TRUST or INNOCENCE

This guy was on a long flight home after a conference. The first warning of the approaching problems came when the sign on the airplane flashed on: "Fasten your seat belts."  Then, after a while, a calm voice said, "We shall not be serving the beverages at this time as we are expecting a little turbulence. Please be sure your seat belt is fastened."  As he looked around the aircraft, it became obvious that many of the passengers were becoming apprehensive. Later, the voice of the announcer said, "We are so sorry that we are unable to serve the meal at this time.  The turbulence is still ahead of us." And then the storm broke. The ominous cracks of thunder could be heard even above the roar of the engines. Lightening lit up the darkening skies and within moments that great plane was like a cork tossed around on a celestial ocean. One moment the airplane was lifted on terrific currents of air; the next, it dropped as if it were about to crash.  The man confessed that he shared the discomfort and fear of those around him. He said, "As I looked around the plane, I could see that nearly all the passengers were upset and alarmed. Some were praying.  The future seemed ominous and many were wondering if they would make it through the storm. And then, I suddenly saw a girl to whom the storm meant nothing. She had tucked her feet beneath her as she sat on her seat and was reading a book. Everything within her small world was calm and orderly. Sometimes she closed her eyes, then she would read again; then she would straighten her legs, but worry and fear were not in her world. When the plane was being buffeted by the terrible storm, when it lurched this way and that, as it rose and fell with frightening severity, when all the adults were scared half to death, that marvelous child was completely composed and unafraid."  The man could hardly believe his eyes. It was not surprising therefore, that when the plane finally reached its destination and all the passengers were hurrying to disembark, he lingered to speak to the girl whom he had watched for such a long time.  Having commented about the storm and behavior of the plane, he asked why she had not been afraid.  The sweet child replied, "Sir, my Dad is the pilot and he is taking me home."  Trust?  Innocence? Whatever it is, it is so very powerful!

 There are many Storms that buffet us - 

Physical, Mental, Financial, Domestic & other storms that can darken our skies and throw us in turmoil. 

Like the little girl, let us always remember: 

Our Father (God) is the Pilot. He is in control. 

He will take us home.

Food For Thought - Relationships are precious

     When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I've got something to tell you... She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.

 Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce... I raised the topic calmly.

 She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why?  I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chop sticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Dew. I didn't love her anymore. I just pitied her!

 With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company...

 She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Dew so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.

 The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn't have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Dew.

 When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.

 In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce.

 She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month's time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.

 This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day.

 She requested that every day for the month's duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door every morning. I thought she was going crazy... Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.


 I told Dew about my wife's divorce conditions... She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully...

 My wife and I hadn't had anybody contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting
room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don’t tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell her gentle fragrance. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this woman carefully for a long time... I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.

 On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me.

 On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn't tell Dew about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.

 She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, "All my dresses have grown bigger." I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.

Suddenly it hit me... she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.

 Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it's time to carry mum out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind
at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway.  Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day.

 But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school.  I held her tightly and said, I hadn't noticed that our life lacked
intimacy.

 I drove to office.... jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind.... I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I do not want the divorce anymore.

 She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn’t love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death does apart.

 Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.

 At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The sales girl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I'll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.

That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I ran upstairs, only to find my wife in the bed - dead....... I cried and cried uncontrollably and carried her for the last time from the room to the hall with tears streaming down my face and gazing at my only son, his tears rolling from his eyes, they made me cry even more.  I had lost my love, my wife and a loving and caring mother and nothing I could do now to put the clock backward... I had all the time now to look at her motionless body in detail but I knew it was going to be only for a short while until she made her last journey to the Lord..... I held my son and wept again and again thinking of all the  things I did not do for her when she was still alive....... & placed  gently the flowers in her hands with my tears trickling on them.......
 she was gone forever, all my tears would not bring her back .

 The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves. So find time to be your spouse’s friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy.
 Do have a real happy marriage!

 THE TIME IS ALWAYS RIGHT TO DO WHAT IS RIGHT

 Moral of the story is to value all the things we possess, once they are gone we have nothing but regrets!

My Tryst with Pregnancy

We received the news of my pregnancy on 27^th October 2006. My cherished dream was going to come true now. I was going to become a Mother. I was going to bring a new life into this world. Everyone shared our happiness with us. We were elated. Our minds were filled with numerous dreams, plans, thoughts, and questions about the new life growing within me. Lots of advice and suggestions were showered by our well-wishers. All the ladies in the neighborhood came visiting and lots of Do’s and Don’ts were given. Suddenly many foods became out of bounds and new dishes were included in my daily intake. My husband and I pondered over the unending list of baby names and argued over our choice of names. We picked up books on pregnancy. My husband would caress my tummy and tease me on how it would expand over the next few months. Decisions of our life started revolving around the arrival of the new member in the family.

            Sadly, our joy was short-lived. Barely 10 days after I received the news, I developed complications and had to be hospitalized immediately. I was to be kept on observation. I knew, something terrible was happening. I was losing my baby and I was helpless.

It was going to be the first long stint of my life at the hospital. We reached the hospital late in the evening. It was a hospital run by a Christian institution. It was going to be my abode for God knows how many days. As we entered the hospital gates, I saw a grand statue of Jesus Christ stretching out his arms. My moment of anxiousness seemed to fade away as I decided to entrust myself to whatever was in store for me in the days to come. I got a Patient ID Number and Registration Number for myself. The nurses went by their routine documentation and checkups. I was asked to sit in a wheel chair to be taken to the ward. I resisted and reverted that I was perfectly capable of walking and taking care of myself. I walked the corridors and climbed the stairs of the hospital and reached the white bed sheet draped BED assigned for me. The nurse ordered me to lie down as she repeated all her checkups on me. I lay on the hospital bed with many other women around me suffering the same agony as mine. I could not sleep. Scary thoughts kept creeping my mind. The pale, morbid white walls of the hospital sank my heart further. No visitors allowed, I was all alone in the ward, my near and dear ones anxiously sitting outside. I was asked to leave all my personal belongings outside. All my requests of taking my books, mobile phone, purse, or extra clothing to keep me company were turned down. I guess they wanted us to feel what isolation was. That set me thinking. In the hospital bed, there is no difference between you and your neighbor. Sickness, agony and pain don’t differentiate between the rich and the poor, beautiful and not so beautiful, educated or uneducated. All material possessions are of no relevance anymore.

There were all kinds of nurses, the young ones and the old ones, the staff nurses and the students, all draped in their white uniform. To me all looked alike. The young ones, apparently students, were the more gentle ones. They were beautiful, lively, smiling, chatting with each other, eager to talk to you and know more about you. They would comfort me with kind words while I cried. They would take out time and answer all my questions. The oldies, probably toughened with time and experience were the more stern ones. Confined to hospital walls for years, they had turned cold as ice and had forgotten to smile. They went about giving orders to the young girls and to the people around. One such nurse bossed over me too.  

I was told that I had had a spontaneous abortion and I had to undergo an operation to clean any remains of it. The clinical terminologies made me feel more sick. The removal of remnants of what was a growing life within me was made to sound like a simple medical procedure. As I was getting ready for surgery, I was asked to change into a morbid looking white gown. All my colorful garments and beautiful gold and diamond jewelry were stripped off me. The defiant attitude with which I had entered the hospital had turned into that of surrender. I went about following all the instructions without any resistance. I just wanted it to get over soon. I was not allowed to walk. With sheer embarrassment, I closed my eyes and feigned a state of unconsciousness every time I was wheeled in and out in a wheelchair or a stretcher. At the operation table, we surrender ourselves and our life to some strangers with the faith that they would heal and revive us. All the nurses and doctors worked on me with their various injections and medical apparatus. I was completely sedated and assured that I would have no recollection or sensation of all the probing hands and equipment on me.

It is said that in an unconscious state, a person almost approaches ones end and comes back. I too had my rendezvous with death. Your entire life whizzes past before your eyes and the times we spent with our loved ones starts hitting us as if it just happened yesterday.

I emerged out of the operating theater totally oblivious of my surroundings. I am told that I was calling out my mother’s and husband’s name 2 entities that hold immense importance in a woman’s life. The mother brings you into this world and the husband is the catalyst for the woman to turn into a mother and continue her task of procreation. I have a faint recollection of holding on to my mom-in-law’s hand tightly and not letting it go, as if it were a dear object I was afraid to lose. My husband’s occupation kept him away from me. His absence further created a vacuum and I couldn’t share with him, what I was going through. I was desperately waiting for him to return. His soothing words over the phone seemed so distant and faint.

I woke up the next morning to the sound of church bells and the beautiful hymns being sung by the nuns at the chapel. It was quite a contrast to the physical and mental turmoil that I had gone through the previous day. What a soothing effect it was. Soon after that, a saintly looking Nun, the Superintendent of the ward, came visiting all patients and preaching some divine message of hers to each of them. A group of nurses followed her updating her about each patient. She gave a cute smile to me, and started talking to us.  As expected, we got our dose of her GODLY preaching too. I am not a religious person and I have my own spiritual time of conversations with the GOD. I am quite averse to excess preaching but at that moment her philosophical words seemed so true and relevant.

We waited for our turn as the lady doctor started her morning rounds walking from patient to patient scrutinizing their elaborate medical charts. She gave her go ahead and I could leave the hospital premises now. I couldn’t thank her enough. I just wanted to be back home.

My stay in the hospital was not a pleasant experience but nevertheless a very profound one. Such experiences make you more humble in life. We tend to be critical and negative about the not so happy moments of our lives. However, what I saw around me made me feel more blessed and fortunate. It made me view life with a more positive note. My loss and pain looked minuscule in front of what the other women were going through.

A woman fights against all odds to bring her baby into this world in a healthy state. She endures immense hardships to bring up her children. My respect and admiration for the WOMAN has increased.

So, that was my Tryst with Pregnancy. The optimist that I am, I decide to move on with my life in the hope that there would be Better Luck Next Time.