What gives

Pondicherry it is.I reach at six o'clock to a guest house owned by a French couple at six in the evening and am reassured to be greeted by a family with a little daughter. I have a splitting headache so I decide I want to eat a quick bite before I hit the sack. Little down the street I walk into a tibetain shop and gulp down a plate of badly made momos. The girl serves me in a traditionally sikkimese way,with that sign of respect which touches a chord. I do manage a quick walk to the beach after the lady behind the counter assures me that Pondi is safe.I understand why when I run into police cars,police bikes and personals every ten steps.The beach looks ferocious,and beautiful at night but is overcrowded to say the least.I see a few works of different handwork potraits of Rajnikant,MGR,and I don't know who.One of them is even made of paper roses. I walk briskly back to the hotel and hit  the sack. Next morning I get up early and walk to the ashram.The streets around the...

Strange to be back in the south after quite a long gap.My friend asks me ,'are you back from Dehradun?'We were together in Tamil Nadu more than a decade ago.Slightly confused I say ,'back to where?' I was born in Mangan,educated in Gangtok,graduated in Bengal,post-graduated in Tamil Nadu,worked in Satbarwa,Herbertpur,England,Herbertpur and now am ready for the next bout of adventure . Even as I reach Chennai I meet Sheba after a little over a year,her parents after a decade.Uncle says I have grown fatter. I hear Dr Manoj's familiar voice over the phone.....into CMC there is Dolly,Deepak,Beulah ,Alex,Emmanuel,Jayanti,Susheel,Shalom,Ashita,Deepak,Dr Hansdak,Judy,..then there are the Satbarwa folks...Sishir,Suman....and then more Oddanchattram...Abraham.,Meghala....and then even as Abraham dials the phone and hands the set to me I am greeted by intermittant stunned silence and giggle on the other side of the phone....seriously I,think Anand has forgotten ...

It's been a little over two months since I last scribbled a post. In the comfort of having the parent's around one's mind stops functioning and you give in to the pampering . However ,over the last few months,I have watched it all through close quarters and the technical eye ,the saga of Tehelka....and now Shashi Tharoor being beaten to the pulp ,two human institutions I had looked up to .........for their transient glimpses of brilliance.I don't denounce them ,I understand them perfectly well, as I do myself and every human being on earth,fragile ,frial, and sinful. I hold on to what is good and accept the failings. In the meantime I take great joy in small surprises that the Lord blesses us with. I had the pleasure of having dinner with a young kid yesterday. She could not be more than twenty three. I called her over with a certain sense of responsibility. The thought crossed my mind but I wasn't sure I would meet her before she left the campus. I would ...

I opened up my mail during lunch time to see a letter from the editor inviting us to write some article for 'Voice' and the topic was 'Incarnational presence' . My immediate thought was, ' there will be enough people contributing so I will let this pass'. I walked back to the OPD after lunch. From a distance I saw Jessica cycling , I thought she had a small bundle at the back. Beautiful Jessica smiled from the heart and waved at me even as she said , 'Welcome back to the campus, good to have you back. ' I waved at her and thanked her as she cycled past. What I saw then will remain with me for a long time, I know. It was 'little Adam' on her back on the cycle with her . He had a cap on and with the two tiny hands, that miracle child was holding onto his mother's back 'firmly' even as he enjoyed the speed of the bicycle. I stared long and hard at those tiny hands ...at those tiny grip. ...

(An assignment from the fiction writing course). On 22nd December 1938 ,at seven thirty in the evening, Phugu Dorjee, having served his master a frugal supper of fresh potato with vegetables ,went out for a quick stroll to the market place. He was sitting on the hearth of one of the stalls. At seven forty five ,a sentry on a horseback, came trotting into town beating a drum. ..'citizens,please listen........ his majesty, the chogyal(King) of Sikkim,has given an urgent call to all the citizens of Lachung to vacate town as soon as possible.A big glacier is expected to sweep through town any moment....hear,.hear!.'. Phugu Dorjee rushed back to the mission house where he saw his master's study door pull closed. It was time for Pilkenin Sahab's evening devotion.He prefered not to be disturbed. The matter was urgent so Phugu Dorjee knocked at the door,opened it judiciously and said, ' Sahab, a big glacier is expected to sweep through town any moment.E...

Muqarram would have been twenty three years old.He worked as a barber in notorius Muzzafarnagar.He was brought in by his parents barely breathing ,he had a tachycardia of around 170 beats per minute.He was being treated as tuberculosis by the local quacks. He had chronic rheumatic valvular heart disease with florid Mitral regurgitation,Aortic regurgutation,Mitral stenosis and presented with congestive cardiac failure and infective endocardites. Thus began our tyrst with this young man. Everyday we would hopefully go to his bed-side to see some kind of progress. Blood cultures were hard to come by and he had to travel a distance of more than 60 kms to get the echocardiography.He was hardly stable to make that journey. Everyday during the rounds I would chat a little bit with his parents.Mother was an unusually strong serene person who never got on our way.The father did all he was asked to without any question. Muqarram would give us a mute ,blank look everyday i...

I am in the church.The preacher is a muslim convert.He is preaching from Isaiah.He is reiterating the Word in full gusto.I listen,I pray ,I pray hard-Oh Lord please inspire me today. The choir sings beautifully.I pray to the Lord of my heart please Lord ,inspire me. There is a call for the Lord's supper. The lady's line touches the door but the men's line has just four people in it. Taking a cue from one of the old nurses I change into the men's line. I walk up to the Lord's supper and give a reverant glance at the supper before me. I see crumbs of ordinary chapatti ,hastily torn by the preacher into small pieces. It deeply touches my heart. How I forget time and again ,my master. You have called us to eat the ordinary bread in reverence,in the memory of you. When you are in it ,the ordinary becomes sacred.