I’ve been on this planet for almost six decades now, and I’ve been fortunate to see a fair portion of it. I’ve been able to travel widely, not just in the country where I was born but elsewhere, too. My penchant for travelling started early, in childhood itself. My parents took us children on numerous trips during our school vacations. Later, the sort of work that I took up was such that for me it often seemed like a paid holiday—I got to travel widely for a job that I then j

"Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver."   (The Bible, 2 Corinthians 9:7) Of the incidents from my early childhood that I still vividly recall one relates to my maternal grandmother. This happened when I was little—around half a century or so ago—and so I'm not sure if my account is entirely error-free but maybe it went something like this: My maternal grandparents were returnin

Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” (Matthew 19:26) Some days ago, I attended a talk by a man who, many years earlier, had joined a cult-like group and had risen to become one of its important figures. He spoke eloquently and had some rather interesting things to say, but one point of his that I just couldn’t get myself to accept had to do a crucial teaching of his cult that is related to the afterlife. According

I was born into a fairly well-off family. We enjoyed a comfortable lifestyle, and my father’s salary was enough to afford numerous fulltime home-help or ‘domestic staff’. One of the finest things that I remember from my childhood days about my late mother was her compassionate treatment of our home-help, so that they were, in a sense, an integral part of our family. Within the constraints of a hierarchical employer-employee relationship, she related to them with care and genu

I was around ten years of age when my parents decided to enroll me in a boarding school that was located up in the hills, far from the city where we then lived. One reason for this might have been that this school offered a wide range of extra-curricular activities, including sculpture, carpentry, weaving, music, horse-riding and many different sports, which went along with the regular academic curriculum. My parents possibly thought that these activities would provide me a m

For him prayer was to simply repeat Fixed words daily, a mechanical feat, Not knowing it wasn't to say words mere, But to speak to God and attentively hear Whatever it was that God wanted to say, The guidance that He sought to convey. Those he knew considered prayer to be A wordy incantation, some magical key, Words to please God, flatter and charm, To earn good fortune and keep off harm. None of his folks had even once heard Of prayer other than reciting many a word. They di

Many years ago, my mother, who was then in her late 60s or early 70s, fell ill and had to be admitted to hospital. I don’t know what the issue was, but it was likely serious because she was put into a special ward in the hospital and spent quite some days there. It was painful to see my mother in a hospital bed, and I turned to God for her to recover. Now, this was a long time ago, and so, I can’t remember what exactly I told God, or if, indeed, I said anything at all to Him

She said to herself, “I’ve had enough Of ritualistic prayers and such stuff. It’s now become a really big strain, A huge burden on my tender brain!”   Just then, an idea came to her mind, Chatting with God as prayer she did find. Not once before had she heard of this, Her concept of prayer had been amiss. This is what for her prayer had been: Repeating set words to a being unseen, In a language she didn't understand, A tongue hailing from a distant land.   Finally, one day, t

All I ask is Your will be done. Other requests I have none. Your will be done from now on In my life till from here I’m gone. Grant this to You my only plea: May Your will alone in my life be.

Life’s a gift to be celebrated, Not a curse to be denigrated, Unlike what they grimly said, That, “It’s better to be dead. Life’s a burden, heavy to bear, Full of woe and onerous care. From it you must seek to flee, And from its bonds to be free. To it you must fully die, And this is the reason why: On the world God's put a curse, So, hatred for it we must nurse. This world we firmly renounce, 'Fie on it!', so we pronounce. Don’t be fooled by worldly allure, It’s a deadly dis

He claimed that God had specially sent Him into the world with the clear intent To be His spokesman for all time to come For all human beings, and not just some, And that they who believed what he said Would go to Paradise when they were dead, While those who rejected what he’d tell Would be tortured by God forever in Hell.   No evidence at all for his claims he had, His own people declared he’d gone mad For all the preposterous things that he said, Thinking him to be demon-p

This morning, when in my bed, This thought came into my head: In the world, only one will prevails, Even in the smallest of details.  If this is true, then every thought Every word, every deed wrought, On Earth, and elsewhere, too, Even all that you and I do, All actions done, of every kind, Are willed by a single mind, Which decrees things to occur, As ‘God’ to this mind one may refer. If this is so, it would mean God’s will alone has ever been. This, in turn, would suggest

You ask me the reason why With no religion I identify. To you I answer in reply: “God has no religion, so nor do I.”

Oh the maddening creedal strife With which this world is rife, Each group claims they're right, The only ones with true insight.   All I can say is that I do know That beyond all doubt it is so That You, God, are indeed there. To know more why need I care?

Words upon words, what a big heap! These books now far away I’ll keep. When with You I can directly converse, There’s little that I could do worse Than instead of You, to choose a book, And therein for You to seek to look!

Through lines of rhyming verse With You I now love to converse, Sharing with You what's on my mind, In doing this oh great joy I find!   A few such lines can say very well What a ponderous book might tell. This thing I now just love to do: Engage in poetic prattle with You!

Oh what a truly majestic sight! In carefree joy, in sheer delight, The bird soars into the empty sky And I sit in my chair and know that I One day, too, will glide up from Earth, Where I’ve been ever since taking birth. On that day, when my body shall die, Off from here on swift wings I’ll fly! When my term here has finally ceased, I’ll soar like a bird from its cage released!

I can speak with You in words plain, For between us no false veils remain, No desire have I now to search for You In ponderous books like I long used to. Those tomes I’ve now left far behind, For they heavily burdened my mind. On me so greatly they began to weigh That I had to firmly put them all away. What need have I now them to turn When Your presence I can myself discern, For, wherever I am, and at all times, too, I know I can commune directly with You!

When our earthly stay comes to an end, To this one question we might attend: How much of the time You assigned For us on Your Earth to be confined Did we choose to commune with You Compared to all else that we did do? A good measure, this might be said, Of how our life on Earth we had led.

Life here is short, and soon we’ll go, This sure fact we must all well know. From here we’ll head to the Judgment Seat, Where the Lord God we’ll have to meet, Getting from Him the decree He’ll give On how on His Earth we each did live. Let us be of this at all times aware, So that of our life we’ll take good care.