.

The game restarts after this, but again the strategy is put into play. Again the ploy fails.

Final score reads 5-0

The end of the game shows that skill  beats stategy, and strategy works when it combines with skill. Lets hope that more good players will show up with an improved display of skill and strategy.

Note: this little story is dedicated to one of the best footballers of our time; the match and score line is fictional . I leave it to you, the reader to guess his name.

Grandma Precy



Grandma Precy

The elders called her Precy, but she was Nana to us her grandchildren. She was a very devout and a multi talented lady, adept in horse riding, tennis, besides also  being an experienced midwife. The Africans in the village greatly admired her. She was an able support to my grandfather who was a district officer in Kenya, East Africa.

She had three children , Sophia, John and Joseph. All three were sent as boarders to Pune to the good schools which accommodated boarders and gave a very good all round education. Nonetheless, my mother Sophia ,the eldest struggled with homesickness. Her consolation was her first cousin Margaret( Maggie).

Precy showed tremendous internal strength in all she did in Africa and subsequently in Goa , when she shifted base and looked after the home affairs. My grandfather completed his service in  the District Services of East Africa, with honours, and was awarded an OBE( Order of the British Empire), a citation given by the Queen of England for distinguished services rendered .

However when he returned to Goa, Precy changed, to become much quieter and subdued. Gone was that spirit of boldness. She displayed a prayerful demeanor, and looked after affairs of the home.

She showed a sharp eye to watch over her grandchildren who visited Goa on holidays. She did her best to give us a good holiday besides carefully watching over our recreational activities. Thus she undertook the role of guardian very seriously, specially when it came to the local girls.  I remember a ball falling into the next compound, and entering the compound to fetch it; she   called out frantically to return immediately. Surely this was a gesture to ensure that no infatuations develop into serious relationships.

I have vivid memories of my grandmother preparing the elaborate Goan sweets. Each sweet was worth its weight in gold, simply because the method was so tedious.

Another memory was of her rewarding the coconut plucker with a good sundowner As she poured him a drink, he would make a fuss, saying that was’ enough’ , but give the glass a slight jerk, to get even more of the drink in the glass;  Precy pretended as if she did not know the joke.

Still my grandmother was very brave,. She spent her days alone after the demise of my grandfather. However she rather stayed alone, than be with us in Bombay. She disliked the city and enjoyed being in her own home in the village environment of Goa at Guirim.

Eventually she had a fall, or what one would call the fracture before the fall. She was  flown into Mumbai, as the city was later called, and had a surgery for hip replacement after which she never regained her independence .

She spent her last days at Vasai in a home for the aged , under the care of nuns.  She had begun to lose her memory. One fine day , she breathed her last. The surprise , on that day; her son John was travelling to Vapi, on work, when the train stopped suddenly at Vasai; this was the exact time that Precy passed away.  We will remember her for all the love and care she showered on us. May her soul rest in peace.


Flight of Fantasy

Flight of Fantasy

He flies , with a few
swings of his wings,
This beautiful butterfly;
Then glides effortlessly
from here to there;
But from where ?
To whither?

A life of beauty and life giving,
flowers profuse,
with a light touch;
And oh such beauty to behold.
Having nothing but yet everything;
And still be content,
To rejoice in the moment

Oh that I could fly
into that world of beauty ,
and savour every moment,
even though brief.
Tomorrow a mist,
Yesterday a memory .
Only one day to behold
‘With gratitude to the Master.’

A ‘Cuppa Tea’

A ‘Cuppa Tea’cup of tea

Sharma and Prakash were soon approaching their destination at Bandra station. Sharma tall and grey, ready for a little relaxation looked at askance….”Are you ready for a cup of tea?” He asks the shorter and more serious man.
” Sure, well, which tea are you interested in. I like masala chai” says an overworked and tense Prakash.. Then Sharma with a wisp of hair just drooping over his thoughtful forehead, looking surprised, replied, ”  Not only masala chai, but green tea, black tea, coffee…you name it and you get it.”
The question now is : what has this meeting got to do with tea or coffee.
Is it an offer to relax and chat or is there something more.
Will Prakash drop his tense manner or will it continue over the tea chat.
The answers spills out when Sharma shares his story. In a,slow walk to the tea centre, his story gradually unfolds. He is in the last stage of cancer. He has prepared for his final journey. He only wants to spend his last days on things that matter.
Friends are forever. So why wait for the final departure. Today matters. Treasure every moment.
Do the best that one can! Reach out and touch people’s lives.
As the scout’s slogan goes :
Be Ready!
To face the Master… and hear him” say:
“Welcome good and faithful servant,
Enter into the joy of your Master”