Is God partial to men??

Lately, I have been asking and contemplating over this question an umpteen number of times. Why am askin this question-well, simply 'cos I'm sick and tired of men doing whatever they want and walking away scot free.
I personally know of men who have been cheating on their wives or partners. The women are torn apart, hurt beyond repair and confused as to what to do with the relationship. But the men,on the other hand, don't give a damn and are living life exactly like how they want. Their consciences are hardened and they don't have any remorse towards their acts of infidelity. Instead they have the audacity to actually blame the woman for not satisfying their 'needs'. What do you expect the woman to be?? Show me a man who can sacrifice for his partner as much as his girl/woman can. There would not be such a man simply 'cos all men are born selfish and egoistic by nature.
I fully agree with Scriptures which instructs wives to be submissive to their husbands. But I wish guys would read the verses prior to the one about 'submission' in Ephesians and realise they have an equally important task at keeping a relationship strong.
When men cheat and walk away with no remorse, I always wonder, "GOD, HELLLOOO?? Didn't You just see that??Did You see him do that ??Are you gonna do something about it?God, why aren't You pricking his conscience?Why can't You make him realise he's hurting the poor woman who's loving him blindly and completely oblivious to his activities?Why God,why are You not doing something about it?Will You speak to his heart and convict him of his errors?"

My question still remains unanswered- Is God partial to men??

A small dream come true...

Everyone has undoubtedly a tiny dream or wish that still needs to be materialised. For a person who is not a pilot, he may still dream to sit in the pilot's seat n taxi an aeroplane down the runway. For a person who has never acted before, he may wish to one day be in the limelight. Evidently,such small tiny dreams do not escape God's loving eyes and He eventually bestows these imaginings to every mortal at some point in his/her life.For me, I'd always dreamt to be in a worship team and lead. God has lovingly allowed me the first part of my dream and I was the backup singer for Ashraya's worship team. The latter part of my desire was yet to materialise.

God decided to give me that chance on Friday,14th Sept.2007 where I was to lead a bunch of children aged from 10-17 yrs,in worship. My friend,who was organising the whole camp, asked me,a few days back, if I could lead the worship team. I blindly said yes! I was jittery and nervous on Friday morning when I woke up as I realised how tough it can be to lead a congregation however small or big it is. I have always looked up to many a worship leader with awe and inspiration,admiring the way they could lead the crowd into worshipping the Lord.

I prayed with all my heart that God lead me to say the right words at the right time. I simply love the way my Big Daddy speaks to me. He spoke to me through Jeremiah 1:4-10. Whatever the Lord spoke Jeremiah thousands of years ago, had perfect connection to what my prayer was that morning. The verses gave me such strength that I knew God would help me. The enemy (a stupid fool) tried deviating me in many ways ranging from a slight fever to a conked out watch to a small fight with a loved one. His last attempt at stopping me was through a Panadol tablet that almost choked me. Well,sad for him, nothing stopped me!

The camp went well. Needless to say, the kids were from a traditional church,yet God moved their hearts to respond to the worship songs,much to the disapproval of the orthodox teachers. The children responded well, but the hesitation was evident. Nevertheless, the need to worship and love God is very evident and we volunteers grabbed that opportunity. The kids enjoyed the games and other activites,and the sweltering heat did not melt out their excitement.

Looking back, I might not have achieved much.In fact, I might have achieved nothing considering my lack of qualification in leading a worship team where music chords are just a bunch of alphabets to me.But I thoroughly enjoyed the chance God bestowed upon me and I sincerely hope He will be gracious to give me another opportunity to serve Him through music! All glory to my God!!

Girl power!!!

Strolling down the memory lane of my Life prompted me to jot down these few words. For some inexplicable reason, I want to relive the golden chapters onf my life- My college days.

The first 16 years of my life saw me sharing books, playing games and competing for marks with both guys and girls. So, stepping into a world of ONLY girls had me thinking if I'd ever have fun. But my apprehensions belied the reality I encountered in my three years spent in Women's Christian College, Chennai. My school mates thought I was living a drab life without boys, as they were having a pretty decent time in their co-ed colleges. But little did they know about the crazy fun I had with my girls. Girls on their own, can go wild and we had a fantabulous time.



The 3 years I spent in WCC taught me so many things. I have learnt to be independent and think on my own two feet. When guys are involved in any thing, girls tend to depend on them to do every single thing, from answering the professor to organising any cultural event. But, in WCC, we girls learnt to do anything and everything from scratch. Give us raw materials, and we mastered the art of producing full blown culturals, Food fairs, College plays and the list can go on.



We girls, had our own fun. We enjoyed our hostel days of pulling each other's leg, calling out to our friends to come for lunch or dinner, bunk classes in the name of 'going to the loo' and then sneak into our dorms for a quick nap, dressing up for any festival or event or even a weekend day out, running into hostel just seconds away from curfew time, groaning and moaning over 'barely' edible hostel food, having a once-in-a-while night out, looking forward to Special dinners, pleading with the Co-ordinator and Warden for permission to attend the next-door-boys'-college culturals or some concert held, stealing each other's toiletries in the common bathrooms, heaving heavy buckets of water when there were water shortages, planning every weekend, swatting mosquitoes, and last but not the least, having a wonderful fellowship in our college chapel...basically,having fun!

I would do anything to turn back time and relive all these happy-go-lucky days. I'm thankful to God that He blessed with a really good college and wonderful friends that these memories will always remain as fresh and beautiful as ever.

My Life's New chapter

12th June 2007 opened another new chapter in my life- My first job. Where? In India's largest private bank, ICICI Bank (Hum Hain Na)!! After an enjoyable period of 37 days in Amchi Mumbai which primarily comprised of me lazing around in the mediocre hotel rooms and staff quarters offered, going on sightseeing trips with college mates, getting squashed in the ladies compartment of the local trains (strong evidence in the form of a previous blog), shopping till I dropped in Linking Road and Hill Road and at but last not the least, waiting for my visa to Bahrain, I found myself in a totally new world!

With all the advices and articles of 'how work life's gonna be' from my close friends, seniors and of course, my family, I reported for work on 22nd July 2007. I guess my mental preparation was not sufficient enough as I did not realise what I really gotten myself into. If you ask me what my profile is, it sounds really hep, atleast to me! But one thing's for sure, like they say, "In your first year of work, get yours hands dirty", well, my fingers are guaranteed to get greasy and grimy, my back's gonna for a toss and my legs are gonna give way to the floor.

I would not say my job is all peaches and cream. The presure is killing and targets are, I feel, are beyond my reach. Im trying to figure out my selling skills, and still wonder how the others do it. I have noted it all down: their tone, their style of putting the product concept across, their body language; yet, it just does not happen with me! Why oh why!

I'm in my second month now, and all I think of before going to sleep is "DEALS, I WANT DEALS". My worst fear is now coming alive - I always vowed not to be a worrywart and let the tensions of work destroy me. Unfortunately, that is exactly what is happening now. I look around and find my friends enjoying their careers. I do not feel the same and I don't want to lie in this regard. Its funny to note that the only thing I now thoroughly enjoy is SLEEP. Gone are those days when I longed to frolic around. My bed, my pillow and my blankie beckons me at every point in the day an they turn out to be my best companions.

I don't know how long this phase will last, but I do hope this storm will pass soon and that I sail with confidence across my Life's everchanging tides.

Infamously Famous!!!

What an easy streak of being famous by doing simply nothing, but just by being myself??? heehee...It was all very funny,it still is.

A bunch of us went to watch the new release with India's fav hearthrob, SRK and his new assignment of training 16 girls from every end of our Bharat Mahan to play for the Hockey World Cup. Like all Bollywood sizzlers, the team eventually won, but the way they won is worth the watch.

But that's not what I'm getting at. Apparently, there is a girl in the movie who pretty much comes close to being my clone (of course, I feel I look better than her!!). She first enters the silver screen to register herself for the team. The moment I saw her, I was like,"uh oh, is that me???nah...". Much to my embarassment, my friends had a gala time screaming out my name and pointing to the wide screen. Throughout the movie, my name would be called out whenver the girl came up. I felt half ridiculous and half funny! I had to endure my friends' jokes for the rest of the movie.

Now my mother expresses her deepest desire to watch the movie only to see her daugter's clone. I even have clients telling me that I might have been separated at birth or if I really did act the movie. How do I respond?? As usual, laugh out loud and continue laughing. But I would be lying if I said that I do not appreciate this new found, short lived popularity. It's fun!

Surrender

This song by Barlow Girl reflects exactly the conversation I am currently having with Big Daddy.The words are in line with how my prayers are right now:

"Surrender"

My hands hold safely to my dreams
Clutching tightly not one has fallen
So many years I've shaped each one
Reflecting my heart showing who I am
Now you're asking me to show
What I'm holding oh so tightly
Can't open my hands can't let go
Does it matter?
Should I show you?
Can't you let me go?

Surrender, surrender you whisper gently
You say I will be free
I know but can't you see?
My dreams are me.
My dreams are me

You say you have a plan for me
And that you want the best for my life
Told me the world had yet to see
What you can do with one
That's committed to Your calling
I know of course what I should do
That I can't hold these dreams forever
If I give them now to You
Will You take them away forever?Or can I dream again?

Bollywood climax

I never really approve nor do I ever consider a suicide attempt to be a noble action. It is nothing but a cowardly act and a sin committed. The wrist slitting, or a bungee jump off a cliff (ropeless,like duh!) or the usual Lipton (a colloquial version of hanging down) may be various forms of pulling your own switch. Am I talking about suicide attempts and its pros and cons?Well, in a way. If you are considering to murder yourself, the best way I suggest is watch a hindi movie. Don't watch ones like Black; they will make you change your mind to die..lol.

I recently made the mistake of 'suiciding' twice. I watched Jhoom Barabar Jhoom and killed myself. The plot was quite lethal enough to knock me out unconscious.But it was a near 'suicide' attempt and I recovered with good medication from rugged, raunchy looking Dr. John McClane in the 'Die Hard 4.0' hospital (Apart from Laughter, the best medicine is a good looking doctor-sneak preview to my next blog).
Feeling all healthy,wealthy but not wise, I again found myself in the death throes of 'Awarapan'. The first dialogue did the trick and I was suffocating already. The next look on the hero's pathetic face had me gagging. The 'dancing-around-the-buildings' (trees were for the bygone days of Rajesh Khanna and Hema Malini) songs interspersed in the movie brought momentary relief.The plot of the story had me gasping for air and I knew I was dying.The finale of the film found me heaving my last breath. I considered escaping during the intermission, but the thought of spending a bomb had me stuck to my seat.

A Hindi movie has all the lethal ingredients to kill any mortal human. A crappy storyline where both the hero and heroine are perpetually confused. The only genius would be the villain. Songs, and item numbers are mandatory in these motion pictures, especially if they desire to rock the box offices. How the directors make money, I'll never know. How people rave about these big screen shows is beyond my mind's capacity. Nevertheless, Bollywood still survives and lives strong.

Hair cut dilemma

I am proud to proclaim my newly conceived theory- “Beware, beauticians hate curly hair, they will chop it all off”.

Let me elaborate:

My new job requires me to look my very best. I need to look mature, posh, sophisticated and well dressed when in reality I’m a complete nutcrack, wacky and crazy. Anyway, I can manage to fake maturity. But to look posh and sophisticated is a tad difficult when you have frizzy, restless hair. My hair hardly stays quiet and even after combing and brushing my unruly locks; it gets back to being crazy.

You now might throw me the idea of permanently straightening my hair. The idea is active on my cards but I keep pushing it aside only because it is a wallet rip-off activity. Hair bonding is like threading your eyebrows. Once you start, you cannot afford to stop. The same goes for the hair. Just as much as you cannot walk around with eyebrows growing like jungle grass, neither can you imagine strutting around with a head looking like a used mop.

So taking all these reasons into consideration, I decided to go in for a haircut. Now if you take my case and put in a haircut, it’s a scary proposition. Neither do I have thick locks to chop off nor do I have choices of hairstyles to go for. A fringe is out of the question, thanks to my forehead. Am I complaining? Not really. I’m quite proud of it all. But still, I want to look different.

So here I am in a beauty parlor in Mumbai. You wont believe me, but its Karishma Kapoor sitting across me getting her nails and hair done. Ok, maybe it’s a little hard to recognize her sans makeup, but I’m so sure its her. I try hard not to stare, so I throw casual ‘long’ stares. Yup, it’s her all right. But what is she doing here in a normal middle class parlor?? Who cares, I just saw Karishma Kapoor!!! Tra la la la…!!

Sorry for that small diversion. Back to my hair. Where was I? Ahh yes. So here I am, waiting for my turn. The lady who would eventually make me or break me, enter. I carefully explain, in English, that I wanted a different look but I wanted my hair length maintained. She replies back in Hindi. Uh oh…trouble!! Language barrier can create problems and I knew I was doomed. Nevertheless, I repeated my request (in English!!) and she confirmed saying she’d do what I wanted.

With a small prayer under my breath, she began. She showed me the length of how much she’d cut and I gave the green signal. Snip snip snip went the scissors. My curls and I bid adieu to each other. I had to remove my glasses for obvious reasons. As such, I could not observe the proceedings. I waited, with abated breath, trying to make something out of the blurred vision of my hair in the mirror in front of me. Snip snip it went. Soon it was the blowdryer unfrizzying out my locks. I love getting my hair blowdried. It keeps my hair looking neat. The lady put her finishing touches to my last strand of hair. I quickly grab my glasses and put it on with all anticipation and eagerness. I look at the mirror and “AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHH…”

The scissor-wielding lady chopped most of my hair and left just one strand of hair the length it was in the beginning. All in the name of a ‘Step Cut’ and wanting to satisfy the customer’s wants. Now my hair hardly stays put. I can’t tie a ponytail due to the simple fact that there is not much hair for a ponytail, neither can I leave it ‘down’ because there is nothing to let down and if I do, it resembles Einstein’s rocking hair-do.

There go my attempts at looking posh and sophisticated. With how I look now, I doubt getting married soon. My next step might be to get a complete makeover. Gulp…another risky mind numbing proposition!!

The Ladies Coupe

A mountain trek, an afternoon on a scintillating Seychelles beach, a lazy boat ride down Kerala’s backwaters, a mind exhilarating bungee jump- these are different experiences one need to live out, at least once in their years on earth. I too agree. I mean, one day I would love to muster all my courage and go bungee jumping. But the one thing a person definitely needs to go through is to travel by the ladies compartment in the Mumbai train.

The word ‘lady’ conjures up different adjectives like gentle, beautiful, tender, honest, kind and the list can go on. Unfortunately such adjectives are flung out of the window when you encounter with the Mumbai train ladies. They are hooligans, cut throat competitors for a train seat, highly fluent in Marathi insults and its other regional dialects, and (unfortunately for people like me) blessed with amazonic strength.

The following points will help throw more light to what I’m trying to convey:

1. The Mumbai ladies’ coupe is the best place to lose weight. Forget about all those subscriptions to VLCC, Fitness One, or Talwalkers. Just step into the ultra modern ladies’ compartment and you get squashed to the figure 5 you have always dreamed of. All your flabs disappear as you try (!) to edge your way in. You achieve the firm arms by holding onto the compartment bars for dear life and your legs and feet, well, bad news- you might not find them in the stampede. Lucky if you do.
2. Are you running late in the morning and you need to get your shirt/kurta ironed AND you need to catch the train??? Not to worry. Don’t bother about the creased unironed clothes. Just run for the train and get into the specially reserved space for ladies. Within few minutes of pushing and mashing and compressing, you will emerge onto your destination platform, all neatly ironed out and perfect.
3. A pleasure note for all the lesbians out there- girls, its all boobs and butts here in the ladies coupe!!! My heartfelt condolences for the males as they do not, or rather, probably will not get to enjoy such an event.
4. If a lady does not get to jump out onto her desired station, the chances of her not letting the other commuters to get onto their stations are highly probable. She will most likely bless you with some marathi abuses, you would be so overwhelmed enough to miss your own station.
5. Mumbai is a huge city so you will have to keep yourself entertained. Many a lady can be seen equipped with headfones stuck in their ears. If you don’t own a portable radio or I-pod, not to worry. There are many shoulders to fall sleep on. A sure shot solution to your most wanted power naps.
6. The best way to get out of the train is to simply SCREAM! The way that these ladies shriek is almost akin to how the people screamed in the sinking Titanic (as per the movie).
7. A word of caution to people who are as blind as me- please wear your contact lenses. You never know when your spectacles will be pushed off your face. Don’t even imagine bending down to search for them. You are close to committing suicide in the midst of all those stomping feet and stilleto heels.

This is just a nutshell of what I have really gone through. Watch out for my up coming bestseller- ‘The Adventures of a Fraud Mallu in Mumbai’.

Blog update

I never realized I would have readers to my blog and needless to say, I am encouraged to write more. Well, it’s pretty obvious with the time gap that I was not able to blog, primarily due to many reasons, the main one being my training for my new job. As I type this down in my quarters in Mumbai, I can say that I am recovering from my brief stint in depression (the previous blogs are evidence to this fact!!). With all confidence, I can proudly proclaim that Wacko Crazy Bless is back with a bang…She’s still hurting all right, but the pain has died down and its only the scabs that she’s scratching at. My mom says that’s the sign of healing. You can’t really refute moms’ opinions! So here goes… a cornucopia of madness!

Shock

She wants to cry
but tears refuse to fall
She wants to scream
but her throat stays numb
She wants to run away
but her legs are riveted to one spot
She wants to reach out
but her hands remain by her side

Nothing happens
She only stands
Stiff
Numb
Horrified
Hurt
Shocked

He leaves
Not a glance behind his shoulder
He doesnt see the lone tear
making its path down her cheek
He doesnt hear her heartbeat
pounding loud enough to crack glass
He walks away
on his own path
his own road
which was once theirs

Nothing happens
She only stands
Stiff
Numb
Horrified
Hurt
Shocked

It burns..

Love..its sweet when u first taste it.. Johnny Cash aptly put in..falling in love is like jumping into a ring of fire. I jumped alrite. It is warm and comforting. But things went wrong. And when they do, you get thrown out of the furnace and I was pretty much thrown out from it and man, am I burnt quite a bit.

It hurts, bloody hurts...im still hurting from all d burn wounds...i dunno wen n who will tend to these wounds with some cooling balms of true love...True love??well, that's going to be another topic to talk abt..

Johnny Cash lyrics : Song of Fire

And it makes a fiery ring
Bound by wild desire
I fell in to a ring of fire...

I fell in to a burning ring of fire
I went down,down,down
And the flames went higher.
And it burns,burns,burns
The ring of fire
The ring of fire.

The taste of love is sweet
When hearts like our's meet
I fell for you like a child
Oh, but the fire went wild..

I fell in to a burning ring of fire.....etc

Eternal love

Often I have heard people say, "How good God is! We prayed that it would not rain for our church picnic, and look at the lovely weather!'" Yes, God is good when He sends good weather. But God was also good when He allowed my sister, Betsie, to starve to death before my eyes in a German concentration camp. I remember one occasion when I was very discouraged there. Everything around us was dark, and there was darkness in my heart. I remember telling Betsie that I thought God had forgotten us. "No, Corrie," said Betsie, "He has not forgotten us. Remember His Word: 'For as the heavens are high above the earth, so great is His steadfast love toward those who fear Him.'" Corrie concludes, "There is an ocean of God's love available--there is plenty for everyone. May God grant you never to doubt that victorious love--whatever the circumstances." - Corrie Ten Boom.

There is a god who lives (part 2)

Now that we got our belongings, what happens next?? Aunty called out asking if any windows could be opened. How? The left hand side windows were below our feet and the windows on the right side were over our heads and jammed shut. I guess its by pure instinct that we started climbing over the fallen berths. Clinging onto my luggage and holding onto the bed sheet to keep me from suffocating, I slowly tried to crawl my way out. It was difficult maintaining my balance, considering the fact that both my hands were occupied. Seeing this, aunty hurriedly instructed me to throw away the bed sheet. I thought “if I do that, how am I gonna breathe through this smoke and dust? God if u really want me out of this alive, help me breathe.”

What seemed an eternity of crawling and climbing over seats, feeling fans in iron wrought encasings and groping around in the dim light, we were guided by this deep, baritoned voice that was full of confidence. All I remember was a bright torch light and this deep voice that kept encouraging the passengers “its ok, u all are all right, just be calm and climb out”. I’ll never know, to this day, who that man was.

I next realize a hole a few metres away from where I was. I could see lights flashing in. For a minute I thought it was some TV station that got to the accident scene and the humour in me quipped up, “look good,Bless…give a nice grimace…you might be on TV.” Well, so much for my silly fanstasy in the midst of the commotion. The lights came from the torches of the rescue teams and police. I was about to crawl out of this hole torn into the vestibule when a man stopped me. He had a huge plank in his hand and was trying to lift it up. He wanted to create a makeshift bridge for people to slide across to the hole and get outside. I was delirious and said something about my luggage. The man instructed me to throw it out and that someone would keep it safe. So I hurled my box out blindly. On my knees, I bent down to take the other side of the plank and lifted it. What was written on the plank shocked me. It bore the words “BATHROOM”. Yes, it turned out to be the door and the impact of the train tore it off its hinges. With the plank up as a makeshift bridge, and a small graze on m little finger, I slid across to the opening in the vestibule and breathed in fresh air. My luggage was handed back to me and I waited for shobana aunty to get out safe. Its only when we got out that we realized what happened. 5 of the train’s compartments had derailed, and the compartment that I was in, toppled. The pantry had caught fire which explains all the smoke. People were calling out to each other and there were tears of happiness to see each other safe. But my friends were in other compartments and they still did not know if aunty n I were alive. I was not reachable, as I’d lost my phone.

Aunty and I waited for sometime when suddenly a man called out our names. We hollered back and he said in tamil that there was a family looking for us. We knew it was Ajai and his family. He took us to the other side of the train. We couldn’t find them at all. We asked the man to look for them again. I borrowed a phone from a stranger. Luckily aunty had her phone book in her bag. I called up Jessy aunty, Ajai’s mom. Hearing my voice over the phone, she went hysterical and she could not speak. I talked to Riba, one of Ajai’s cousins and she told us how we could get to where they were waiting.

Carrying both mine and aunty’s luggages (she wasn’t feeling well) and balancing myself on the huge stones that line the train tracks, we inched our way forward. We met up with Ajai’s family. Hugs, tears and smiles of joy were exchanged. That was when I heard Ajai’s side of the story. He apparently got out of the train as soon as it stopped. When he saw my compartment toppled onto its side and smoke billowing everywhere, all he could picture was my burnt charred body. He ran back to his family in the other compartment, hysterical and delirious in shock. He and his family moved to a safer spot outside the train. Ajai went back to the accident area. Apparently there were some jawans and he enquired about aunty and me. The jawan instructed groups of people to call out my name, each group returning with the answer, “there is no such person here”. Almost losing heart, Ajai suddenly got a call from his cousin that I was indeed alive.

Thinking we’d never travel by train again, we found ourselves hopping from two trains to get back to Chennai. On our way back, we had to pass by the accident site again. By then it was daylight and we could see the entire thing. The train stopped for surviving passengers and I took it as an opportunity to take pictures from my camera.

We reached Chennai at 12.30pm, 6 hours delayed from our original arrival time. The impact of the accident hit me only when I saw the accident on the local TV news. That was when I broke down and realized that THERE IS A GOD WHO LIVES AND LOVES.!!

There is a God who lives (part 1)

I would not call my life as a bed of roses, but it has been a life of comfort and happiness. I have had a normal childhood and I am blessed with loving parents and 2 amazing siblings. I’m not complaining, but I’ve always wanted a jaw-dropping, awe-striking story to tell. At least, such an event would create the ‘adventure’ part of my otherwise typically normal life story.

It all happened on 28 January 2007. We were traveling back to Chennai after attending one of my closest friends, Nisha’s wedding in Coimbatore. We were on the Cheran express that night. Shobana aunty n I were in S7, while Ajai and his family were in S6. Two of Nisha’s friends were in the same compartment as I was in too. In normal circumstances, trains do travel at high speeds during the nights and this train was no exception (for the time being). By around 3am, I woke up to loud sounds and extremely strong tremors. Before going to sleep, I’d hung my specs on the collar of my t-shirt. Waking up to these horrible sounds, I involuntarily yet quickly reached for my specs. I could make out bright red streaks of lights flashing past us. The train was moving at such a high speed, yet it felt like I was in the middle of an earthquake. People started waking up and calling out to God in their native tongues. I was scared and all I could utter was ‘oh God,oh God…’.

Within minutes, the compartment started tilting onto its left. In my mind’s eye, I thought we were falling off a bridge. Being a person who cannot stand pain in the slightest form, I prayed, “Lord, if this is my end, please finish it soon cos I want it quick and painless!!”
I was in the middle berth and Shobana aunty was in the lower one. As the compartment titled, I clung onto the berth straps and held on for dear life. Like they say, as you near death, your life’s memories flash past your eyes. To me it was a blurred worn out film roll. My mind conjured up only 5 names- my parents, my brother, my sister and Ajai. I really thought this was my end and this was how I would die – in a train crash.

Belying my thoughts, the boogie fell onto its left side and everything came to a standstill. The lights were cut off and there was smoke and dust everywhere. Men, women and children were crying out for help. I crawled down from my berth and felt jagged rocks and stones under my sock-covered feet. I could make out faint lights flashing around the place and I realized people were using their cell phones to find their way out. I searched for mine in my pocket where I’d kept before sleeping. It wasn’t there. I lost my cell phone. I called out to Shobana aunty. Groping around in the dark, we found each other. It was chaos all around. Yet in the midst of it all, aunty n I prayed and thanked God for this experience and for saving our lives.
We sat on the now upside down turned berths. The dust and smoke was increasing and being a slightly asthmatic person, I found it extremely hard to breathe. I held my bed sheet I had with me to my nose and breathed as much as possible. But my chest was constricting by the minute. Aunty asked for someone to show her a little of the cell phone from a stranger and she found her suitcase. I wondered that if she could do it, why couldn’t I. So I groped around and lo, behold, I felt the handle of my trolley bag. Aunty repeated the same stunt and found her slippers, the exact pair. I followed suit and by God’s grace, found my Reebok floaters.

starter

this is my first go at creating a blog. like the title suggests, the blogs will be a minute preview of the 'cornucopia of my mind's ramblings'. some might catch an interest and some mundane. I dont care. it's just another extension of me. enjoy