Chp 118. Delhi Ahoy!!!

Flashback: One week ago

"So when does this new course (in Delhi) start?"
"By the beginning of next month, dad."
"Hmmmm... and you really aren't satisfied with the quality of your coaching classes here?"
"Puleeeze... I mean he knows a lot, but he hardly comes to class, and most of the time spends his teaching hours dictating from DD Basu's "Introduction to the Constitution of India" with no real explanation as such..."

So there I was booking my flight ticket to Delhi for my UPSC coaching classes last week. It was a very sudden plan. I didn't even have the time to tell anybody about it. I chose a date that would be most suitable for my friends in Delhi to pick me up from the Airport. The date was 20^th April.

20^th April happened to be a Friday, a day when all my friends would be free from the shackles of their next-day-office bondage. 20^th April also happened to be the eve of my Birthday *grin* .

With just 2-3 days available for preparation, everything was hush-hush-ed. I packed my stuff quietly and left sweet ol’ Mizoram without a trace. I didn’t even have the time to inform any of my friends about my decision. On the direct flight from Aizawl to Delhi, “father_sphinx” happened to be on the same flight! Hence with the two of us leaving Mizoram, not a single editor of the popular Mizo site misual.com is now currently residing in Mizoram. Ironic huh? .

Landed at Delhi an hour away from my sweet birth anniversary. Perfect! The journey then onwards was not so smooth. First bump on the road: There was not a single PCO booth (functioning properly) inside the arrival lounge! Hence I couldn’t contact Amol who was supposed to pick me up at the Airport. Took a gamble and wheeled my luggage outside the Airport in the hope that there might be a local-call Booth outside the Terminal. There were two. Hence came the second bump on the road (A pretty nasty bump if I may elaborate): I called up Amol who was already there at the Airport and told him of my whereabouts and made another short (less than 20secs) local call; I was charged 40 bucks by the phone booth operator! Even though I have reformed and no longer have any desire to lead the life I once led, due to force of (past) habit, I couldn’t help uttering “WTF” in my head.

This was a pure case of tube-light robbery! 40 bucks for two short local calls! At first I thought the dude was just trying to rip me off because of my facial feature. But as I stood there arguing with the owner I observed the other people (non-mongoloids, read : typical Indian facial feature) actually pay 10 bucks for a local call! Both the booth owners had only notes of 10 bucks in their hands. And then Amol appeared on the scene and when I told him about the royal swindle, he bargained with the owner (or should I say pleaded?) in hindi and finally I got to pay just 20 bucks. Still, 20 bucks for 2 short local calls?????

Then Amol told me that sometimes it’s best not to argue with such people because they could create a lot of “problems”, and with a medical bill that could rise to more than Rs.5000 and probably a court case and my birthday party in a few more minutes, it was definitely not worth getting beaten up by the local goons (who are obviously in cahoots with the cops) over a mere 20-40 bucks. I couldn’t believe it. Hardly 10 minutes in Delhi and my dignity already got raped!

And yes, the two phone booths ran by those two swindling rotten-faced scoundrels right outside the Airport terminal are both Airtel Phone Booths. Kudos, Mister Sunil Bharti Mittal.

All my life, I’ve been only in South India. I can truly call Bangalore, Hyderabad, Chennai, Coimbatore, Mumbai and Cochin as my secondary home. I love South India. Most of my closest friends right from Primary School to Master’s degree College had all been South Indians, although I did have a couple of dear North Indian friends here and there too. And although I don’t mean to stereotype, I have indeed heard a lot of “stories” about North India and North Indians, in particular Delhiites. This is ofcourse not in reference to all the good people of Delhi and addressed only to the anti-social few. Hence I was indeed prepared, both mentally and physically, to face any thefts/ dacoity/ racial abuses/ ethnic slurs. I guess I just wasn’t prepared to face a 40 bucks rip-off immediately the moment I landed.

Anyway, having learnt a good lesson, Amol took me to Jaypee Vasant Continental next to Priya Complex for my birthday (dinner) party. Met the others there… it sure felt good to see everybody again, especially her. After we sat inside “Eggspectation” the Resto-Café, the clock struck 12. Happy Birthday to me, yay.!

I did have a small glass of beer to celebrate the occasion, just so as not to make my friends feel uncomfortable. That small glass funnily made me feel a bit tipsy because I haven’t touched alcohol in more than 5 months now since my born-again experience, while I used to down a full bottle of old Monk Rum at one shot before! Now I no longer have the desire or urge to get drunk again even after that one glass of beer, Praise be the Lord.

I couldn’t help laughing at the way I am spending my birthday now and they way I used to spend them for the past 7-8 years. Those other times, my B’day parties always involved unlimited booze, inebriated caterwauling, mithun-ishtyle disco dancing, intoxicated arm wrestling, and ending the night (morning) with a deep passing out, welcoming the first day of my new year with a head throbbing hangover. Last week’s celebration was so so so so much cleaner and at the same time so much more fun. I’ve never laughed out that much taking each other’s trips in such a long long time.

The Present:

Nearly a week now in Delhi. It’s not as hot as people warned me about, although the actual heat wave is yet to come. The place where I’m staying for the time being until I find my own pad is very cool compared to many other houses I already visited. Although I haven’t actually gone out that much, I really am starting to like Delhi. Neighbors and shopkeepers nearby are a bunch of extremely nice people. My roomies here tell me that the actual racial abuses and other notorieties depend upon the location/locality, and residential areas such as this are usually a safe haven for “outsiders”.

Cool. So my blogging will continue on a part time basis when I take a small break now and then from my study grind, so please do continue visiting my blog. I took a new mobile connection yesterday, and yes, it was obviously not Airtel.

Chp 117. Impression of a Christian

Easter confessions.

Four years ago (2003), Easter fell on 20th April. I remembered that date very well because the next day was my birthday. A combine birthday party was thrown by me and “V” on the previous night (PSG Tech, Coimbatore, TN). From our college gang of friends, a majority of us were Christians; hence most of us treated that night as auspicious. But as the night got younger and wilder, we all eventually ended up drinking. Even the more devoted Christians among us like P and J who were on Lent and sipping on orange juices soon turned to beer (Our gang loved beer. It was always beer on such occasions). Sadly, in the midst of our drunken follies, we had completely forgotten the significance of such a sanctified weekend.

Funny thing was, the next day all of us turned up for Church! Most of us were still sipping on limewater to cure our hangovers, but we all felt this urge within us to go to Church. We never turned up to Church for an impression on what others would think about us: we went to this really secluded Catholic Church far away from College (which was a tamil service! and none of us understood tamil properly, me being a Mizo and the rest Mallus). Yet we all felt a strange calling from within to celebrate Easter and go to a Church, any Church… maybe it was guilt, or a mixture of guilt and jubilation, or maybe it was just pure exultation.

It would be easy for anybody who saw us the previous night in our drunken-est demeanor to call us all hypocrites for going to Church the next day. A big bunch of hypocrites. I wouldn’t blame them all for calling us that, because that is the kind of impression that most of us usually pass on to our non-Christian friends here in India, that Christians are a bunch of frauds who drink a lot and lead an Americanized life and then go to Church all holy on a Sunday. Although I admit we were foolish then and gravely sinned, I wouldn’t say we were being hypocritical because of the way we kept a low profile of our Church visit and also the fact that we would all rather sleep the whole day because of our hangover rather than put on some impression we didn’t give a hoot for then.

But like it or not, that is the kind of impression many people have about Christians here in India today, especially among the youth of today’s upper and middle class section of the society. Being quite liberal and a bit more moderate than most people of other faiths, college-going Christians of urban areas are usually expected to be “amazing guys to party with” or “somebody who’s really cool and happening” or “a guy with excellent taste in english music, absolutely rocking”. Word on the street is that being a Christian will earn you some extra brownie points when applying for a job as a DJ, VJ, RJ, MC, Hostess, Event Manager etc.

A good friend of mine argued that we should not be worried about the impression we give to others and what matters the most should be “our inside”. No doubt, what is “within us”, our genuineness, our sincere faith, our honest attitude infront of God, our modesty etc are all important. But when we follow all that, we are also automatically giving out a good impression. Hence we cannot separate the two of them.

Years ago, I actually used to take my then girlfriend along with me to Church on a Sunday. She’s a Hindu. But she enjoyed going to Church with me, to listen to the teachings and sermons. I could tell that she was genuinely impressed with my religion. For the short time that we were together, I even became a better Christian. There was one incident I will never forget. One Sunday, she suddenly refused to step inside the Church with me. When I asked her why, after much hesitation, she whispered to me that she was having her periods and hence felt that she might “pollute” the holy sanctity of the Church... As she was extremely adamant about her decision inspite of my pleas and persuasions, I finally stepped inside the Church alone while she waited for me at the adjoining CCD.

Leaving old traditions and conceptions about menstruation aside, what really impressed me that day was the fact that she, a person of different faith, would show so much respect to our Church in a situation where she felt respect need to be shown. That was the impression she had about Christianity, and had we been together longer, maybe she would have converted to our faith… who knows.

Impression is more important than what most people think. We should all be aware of the fact that people of other faiths are always watching our every move, the way we dress up for Church, the way we lead our life outside the Church, how helpful are we in our society, our politeness, sincerity, honesty and dedication when it comes to work etc. When we give out a great impression, it sometimes makes other people want to follow our footsteps too especially when we practice what we preach. Gandhiji once said "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."

One of our obligations as a Christian is to spread the Word of God. And spreading the Word of God need not be only through sermons, preachings and missionary works. When we lead a respectable decent public life deemed appropriate of a Christian among our non-Christian friends, we are all automatically spreading God’s immortal Words. In a country with less than 3% of the total population, we have a mammoth task of standing out from the rest.

The question is, my friend, will you join me in that marathon? Lead a good Christian life inside and outside the Church, and not just lead such a life only for mere impression alone? Are we ready to show the others what being a true Christian is all about? Will you help me if I stumble and fall on the way? And more important, will you let me help you if you stumble and fall? The race has started a long time ago, my friends, come, let’s join them!

Chp 116. Christianity & Culture: Wearing “puan”.

Is the practice of wearing “puan” to Church a compulsory cultural prerogative?

First of all, what is a “puan”? Puan (puan chei, puan dum etc) is a piece of full length traditional skirt worn by women to Church (and other important functions) in Mizoram.




Consolidating many of the email feedbacks I received regarding my previous post (also published at BMA Official website, youthim.com and zawlbuk.net) the question opinionated by the the majority would be “Why do women in Mizoram have to wear puan to Church? It’s not like a woman wearing jeans is less favored by God.”

As Ben and popsugar wanted a short post, my reply would be: “The women wear puan for cultural reasons. That is how every society is. Hope you enjoyed reading my article. Have a nice day. Take care.”

However, as one of my esteemed regular commenters Kima-the-other quoted in my previous post, “I think your length is fine because brevity, as attractive as it may be, often leads to over simplistic reductions”, we really need to understand the concept of culture and religion and their amalgamation first before attempting to scrutinize the legality of Church practices conforming to culture.

Unwritten rules and norms are perhaps the most controversial component of any Society. Most people want to live life as they want, not abiding by any such societal rules. They live by the doctrines of “Live and let live” and “It’s my Life”. Everybody, including me, would love to live in such a Utopian society! However, that is not how things are (sadly). Man, no matter where he lives, will have to abide by certain rules and regulations as long as there is a society around him. This has been proven throughout history.

In any situation where there is an assemblage of more than 1 person, unwritten rules and code of conducts are bound to be framed. Just yesterday, I was playing basketball at our newly constructed Chaltlang community basketball court (finally!). One only has to sit back and observe the environs to know what I’m talking about.

Group of guys gathered at the court to play. Even though there are no rules imposed by the community leaders, the youth immediately started framing their own unwritten rules: You cannot play without sneakers. You cannot play with pants. You cannot smoke inside the court. Every game consist of a game of 7 points, where the winners stay and the losing team is replaced by the next team, all on a first come basis.

Rules need to be framed for the fluidity of the whole process so that everyone can collectively reap the maximum benefit. Playing without sneakers and shorts or taking an occassional puff during the game may not hamper the indivual’s talent, but it certainly bothers the others as a mark of disrespect to both the court and the players. Anybody not abiding by such unwritten rules is immediately treated as an outcast, and can even lead to unpleasant situations.

Another example: Drive around Aizawl in a car, and when you reach an intersection/crossroad where two roads converge into one, the cars from both roads usually move into the new road alternatively (you go – I go – you go – I go) on a turn by turn basis. This made things so much easier for everybody, unlike many other places in India especially the metros where driving etiquette is lost in oblivion and everybody fights to cut in at the least space available (Who dares win / Survival of the fittest). In Aizawl, the traffic police never made such a rule that cars must move alternatively at a junction, but people just comply with the unwritten rule. And anyone breaking such a rule is stared at by everyone, some even abusing that person.

Some people just assume that they can do whatever they want since it’s their life. Even in our Indian Legal system, there are the Do’s and Dont’s. If we can do whatever we want with our life, then why are we required by law to wear helmets when driving a two-wheeler, or to that fact, why do we have to compulsorily put on our seat-belts while driving a car? I mean, if we wish to die from an accident because we did not take the safety precautions, who is KPS Gill or Kiran Bedi to tell us how to safeguard our life, right? Wrong. That is not how things work. Like it or not, if you are a part of something, you have to abide by the laws imposed by that something. Period. Even if you sweat blood and toil to create a business empire dominating the World market, the Government will curb your progress and prevent you from reaping the fruits of your hard labour inorder to prevent monopoly.

And similarly we have our Fundamental Rights (right to freedom of speech, right to move freely throughout India, freedom of religion etc) but each of them comes with certain restrictions/limitations. Hence there is no such thing as an ABSOLUTE right in our Constitution. Even an “attempt to suicide” is a criminal offence in many countries! (For the smart-aleckies out there, “attempt to suicide” means the person failed in his mission to commit suicide and is still alive, hence no smart-ass comments like how can you imprison a man who is dead because suicide means blah blah blah).

Who framed our Indian Constitution? Learned people with vast knowledge on this subject. And who settles disputes regarding our Rights? A Supreme Court Judge well versed in the Legal system. Similarly, that is why I suggested our Church leaders should be more proactive regarding the dress code at Mizo Church services outside Mizoram, because they are the ones who know the teachings of the Bible well enough to guide us. As Billy Jason has commented in my previous post, it is indeed one of the important teachings of Christianity to dress up decently for Church services.

But the definition of “decent” differs from culture to culture. Hence society comes up with how one should dress up for Church. Quoting PC Sarkar from a book I’ve just read recently “Christianity in India” published by CSI, “Before the Christianization of India, there must be an Indianization of Christianity”. He said this during the onset of Christianity in India during the 1800’s to illustrate the importance of culture. In many Churches in India, the women wear “sari” because that is what they considered appropriate. Go to a South Indian Christian marriage and you will know what I’m talking about, where the tradition of tying the mangalsutra is in practice. Similarly in Mizoram, women are asked to wear “puan” because that is deemed “decent” according to our culture. All these are in practice, not to label women who don’t abide by such norms as blasphemous, but rather to showcase the importance of the influence of culture and attached values in Christianity. But in such cases where it is Society that imposes the rules, there will always be the conformists and the non-conformists.

Michael C. Howard in “Contemporary Cultural Anthropology” maintains that “Religion is not merely a matter of belief. It also involves institutionalized patterns of behavior – rituals, ceremonies and the like, which expresses and reinforce religious belief”. Another book I’ve just read (yes I’ve been doing a lot of reading recently *grin*) called “Culture and Religion” by Basil Pohlong, talks about the components of traits and drives of man originating from culture which gets embedded in religion. To quote the author, Pg102,

“I would like to point out here that religion cannot exist without culture. Removed from the cultural context, religion becomes merely blind faith in God and fanatic attachment with a set of rituals, beliefs, priest craft etc. Religion in this form has played havoc in the past. Once we separate religion from culture, it is bound to become the most dangerous phenomenon of humankind. A person of culture is characterized by extreme sensitivity. A sensitive person is not only conscious of his/her social and physical environment, but is quick in his/her reactions to whatever happens around him/her.”

And naturally, once culture comes into religion, conflict arises between those conforming to the rules and those who want to be “independent”. However history has proven that such liberties only lead to the further deterioration of the faith. In a way, culture safeguards the value of Christianity: It acts as a means of adhesion. And the more cohesive, smaller and closer-knitted the community is (like our Mizo society), the more rigorous the cultural norms are.

By all means, not wearing a “puan” to Church does not mean the person is any less devoted to God. However, when there are no such norms to be followed regarding the dress code, people would definitely start coming to Church dressed up in any way that they wished. “Puan” would become jeans, jeans would become mini-skirts, and mini-skirts would become thongs… because with the abolition of societal rules, there would no longer be a distinction between what is appropriate and what is not. Church services would merely become a pastime for erotic display of bare bodies, because the very word “decent” is nothing but a mere conception of the majority originating from culture.

God gave us the power to reason. We must utilize that gift positively, instead of just trying to question every existing dogma without taking into consideration other important factors first. There are things that people just don’t do in Churches, like farting or eating burgers / pizzas during the sermon.

It is possible for someone to chew on that large chunk of KFC Burger and listen to the sermon attentively at the same time, or it is possible for the person sitting next to you to hold his breath while the smell of your fart subsides. But these are things that people just don’t do; “Respect” is the key word here. And again culture plays an important role. Suppose a certain culture treats farting as the highest sign of showing respect, then things might be different. In some cultures, women wear headscarves to Church as a sign of submission to God. Women and men sit together during the Church service in some cultures while they don’t in other cultures. The Greeks spit on the bride during their Church weddings to bless her [saw it on “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”]. Japanese Christian women probably wear kimonos to Church, I don’t know. Cultural norms vary from place to place.

The bottom line is this: As a Christian it is our moral obligation to dress up decently for Church services, and culture does the job of explaining what that “decent” is. Hence to try and explain Christianity without bringing culture into it, is like trying to describe the colors to a blind man. Hence the reason why women in Mizoram wear “puan” to Church.

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Footnotes:

Similarly in that lines, wearing revealing clothes to a place of worship is NOT considered as a sign of respect in most (if not all) cultures. To display our bodies vulgarly is not only considered a disrespect to the Church but also a disrespect to our own body and to the other people around us.

[1 Timothy 2:9-10] "I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God."

Having undergone a short stint at a top B-School in India, in the true spirit of MBA culture, I have designed a simple 2x2 chart favored by all MBA students, on the kinds of clothes people wear to Church [The views expressed on the chart are entirely my own, and IIM-Bangalore will not be held responsible or liable to any charges ]


And in order to prevent any smart comments once again [something that my blogposts are not a stranger to], I urge my most respectable readers to be logical and assume what type of clothes would belong to which sex. For example, “Sari” which is under “formal” and “acceptable” is meant for a woman, and will not come under the above two categories if it’s a guy wearing it, hence questions like “What if it’s a guy wearing a sari” is totally unnecessary. The same goes for earrings etc. Your solemnity will be much appreciated. Thank you.

Ps. I think one of the biggest misconception about Christianity is that many people just assume it is a western religion (It never originated from the western World in the first place) and hence people intend to copy western cultures assuming that is how a Christian culture is supposed to be. One should keep in mind the high number of atheists, agnostics and unbelievers within the western civilizations before trying to simulate such cultures in the name of Christianity.

Have a nice day. God bless.

Chp 115. Dress code at Church services

“I can wear whatever I want. It’s my life. God does not love me any lesser for my outer appearance and what really counts is the inside”.

I’ve heard this quite a number of times when I used to go for the Mizo Church Service in Bangalore. It came mainly from the younger generation, and among them, a majority of them were from the female species.

It is ofcourse considered a normal psychological (and sociological) behavior for any youth to rebel against the existing norms of the Society. Nobody likes rules. Breaking (unwritten) code of conducts is considered cool and hep. It’s all a part of the adolescent phase.

But sometimes we need to contemplate on a few issues before discarding it as something that is natural or something that cannot be changed. It can indeed be changed! If the youth of Mizoram can dress up smartly to Church, why can’t the same youth dress up decently for Church Services outside Mizoram? Why is there a transition in the way one dress up for Church here in Mizoram and outside the State?

One reason is ofcourse the “Elder Factor”. In Mizoram, the Elders would definitely give you the “evil eye” if you dress up shabbily for Church. But outside Mizoram, the looks given by the Elders do not hold much water. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying our Mizo Elders (Families, Pastors, Civil servants, real grown-ups etc) outside Mizoram are not doing anything about it. Ofcourse they are; this is more of a hypothetical question “but are they all doing enough?”

Sometimes it might have to do with an ego thing too. Job opportunities outside Mizoram are definitely more abundant than in Mizoram. Hence many of our youngsters earn quite a lot. They soon reach that stage of being independent and having a sense of achievement without maturing properly first. Hence if an Elder (say an IPS or IAS officer) reprimands such a person for wearing shabby clothes to the Church service, the first thought on the youth’s mind would probably be, “Hell, I’m earning almost as much as you are. You’ve got no rights to tell me what to wear.”

Another important factor is ofcourse the climate. Places like Mumbai, Delhi, Chennai etc are way hotter and more humid than Mizoram. Hence one cannot expect Mizos in such areas to come to Church in suits or formals all the time. It is only logical for guys to wear tee shirts to Church sometimes. And with tee shirts, one cannot really wear formal pants along with it, hence must resort to jeans. And with jeans, comes sneakers instead of formal shoes. Similarly, women wear sleeveless. After all, with all the bras and other inner padding they must wear, you really don’t expect them to wear full body covers in such a hot climate.

But hang on a second here. This is exactly a case of “giving an inch, taking a mile”. By wearing jeans or cargoes, why must some of us wear those really flashy, baggy, hiphoppy, over-sized, torn, multi-branded ones? Don’t we have “normal” jeans? Ofcourse there is no actual official definition of what “normal” is, and it all depends upon the concept of the majority and its conformity to social norms. By “normal” I mean a simple plain jeans: Not flashy, not over-sized, and definitely with no chains and other trinkets hanging all around the side pockets! Some of the guys claim they do not have the financial capability to buy “normal” jeans. Ironic indeed, when they could afford such extravagant jeans…

Similarly, to the women, sleeveless is a wise decision when it's hot. But aren’t you pushing things a bit too far with tubes and spaghettis? Some of the guys’ minds do definitely wander a bit when you come walking into Church dressed in such revealing top and short minis that concealed less than what it’s actually supposed to… I know some women want to be the center of attraction all the time, to be admired and complimented upon… but during Church time, the center of attraction is ALWAYS God. Or have we all strayed away from the path of the good Lord so much as to have forgotten this?

Then comes the extra fitting. Once again I am defining “normal” on the basis of its conformity to social norms. Is it really necessary for guys to wear earrings to Church? Or in that matter, large steel bracelets, bling-blings and 5 metres long steel chains hanging from their low waist jeans up to their large Nike skids? Or the 10 extra pounds of make-up some women apply on their faces with fiery dark-red hair color, making them look like the “madam” of a “pleasure house” at Sodom and Gomorrah?

Such dress codes mentioned above, are the same clothes such people would wear to Pubs and Discs. Leaving aside the iniquity of getting drunk and immoral lifestyles at such establishments, we are further diluting and polluting the Holy Sanctity of the Church by even daring to enter the premises with the same clothes of Sin! Sure, some of you may feel I am taking an extremist view on this whole issue, but for a second there, please excogitate and think of all the sentiments that you are hurting… There is a fine line between being liberal and being promiscuous.

I know the first thing pro skanky-clothes sympathizers are going to say is, the ones who wear decent clothes aren’t all sanctified. Sure, they (we) aren’t, but atleast many of us got the decency to show respect when it's required. And by doing that, the faithful around us definitely feel comfortable in the presence of Christ. It is important to be considerate of others’ feelings too. Just because some of the guys who dress up decently aren’t decent, does that mean you must show your true colors by coming to Church almost naked like a cheap prostitute or an F-word addicted rap artist?

Again, I have read such discussions like “what if it’s a prostitute thirsting for the word of God, or a drug addict seeking God’s help and forgiveness, or a woman coming straight from work where her profession demands of her to wear such an outfit… don’t they all deserve to receive the Lord’s blessings too?” Ofcourse by all means they all do, the good Lord welcomes especially such people into His fold. But before you indulge yourself in such empty rhetoric, remind yourself about this: Our community is small and most of us know each other personally; hence we all know very well that such people are not the above mentioned people. They are merely students and a few proletarians, who definitely have a set of decent clothes for Church but decide to act otherwise, for reasons best known to them.

Once during my time in Bangalore, I was already seated inside the Church (Mizo Service) one fine Sunday, when a girl came and sat right next to me. It was hard not to notice her: She smelt like the perfume section of a high class Shopping Mall. Her long brown-dyed hair was curled beautifully, with the perfect touch of eye shadow and liner making her even more attractive. But what made me notice her the most were her legs. In other words, her milky white thighs. Because she wore an almost knee-length skirt which revealed even more when she sat cross-legged right next to me. During the entire Church sermon, I found my eyes subconsciously wandering every now and then to those legs…

As a human being, it is quite natural to have such “feelings”. Everyone, regardless of whether they are sinners or people of God, are susceptible to the temptations of the flesh. In that particular situation, I think I would have definitely listened more attentively to the ongoing sermon instead of being distracted by uttering a thousand times in my mind not to look at those thighs 3 inches away from me…

Some people might brand me as a conservative. However, as a Christian, it is our moral obligation to lead a Christian Life, a life that will distinguish us from people of other faiths. Do you want that distinctness to be all about wearing extravagant outfits or revealing micro skirts? Do you want the non-Christians to think that that is what being a Christian is all about? At Bangalore Wesley Church, one can easily observe many “roadside romeos” hovering around the Church premises waiting for the Mizo Service to be over so that they can ogle at some of our women. Sad…

Coming back to my opening line, “I can wear whatever I want. It’s my life. God does not love me any lesser for my outer appearance and what really counts is the inside”, ofcourse God loves us all for our inner thoughts and action rather than our outer appearances, but the real question is this: Do you really think that a person who claimed to be worth loving and yet show disrespect to Him in His Home, is actually worth being loved? Or are we going to fool ourselves endlessly by bringing up irrelevant topics like the fact that some people who dress up decently at Church are being hypocritical... How does that affect you in any way? That’s the hypocrites’ problem. God will deal with them on Judgment Day. Whereas in your case, not only are you being disrespectful, you are also creating a whole lot of unnecessary distractions…

Hence as a conclusion, comes the proverbial question: As a responsible Mizo adult settling outside Mizoram, are we all doing enough about the dress codes at our Mizo Church services? Giving them the “evil eye” or gossiping behind their back will not suffice. We need to walk up to such people and tell them frankly but politely, face to face, that such dress codes will not be tolerated and that maybe they might be better off not coming to Church at all if they are going to continue dressing up that way… Sometimes it might even be proper to ask such people to leave the Church premises right in the middle of the service infront of everyone… the embarrassment will not only assure them of ever repeating that again but will also make others think twice before putting on that skimpy outfit. Do we have the guts to tell them that? Or are we going to spend the rest of our lives bitching about that particular person “eeee kha nu kha maw? BiakInah a rawn in chei hot thei rapssss” without anyone ever actually telling the person that he/she is out of place?

Less gossip, more action, that is the key to our progressive development. Trust me, we Mizos have an advantage over our non-Mizo Christian friends when it comes to this. At many non-Mizo Christian services that I’ve been to, the Churchgoers don’t know each other personally, whereas our Mizo Church services are more of a community thing. Jonathan (Anglo) whom I befriended at an English Church service back in Hyderabad once told me that there are always such elements at every Church, but there was nothing much they could do about it since they don’t know them and there was also a question of privacy and wanting more people to attend the mass etc. But among our close knitted Mizo society, we can indeed do the needful. The question is this: The next time you see such a person at Church, will you rise to the occasion and tell that person it’s not right? The power to make the change rest in your hands my friends.

Chp 114. MSSU lecture no.10

I meant to update this post sooner, but my poor phone conked (the IC burnt and need to be replaced, so claimed the crafty-eyed mobile technician at CellOne, Bazar Bungkawn, next to CYDIT). Hence, my entire phone book, data, pics etc. are lost forever. So please sms me with your name so I can start building up my contact numbers again. Thanx.

And this is for my friends like BlackWhite, Jenis & a few others: Dad is using my old number. I already changed my number to 9863228021 so please stop smsing my dad! He really freaks out when he receives an sms in the middle of the night with messages like “Yo brother, guess what, I’m drunk” .

By the way, I changed some of the layout on the right hand side with new pics and sponsors. Hope you like it.

Coming back to the main topic here, MSSU (Mizoram Sunday School Union) topic (zirlai) no.10, as already pointed out in my earlier post, the theme for this year is “About the Israelites” (Israel-te chanchin). Chapter 10 dealt with the way the land was divided among the 12 tribes of Israel.

As I sat listening to the lecture, a couple of things occurred to me.

First and foremost, SweetDevil’s words came into my mind: “Sunday Schools are boring”. As I looked around, most of the guys were sleeping as our particular section teacher taught us. After all, in a way, it was a tad boring, to learn about the various names of the cities, rivers and seas marking the boundary of each tribe of Israel. Plus, there wasn’t that great a learning to be extracted from such a lesson (as mentioned before, Sunday Schools are different from Church service sermons). It was more geographical rather than Biblical.

Secondly, I looked around at all the section Sunday School teachers. Most of them taught and taught, even though they could clearly observe that some of the people they were teaching were sleeping right under their very noses. If I were in their place, I think I would be insulted to be ignored like that, but then, I guess that’s what being a Sunday School teacher is about. You cannot treat the “students” like actual school/college students. Leniency, patience and tolerance are a must.

Thirdly, I constructed a map of the particular lesson.



When mom saw the above map that I made using Photoshop™, she scolded me immediately for not making such a map earlier BEFORE Sunday. Because she herself is a Sunday School teacher, and the map would definitely help her students understand the particular lesson a whole lot better. Sorry mom

Anyway, during the course of the lesson last Sunday, when the land was divided among the twelve tribes of Israel, inquisitive me counted the territories, and I counted thirteen tribes! Not twelve. So I asked our teacher (Pu Râlliana) why there were thirteen and not twelve. He smiled and told me the reason…

Quiz time!!!!

Hehehe… Can you tell me why? According to the above map, there are twelve tribes plus the tribe of Levi, who did not get any share of the Land.

Joshua 18:7
The Levites, however, do not get a portion among you, because the priestly service of the LORD is their inheritance.

…and were given towns to live in from among the various territories of the other tribes of Israel

Joshua 21: 3
So, as the LORD had commanded, the Israelites gave the Levites the following towns and pasturelands out of their own inheritance

As observed on the map, the biggest share was obtained by the tribe of Manasseh, which most Mizos are familiar with, as this is the tribe that many of our Jewish Mizo brethrens who migrated to Israel claimed to be a descendent of… [Related reading: Mizos: Lost Tribe of Israel or just a lost tribe?]

And then comes the other tribes like Judah, Simeon, Benjamin etc. To make it easier for you, let me note it down this way:

01. Levi (not on map)
02. Manasseh
03. Judah
04. Simeon
05. Rueben
06. Gad
07. Dan
08. Ephraim
09. Zebulun
10. Asher
11. Issachar
12. Naphtali
13. Benjamin

Why are there 13 tribes? Which is the extra tribe? Where did it come from? Ofcourse I already know the answer after our section Teacher explained it to me. I just wanna make this interesting by asking you in return. Hehe… don’t Google!!!! I can see you. You’re only cheating yourself, my friend. Instead, take the Bible and try to find the answer there. Clue : The Book of Joshua.

Ofcourse I cannot offer any prize to the one who gets it correct, but then, you will always be remembered in my books as a knowledgeable Christian. And ofcourse this quiz is not open to John Fanai, Rema etc, who are all well versed in the content of the Holy Book and are serving the good Lord as missionaries. God bless you all my brothers.

I await your answer!

Chp 113. A poem for women

Mistake – A Poem. 


Winter dark red skies, on the distant Horizon,
A Mizo version of, the Aurora borealis.
Rendering a clear view, of the mighty Orion,
T’was a night full of, romance and bliss.

Sangi cuddled intimately, in her lover’s arms,
All alone with him, at the peak of Beraw.
Oh he was so chivalrous, filled with charm!
And she was an Angel, the Queen of Cheraw.

Together they made, such an amazing pair,
Like two fiery lovebirds, flying on a mission.
And then his hands strayed, down her silky hair,
Sangi sighed, but protest turned to submission…

The next half an hour, was quick and rough,
Sangi neither enjoyed, nor felt any pleasure.
But she couldn’t say no, to the man she loved,
To her it was commitment; to him, leisure.

But after that day, things abruptly changed,
Sangi and he, would consistently fight.
Every time she called, his phone was engaged,
Still she tried to fix things, with all her might.

Soon enough he found, somebody else to adore,
And Sangi was left alone, detested by others.
She couldn’t lead the life, she had led before,
For she had now become, an unwed mother…


Dedicated to all the nuthlawis (single mothers) out there, who are still paying the price for a mistake they committed a long time ago, who courageously faced Society’s “evil eye” and braved through the thick and thin all by themselves, who knows the true meaning of Life and rather bring up a child all alone than put it to a cruel death… in my books, you are my number one heroes, the real unsung heroes of our Mizo society. God bless you, women, and keep the faith.


You're not alone – A conclusion. 


Sangi led a lonely life, in solitude and seclusion,
Her friends she lost, her happiness she faked.
She longed to be free, she wanted a diversion,
But her life must change, for her baby’s sake.

Gone are the days, of uncontrolled laughter,
Her tears only increases, her anger it fuels.
Her father is mortified, to call her his daughter,
He became the butt, of Society’s ridicules.

But still she held on, doting her protruding belly,
For how could she kill, a living soul no less?
She braved all criticisms, she was called unholy,
She prayed to God, for strength and forgiveness.

It’s not funny or easy, if you are the victim,
With freedom at one hand, and life at the other.
T’is so easy to snip, and kill the holy Seraphim,
Death of an Angel, rather than become a mother?

Be strong, be steadfast, oh women of Mizoram,
For the Glory days of our Lord, is coming soon.
He will take your child, and protect it from harm,
From all the hypocrites, under the sun or moon.

Chp 112. Proof of Malaria

“It is an honor to die for our Country while defending the Constitution, hence we are ready to face any bullets from the Naxals; but to be sent home (Mizoram) in body bags because of a mosquito bite is extremely disgraceful”.
- Mizo IR Battalion soldier posted at Chhatisgarh.

(No Mizos have died in the hands of the Naxals so far, but already 3 have succumbed to Malaria, with more than 50 Mizos in the infirmary going through various stages of Malarial PF infection)

I was down with a 104° plus temperature for the past 10 days, hence no update on my blog (or misual.com). It was definitely not an NBC sitcom moment

When I was at the height of my sickness, attacked by severe paroxysms of chillness rendering me (almost) breathless, my folks rushed me to the hospital. I was already heavily medicated so I don’t remember much, except waiting for 30 minutes which seemed like 31 minutes, for my blood test result to come out… finally, the nervous anticipation and trepidation was over: the doctor confirmed that it was not Malaria. Phew!

Comically enough, I recovered pretty quickly once I realized I was not carrying the dreaded sporozoan parasite transmitted by the jobless infected female Anopheles mosquito. Ah Malaria, Shoooo shoooo!

Before the blood test, everybody feared it might be Malaria. I tried convincing myself it was not Malaria, but there could be no real conviction without an actual test. But at the same time, I was just too scared to get a blood test done. Hence, a part of me gave up hope trying to fight the fever, because I still could not completely believe if it was a case of Malaria or not.

And that is how most of us are: We need proof inorder to believe in something, an evidence that we can see with our own eyes, or touch with our own hands…

When our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ rose from the dead and appeared infront of the disciples, Thomas (called Didymus), one of the Twelve disciples, was not present.

[John 20]

²⁵So the other disciples told Thomas, "We have seen the Lord!" But he said to them, "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it."

²⁷Then Jesus said to Thomas, "Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe."

²⁸Thomas said to him, "My Lord and my God!"

²⁹Then Jesus told him, "Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

Amen.

While I was sweating profusely from the after effects of paracetamol, larkin and antibiotics, I just couldn’t convince myself that it was not Malaria. It was only after the Laboratory doctor confirmed that it was not Malaria, that my body started fighting back.

However, apart from the senses of touch and sight, there was something else amiss. I couldn’t feel if it was Malaria or not. But in the case of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, many of us may not see or touch Him physically, but we definitely feel Him in our lives. And yet, we still falter from our beliefs inspite of such an experience… Must we all be like Thomas, asking the good Lord for proof first before believing?

The lonely road of sickness

Any of you who had been through such a similar experience will know what I am talking about: we always miss the one we love the most when we are down with a high fever.

I happened to dig out one of my earliest posts, dated December 22nd 2004! (The day I started the visit counter on my blog) FEVER It's about the time I felt really sick in IIMB and missed all my love and dear ones…

As I always used to be away from Home, whenever I felt sick, I always miss my parents. Now that I was at home with soaring temperature, I didn’t miss my folks at all, but I really miss my friends, sisters and my sweet girlfriend. We always miss the ones who are not currently with us. That’s the paradigm of sickness.

The one big difference between my earlier sickness and the latest one was, I always wanted to turn more towards God or be reformed once I recover. Just like how we miss the people who are not with us, we also miss God, promising to be a better Christian once we recover. But now, I do not miss God at all. For how can I miss someone who is always with me by my side?

Lying in bed the whole day with uncontrollable shivers, missing all my material friends, I realized one very important revelation: I was alone, but I was not lonely. Jesus Christ was there with me all along the road of wheeze and sneeze. He gave me companionship spiritually. It was a great journey indeed. Although I was extremely delirious from all the medications, I felt complete.

Thank you once again, sweet Jesus, for delivering me from the clutches of Viral fever and making me fit again so that I can continue serving You.

Psalm 121
I lift up my eyes to the hills--
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip--
he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD watches over you--
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all harm--
he will watch over your life;
the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.

Chp 111. To Nepal, with Love.

The icy bitter wind sliced through the cold amorphous morning air like a chunk of dry ice forcefully submerged in a sea of frozen glacier. The cloudy sheet of voluminous mist enabled just a mere 50 meters visibility.

Sharma and Rajesh, the two border security guards, clad in thick burly army over coats and woolen mufflers covering their heads, stood on their grounds, cursing their job and duty. The woven gloves they wore were hardly enough to protect them from the freezing temperature embracing them.

That was their job, to man the check gate at the porous Indo-Nepal border and search the vehicles traveling into Nepal for any “contraband”.

Sharma always used to crib and complain about their inhumane posting, while Rajesh would assure him time and again that they were much better off getting frostbites there rather than hunting for Maoists in the Valley.

vrrroooooooooommmm…

The unmistakable rickety sound of an approaching engine woke them up from their respective motionless states immediately, and just like any other day, they stood up in full alert behind the closed border gate, one hand gripping their semi-automatic weapon while the other hand clutch a walkie-talkie, so that they could warn the ever vigilant transmitter room immediately incase trouble erupts.

It was an old Mahindra Jeep that appeared slowly from amidst the heavy mist. It had an Indian license plate. WB – West Bengal. The headlights perforated through the blurry surroundings, lighting them up in an eerie and mystified demonic way. On seeing the closed gate, the Jeep came to a bumpy halt and switched off its headlights.

Sharma cautiously approached the Jeep, his fingers on the trigger of his gun, while Rajesh stood behind the gate, already informing HQ about the arrival of the vehicle.

Inside the Jeep were four middle-aged men. The driver looked Indian, the other looked like a Nepali, and the other two men sitting at the back, well… they were of a tanned mongoloid facial character that resembled more of the North Eastern people of India.

“Paper”, commanded Sharma.

The one who looked like a Nepali was indeed a Nepali. He handed Sharma a bunch of paper while wishing him a great day in their lingua franca. Sharma smiled sarcastically.

All the documents seemed to be in order. Permission to take the Indian registered vehicle into Nepal from the Ministry of Transportation. Passports and permission for two tourists from India to travel into Nepal from the Tourism Department.

As Sharma handed back the documents, he told the one who was a Nepali, “You still know I have to search your vehicle right?”

“Yes Sir. I am fully aware of that.”

“Good. By the way, where are your two guests sitting behind from?”

“They are from Mizoram, Sir. It is one of the States of…”

“Yes yes I know where Mizoram is. Do I look like a fool?” Sharma retorted with an air of know-it-all attitude. He looked at the two passengers and then focused his attention at the Nepali again. “Mizoram huh? So they are Christians?”

It was pretty clear from Sharma’s tone that he did not even try to conceal his disgust… “Yes Sir” replied the Nepali sitting in the front seat.

After a brief moment of silence that felt like ages, Sharma finally broke the lull, “Ok. Now let me see what you all are carrying.”

The Nepali sitting in the front seat got down and opened the dickey of the Jeep. There were two suitcases filled with clothes, the usual kind of belongings any traveler would have. After Sharma quickly went through the pile of clothes, he noticed two medium-sized cartons stacked up on the side of the dickey.

“What is in there?” Sharma asked suspiciously.

“Uh… just books…”

“What kind of books?”

“Something like a study material. There are a couple of great lessons in them…”

“Open it”, ordered Sharma.

As Sharma was more preoccupied with the cold blizzard blowing at his face, he failed to notice the two Mizos sitting at the back seat nervously glancing at each other. He however noticed the Nepali guy’s fingers shake as he opened the carton but he dismissed this as a normal behavior due to the freezing nature around them.

Sharma waited patiently to inspect the cartons. The Nepali passenger was telling him the truth. Inside the cartons were tons of books. Books with a black cover. Sharma picked up a copy and read the name of the book. The New Testament.

“What kinda book is this?” Sharma asked the Nepali passenger again.

“Well, basically they are books about moral teachings… they contain great lessons in it”, the passenger repeated.

“Hmmmmm…” Sharma quickly flipped through the book putting on a discerning look. “Well I still have to check the rest of the books to make sure they are all the same”.

After ten minutes of opening up both the cartons, taking out all the books and making sure they were all similar, Sharma finally told him to keep them back inside and that they were clear to go.

Within no time, the junky old Jeep came back to life. Rajesh opened the gate and the Jeep entered Nepal.

As the red tail light of the Jeep disappeared from their view, swallowed up by the hungry thick mists surrounding them, Rajesh asked Sharma, “So, what were they carrying?”

“Uh... just some useless books, probably for a School. The two passengers at the back were Christians, from Mizoram.”

“Christians? You checked their luggage didn’t you?”

“Yup” Sharma replied, “I am well aware of our highest priority order especially when it comes to Christians entering our Country. I checked them inside out, they were clean. They didn’t have anything with them.”

“That’s good. We should always remain vigilant to make sure none of these Christian missionaries ever come into our Country carrying the Bible.”

---------------------


**/ Fictitious story based partially on the true-life incident of our Bial Pastor Pu K.Thangmawia.

****/ Carrying The Holy Bible into Nepal (in bulk) is indeed banned.

http://atheism.about.com/library/irf/irf02/blirf_nepal.htm
The law prohibits converting others and proselytizing, activities that are punishable with fines or imprisonment.

Chp 110. Mizoram Statistics

I still remember a couple of instances when I was doing some project or the other, and I suddenly need a couple of data regarding Mizoram, like the population, density etc... First of all it was embarrassing because I didn't know it myself since it was my Home State. Secondly, it was frustrating because most of the results I got on Google™ were vague or outdated.

Hence, from the recently published "Statistical Handbook of Mizoram 2006" I am just refurnishing some of the data printed there, so as to help others who might be looking for such data on Google™ (my blog sometimes shows on up the first page of Google search result )

For further inquiry, feel free to contact me at silv_kim[at]yahoo[dot]com if you cannot find the official site/figures that you require. I would be obliged to help you out (In Mizo, we call this "tlawmngaihna" )

State Capital: Aizawl (NOT Aizwal or Aizol or Ijol plzzzz!!!
No. of Districts: 8
Population (2001 census): 888,573
Percentage of Christians (2001 census): 86.97%
Geographical Area: 21081 sqkm
Population Density: 42 per sqkm

Longitude: 92°.15' E to 93°.29' E
Latitude: 21°.58' N to 24°.35' N

Length
North - South		East - West
277 KM		121 KM
Border Length
International Borders		National Borders
With Myanmar	404 KM	With Assam	123 KM
With Bangladesh	318 KM	With Tripura	66 KM
		With Manipur	95 KM

Population (as per 2001 census)
Male	Female	Sex Ratio		Rural	Urban	Ratio
459,109	429,464	935:1000		447,567	441,006	1.01

District-wise Stats:

District	Area (sqkm)	No. of House hold	Population			Decadel Variation 91-01	Literacy Rate
			Male	Female	Total
Lunglei	4536	27889	71402	65821	137223	23.10	84.20
Aizawl	3756	64753	166877	158799	325676	38.10	96.50
Champhai	3185	22059	55756	52636	108392	29.90	91.20
Mamit	3025	12253	33114	29671	62785	-02.70	79.10
Lawngtlai	2557	13902	38776	34884	73620	35.80	64.70
Serchhip	1421	10116	27380	26481	53861	17.60	95.10
Saiha	1399	11109	31242	29814	61056	33.60	82.20
Kolasib	1382	14053	34562	31398	65960	35.20	91.30

Some of the Church Denominations of Mizoram (2005-2006):

Denomination	No. of local Church/ Corps/Parish	Total members
		Male	Female	Total
Presbyterian Church of India	1093	255451	255919	511370
Mizoram Baptist Church	410	60728	59857	120585
UPC (Mizoram)	358	21136	21557	42693
Salvation Army	*207	NA	NA	*50005
7th Day Adventist	173	NA	NA	16858
Roman Catholic	17	NA	NA	17864

* Denotes the year 2004-2005

No. of Workers and Missionaries sponsored (2005-2006):

Denomination	No. of Workers			No. of Missionaries sponsored
	Temp	Perm	Total
Presbyterian Church of India	1164	1237	2401	1435
Mizoram Baptist Church	32	412	444	461
Salvation Army	*248	*218	*466	*296
Roman Catholic	45	187	232	NIL
7th Day Adventist	64	115	179	62
UPC (Mizoram)	67	80	147	30

*Denotes the year 2004-2005

Altitude of District HQs of Mizoram:

	District HQ	Height (metres)		District HQ	Height (metres)
1	Champhai	1678	5	Aizawl	1132
2	Serchhip	1281	6	Mamit	901
3	Saiha	1225	7	Lawngtlai	849
4	Lunglei	1222	8	Kolasib	722

Weather and Humidity in Mizoram (2005):



Ps. It took me more than four hours to design this graphical representation using Photoshop (MS Excel graph sux) so if you are reproducing this data from my blog, please don't forget to give me the credit!

Important rivers of Mizoram:

	River	Length (KM)		River	Length (KM)
1	Tlawng	185.15	7	Tuichawng	107.87
2	Tiau	159.39	8	Mat	90.16
3	Chhimtuipui	138.46	9	Tuipui	86.94
4	Khawthlangtuipui	128.08	10	Tuivawl	72.45
5	Tuichang	120.75	11	Teirei	70.84
6	Tuirial	117.53	12	Tuirini	59.57

Mountains of Mizoram:

	Mountain	Height (metres)		Mountain	Height (metres)
1	Phawngpui	2157	9	Zopui Tlang	1850
2	Lengteng	2141	10	Tawizo	1837
3	Surtlang	1967	11	Mawmrangtlang	1812
4	Lurhtlang	1935	12	Puruntlang	1758
5	Tantlang	1929	13	Hmuifangtlang	1619
6	Vapartlang	1897	14	Saireptlang	1555
7	Chalfilhtlang	1866	15	Sakawrhmuituaitlang	1535
8	Hrangturzotlang	1854	16	Reiektlang	1485

Reiek Tlang (1485m) is the only mountain I scaled by foot so far

Chp 109. More than a Thousand Words

Just like how Churches come in all shapes and sizes, gospel songs too come in all styles and genres.

Among the Rock category, nothing can beat my number one band, PETRA. My all time favorite song of theirs is definitely “More than a thousand words”, based on Romans 8:26.

I saw Your picture hanging on the wall
Just an artist rendering that was all
The way You looked down in Your agony
Jogged my memory
And helped me to see

If a picture's worth a thousand words
Then it won't help me at all
Only words are never gonna say
What I feel for You today

(Chorus)
More than a thousand words won't say
More than my life will not repay
More than a thousand things I do
Won't make it up to You

Many of my friends place “No doubt” and “Just reach out” as their favorite song of Petra. I love those songs too, but if I were asked to name just one, then that song would be “More than a thousand words”.

All their songs really touch me… but this particular song seem to take that extra mile when it comes to poignancy… it never fails to bring tears to my eyes especially during that phase when I just came out of Camp… I thought and thought… what makes this song stand out from the rest… and then it occurred to me.

I love to write. I love describing things with words, however amateur I may be. I use vocabs as a tool to express my feelings, a weapon to slice through intangible situations, a means to transport people into my magical World filled with imagination and illusion... And the part of the song that goes like, “Only words are never gonna say, what I feel for You today. More than a thousand words won’t say…” felt like the lever of a dam that opens up to let a thousand tonne of water gush out…

Some songs can touch us so deeply that we just cry, songs that are played on a specific occasion. I cried on our School graduation day when I was saying goodbye to my “brothers” of more than 5 years, because I’ve shared so much with them… The songs that made me cry then were “We’ll be together” (Grease II OST), “Driftaway” (Motley Crüe), “C U when you get there” (Coolio) and “Goodbye” (Air Supply). Vitamin C’s “Graduation” wasn’t released then, otherwise it would definitely be on that list too.

When my good friend Francis passed away, the songs that brought tears to my eyes as I thought of him were “A Place Nearby” (Lene Marin), “No one but you – Only the good die young” (Queen) and “Dust in the wind” (Kansas).

I guess am feeling similar emotions again when I play this song by Petra over and over again on my Winamp…

Chp 108. A special Valentine's Day post

14th February
Valentine’s Day, Aizawl.

The two steaming cups of hot cappuccino remained still on the round coffee table, revealing no signs of movement from its original position, a subtle hint that the two people sitting face to face across the coffee table were here for reasons other than drinking hot beverages.

It was a cold cold winter’s day in the city of Aizawl, the kind of weather that would force even the most hot-tempered shrew to revert to mere facial gestures during the heat of an argument. But inside the warm comfort of “David’s Kitchen”, the atmosphere was far from bitter and cold. Couples all around the restaurant were in each other’s arms, listening to the track of “Faithfully” by Journey while whispering sweet nothings to each other. Yup, couples were indeed cozy everywhere… everywhere but that round coffee table where the cappuccinos were untouched.

“You’re kidding right?” John’s wounded stare penetrated deep inside Nancy’s dark eyes. Although he knew she was telling him the truth, he thought maybe, if he probed hard enough into her eyes, things would change, and that somewhere deep inside her head, something was making her play a prank on him. A cruel prank.

“No John… it’s true. I’m so sorry…” Nancy’s trembling voice was undoubtedly convincing.

“First you kept me waiting for hours. Our date was for 11am. Now it’s 1 freaking PM. And now you tell me THIS…” John could speak no longer.

“Believe me John, everyday I tried to tell you, but you have no idea how difficult it is for me to…”

John exploded. “You mean after all these years… after all that we’ve been through…” Overcame by a sudden overflowing emotion of utmost betrayal, John abruptly stood up, spilling the two hot cappuccinos all over the coffee table. Other couples around them stopped cuddling and stared at them.

“John…” Nancy pleaded, but John was no longer listening to a single word coming out of her mouth…

As John got up from his chair in full fury, everything around him closed in. He felt intoxicated. suffocated. sick. betrayed. giddy. cheated. He had to get some air, pronto. He wasn’t even sure how he managed to walk outside; he didn’t care. It was only when the cold Aizawl wind hit him sharply on the face that he realized he was no longer inside “David’s Kitchen”.

“Taxi” he screamed out. As he furiously jumped inside the first taxi that stopped by, he heard somebody call out his name from behind. It was a meek voice. He recognized that voice too damn well; he didn’t turn back. “Chanmari West”, he yelled.

As Nancy stood all alone infront of “David’s Kitchen” watching the white taxi disappear around a curve at Chanmari, tears uncontrollably rolled down her cheeks. She froze. Two passersby noticed her plight immediately and inquired with the utmost concern if there was anything wrong. She forced herself to smile at them; something that required all her strength to do so, dried her eyes quickly and started walking in the opposite direction towards Zarkawt.

For the next two weeks, John was devastated. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. He even lost faith in God for a few days, ridiculously blaming Him for everything.

Nancy had been the only girl he ever loved. They had been classmates right from Kindergarten all the way through College! They knew each other inside out completely and had been inseparable even when other young boys of their age group were fighting with the girls to show their repulsion for the opposite sex.

Even when adolescence kicked in, John and Nancy were like two prime numbers: undividable. Hence their respective parents were not surprised at all when they revealed to them that they were madly and deeply in love with each other. That was during their High School.

From then onwards, John and Nancy grew even closer and closer. Inspite of all the years of companionship, neither John nor Nancy could sleep without spending a few hours together during the day. Soon, both families started making the wedding plans, much to the two lovers’ delight.

And now, Nancy confessed to John, on Valentine’s Day, a few months before their wedding day, that she met somebody else, and had been seeing him behind his back for more than 3 months now. To add fuel to the fire, Nancy even mentioned that she might be pregnant with her secret lover’s child!

John was beyond remorse initially. He could not talk to anybody coherently. But slowly, time became a great healer. He started socializing again, with help from close friends and family. He heard from his cousins that Nancy had left the City that following week, probably with her lover, and was rumored to have shifted to Kolasib, the adjoining district.

He still had occasional nightmares for a few more weeks. He hated anything that reminded him of Nancy. Hence he hated everything. But slowly, the wounds healed. The scars remained but he found ways to conceal them.

A year later, he met Donna. She was nothing compared to Nancy, but atleast he started smiling again. As Donna became more and more involved in his personal life, John started believing in love again. Donna understood what John went through and even though she knew she would never take Nancy’s place, she could fill some of the void Nancy left behind.

3 years of romancing later, John and Donna got married.

John and Donna lived happily from then onwards. They had four wonderful children, all bubbly and cheerful. John was contented with life and it's blessings. But on extremely rare occasions, he still used to wonder how life would have been like if it was with Nancy instead of Donna. He had absolutely no idea how Nancy is doing, for he made no attempt to contact her.

It had been more than 40 years later, after his retirement and all his children were married off, that he happened to clean up his messy old cupboard. From the bottom of the randomly cleaned pile of old documents and files, he dug out his old faded photo album!

With wrinkled fingers, he turned the pages carefully. Every photograph in it were of him and Nancy, right from when they were kids climbing his father’s cherished jackfruit tree to the time they graduated from School and College together. Oh he looked so stupid in those old-fashioned pants and shirts, while Nancy seemed to look as fresh and beautiful as ever. He suddenly felt this tremendous urge to cry.

After an hour of spending a very emotional time alone, he decided that he should atleast see her one last time. He wanted to see who the guy was that stole his soul mate away from him. He wanted to shake the hands of her children. He wanted to spend time with Nancy again, just like old times! Atleast they owe each other that, he muttered.

2 days later, he arrived at Kolasib. It didn’t take time for him to locate Nancy’s house, for he found out that she had a relative at Kolasib, a cousin.

Taking a long hard deep breath, he knocked on her door.

A young lad of around 18 opened the door. John looked at him and wondered if he was Nancy’s son.

“Yes?”

“Hi. I am a dear old friend of…” The dear old friend part came out of his mouth with such an ease that it even surprised him… “of Nancy. Is she around?”

“Huh? Maaaa, there’s an old gentleman here looking for Aunty Nancy.”

An old woman came to the door, ushering John to step inside. After John introduced himself, the woman exclaimed, “I knew you would come one day. Nancy told me about everything…”

The word “everything” still felt like a spear jabbed through John’s heart, even after all these years!

“Sit down please… John.”

As John sat down, Nancy’s cousin continued… “I’m afraid Nancy is no more…”

John suddenly felt an excruciating pain deep within him, as if he was struck by lightning a hundred times. He asked immediately, “When? How?”

“It was a long time ago. More than 40 years ago. She felt sick…”

“What sickness? And what happened to her child…”

“John, before Nancy breathed her last, she made me promise one thing, that if you do come visiting her one day, I must never tell you anything else, other than the fact that she died. I’m sorry John…”

John sat alone for a long time, not believing what he just heard. He cried again, lost in time, memories of him and Nancy running around the hills filled his senile head…

“Can I atleast go through some of her old stuff? Please please? I’m sure she has a lot of things I will remember…”

Nancy’s cousin could feel the desperation in John’s voice, and knowing it would do them no harm, she led John inside her bedroom. Under her bed, she kept a small trunk. Inside it were Nancy’s belongings. John started crying again, as he remembered many of the dresses in that trunk. On the side of the trunk was a small box covered with a plastic cover. He gently uncovered the box.

Inside the small box, undisturbed by moisture and age, were photographs of him and his dear Nancy! They were not as faded as the ones he had at home because of the airtight wrapper. There was also a small bundle of letters, letters that he wrote to Nancy all through his life until that fateful day she ran away with somebody else. He cried and cried again.

And then he noticed a small crumpled paper at the side of the trunk. Something seemed to make him pick it up. As he softly opened the paper, his hands started trembling… his knees gave away and he collapsed to the ground. Everything around him started shaking and spinning… his blood pressure rose alarmingly. And then everything became so clear to John… so lucidly clear… as if it had just the previous day when he was sitting with Nancy at “David’s Kitchen”….

There never was a child involved. There never even was another guy in the picture! The piece of crumpled paper was a diagnosis report from Aizawl Civil Hospital, stating that Nancy was dying of blood cancer… and a doctor noted that there was nothing they could do save her… the date and time on the small appointment sheet was 14 Febraury 11am... That was the reason why Nancy was late that day…

Chp 107. The true value of friendship

Lately I’ve been feeling tall. Extremely tall.

I feel as if I’ve grown a few inches taller! But strangely, all my pants still fit me perfectly. And then I realized why I am feeling this way.

It’s because I’ve been hanging out a lot lately with short people!

What happened to my usual gang of tall friends?

Ever since my exuberant experience with the Lord, I’ve been going to every Church service possible. And my usual gang of friends, well, let’s just say, they do not consider Church attendance a very important part of their Christian life, although most of them turn up on Sundays. Hence on weekdays, for the night services, I go to Church with a different set of people. Short people.

But does that mean I stop hanging out with my old set of friends? No. They are the most amazing bunch of guys I have ever known, and they’ve been my friends since childhood. Just because they do not see the good Lord the way I see Him does not make them any less of a friend. During my “peniel", one of the most persistent requests I made to the good Lord was not to give me that “Holier than thou” attitude if I ever undergo a transformation.

Our gang of friends, well, we’ve been through a lot together. We used to party together, get drunk, experiment on strange “stuff”, and sometimes sit together at Church and giggle at the good people dancing in the Church consumed by the Holy Spirit. Ah, we were so stupid then.

And there I was, sitting in Church with the same set of friends for the first time since I came out of Camp. I think there was some discomfort in the air around us, but I don’t know if it was because of them or me. And then the song started, and everybody started singing and clapping and dancing… I closed my eyes as I clapped my hands and sang… and I felt this great call from within, urging me to do what I really felt like… at first, I was shy, thinking, what will my friends think of me… but as the chorus of the song filled the Church…

Vân ropui, Eden thar nuam chu,
Lungngaih awm tawh lohna hmun chu;
Aw, engtik nge ka thlen ve ang,
I chatuan lalna ram, êng mawi nuam tak chu?

(Glorious Heaven, the new Eden of total bliss
Where there is no longer sadness/loneliness,
Oh, when will I reach that magnificent Place,
Your eternal Kingdom, with its bright lights of splendor?)

It was at THAT very moment that all thoughts of shyness and hesitation disappeared. I just didn’t care what my friends would think of me. I stood up, something that I never did before, raised my hands, clapped, shouted praises to the good Lord, SCREAMED OUT HALELUIA and sang with all my heart with tears streaming down my face, right there in the midst of all my friends! Ah! I’ve NEVER felt that complete in my entire life. Maybe my friends around me were laughing at me, I just didn’t care. All that mattered was our Lord, Almighty father.

And you know what? After Church, none of my friends even commented on what I did. We continued talking just like we used to, as if nothing strange or different happened. Nobody teased me about it. From that day onwards, I became a regular “one who dance” guy. And boy, it felt GREAT!

Now I truly understood what “M” meant when she told me “A true friend is someone who will not make fun of your beliefs or shortcomings.”

Two years ago, I had the opportunity to spend an entire day shopping with a family friend, M. She was what everyone would call a “nula fel”. I still remember I was a bit nervous that day, because other than the fact that it was the first time I was alone with her, there was also a great contrast in our lifestyle. She was extremely devoted to God, caring, helpful, never uttering a single cuss word, always smiling and cheerful, abstaining from kuhva, cigarettes, chewing tobacco, alcohol etc, pure at heart and definitely a virgin. One cannot help giving such people their profound admiration and respect; they seem to have this divine aura around them. She’s now happily married to a Pastor, serving the good lord at Charachandhpur.

What amazed me that day was, when we paid her closest friends a visit, I was expecting them to be pretty much like her… you know, all the goody goody stuff. I was wrong. So wrong. Her best friend “S” was an unwed mother, uncertain about who the father of her 4-5 months old baby was. Her other friend, also called “S”, turned out to be someone I knew from Bangalore! Not personally, but I’ve seen her a lot at Pubs and Discs back then, partying wildly with Middle-eastern students and alcohol, but not crossing that line of promiscuity.

Later I asked her how come her friends were so different from her, and she just laughed. She told me that those two girls had been her close friends since school, and that there is more to friendship than having similar lifestyles. “How they lead their life does not make them any less of a friend”, she told me, while adding, “but yeah, I do pray for them every night, hoping they will turn more towards God.”

Back in School, our dormitory warden Brother Montfort always used to say, “Identify the bad elements among you, and stay away from them. Do not even mingle with such people”. Hence, when I became a “bad element” later in life, I always used to think the “good elements” were avoiding me. Now I realized all that was just in my head, and that in reality, a good Christian NEVER forsake a fellow Christian friend.

In Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians, Paul wrote, “If anyone does not obey our instruction in this letter, take special note of him. Do not associate with him, in order that he may feel ashamed. Yet do not regard him as an enemy, but warn him as a brother.” [2 Thessalonians 3: 14-15]

Yet do not regard him as an enemy, but warn him as a brother.

Amen to that.

Even though I know I am definitely not qualified enough to preach His Holy word to others, one thing I can atleast do is to try making my friends experience what I am going through right now. Hence, everyday, although it takes me just 5 minutes to reach Church, I start off from home 30 minutes early, so that I can visit all my friends on the way and invite them to come with me to Church. Ofcourse so far, no success except on Sundays, but still I will keep trying, and trying, and trying. Not forcefully, but just a humble invitation coated with a genuine smile.

Remember that popular born again song “Great Change”? We used to sing it in school when I was still studying in Mizoram (1985). It goes like this (Don’t freak out, my memory is not that good! I just happened to dig out my old school song book just the other day )

Chorus: Great change since I was born (3)
There’s a great change since I was born.

1. Things I used to do, I do them no more (3)
There’s a great change since I was born. [chorus]

2. Books I used to read I read them no more (3)
There’s a great change since I was born. [chorus]

3. Songs I used to sing I sing them no more (3)
There’s a great change since I was born. [chorus]

4. Place I used to go I go there no more (3)
There’s a great change since I was born. [chorus]

5. My dear brother, what about you too? (3)
There’s a great change since I was born. [chorus]

The song is about being a born again, and not doing the things we used to do before. However, the song does not mention anything like “Friends I used to have, I have them no more”. Instead, it gently puts forward a request to our friends to rethink about their lives. And I strongly believe that is what we should all do. Never let go of your friends. Grasp them tightly, never letting them stray afar, and lead a life that will make them want to lead such a life too: A good Christian life.

Chp 106. A blessed long distance relationship

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. That’s what two people in love experience all the time. This is a special post dedicated to all of us who are in a relationship, especially a long distance one.

Long distance relationships are complicated. There need to be a great amount of understanding among the couples in such a relationship. Some of the more common issues I’ve heard are: [The names are entirely fictional and any resemblance to real people is completely coincidental].

John calls up his girlfriend Mary and tells her that he’s going out with a friend and colleague, Jenny, for tea. Mary tells him that it’s okay and that he need not inform her about all these “silly things”. So the next time Jenny invites John for tea again, he didn’t tell Mary. At the teashop, Mary’s friend Teresa saw John and Jenny together, and calls up Mary immediately. Mary then calls up John and scolds him for not telling her about them and accuses him of two-timing her and being a flirt, and eventually dumps him.

Linda and Matt are deeply in love with each other. Linda told Matt “Let us be honest with each other and tell each other everything” to which Matt obediently said yes. Later on, Matt heard from the grape vine that Linda went out for a movie with her ex-boyfriend Pete. Matt called her up and asked “Why didn’t you tell me you went out for a movie with him? I thought you said we must tell each other everything?” to which Linda replied, “How can you expect me to tell you everything? For the love of God, give me some space here! I can’t take it anymore, you are suffocating me” and with that she hung up, broke up with him and got back together with Pete.

Stacy called up the love of her love Nick, “Darling, a dear dear old friend of mine from School and College days has just landed in my city. I am so excited to meet him and catch up with old times. We are going to…” Nick rudely interrupted,
“Him? You mean it’s a guy?”
“Uhhh.. yeah… what’s wrong?”
“Tell me this, are you sleeping with him? Are you? Are you?”
“Huh???”
*click*

And then there are those dudes who call up their long distance girlfriends every minute, wanting to know where they are and who they are with. A boyfriend concerned about his girl is cute, but inquisitiveness to this level is the heights of insecurity.

Looking at the above four cases, it would be easy for any outside onlooker to comment that they never loved each other. But these are actual problems that occur between two people in a long distance relationship who love each other dearly. Most of us are an insecure lot, especially when we cannot see our loved one with our own eyes and must rely on what he/she tells us.

And that is what long distance relationships bring: one of the greatest ironies of Love. For the more we love somebody, the more we are supposed to trust that person. But instead, for most of us, the more we love somebody, the more possessive and jealous we get! Ironic indeed. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why many renowned psychologists do not believe in a thing called Love.

And sometimes, even short distance relationships do not work out if there is no trust. Is there any such thing as a long distance and a short distance relationship? Yup indeed there is. And that is our relationship with God. Our Lord is high up there in Heaven and in our hearts at the same time. And in His case, the same rules apply: If there is no trust and faith, our relationship with God will falter eventually.

How similar is a long distance relationship with God and our loved one? Very similar. Some of us cheat on our long distance girlfriend/boyfriend by flirting or sleeping with somebody else, things that our loved one would definitely not allow. Similarly, we cheat on God by doing things that He would not allow, like stealing, accepting bribes, blaspheming the Word of God etc.

Another similarity: Don’t you enjoy talking with your long distance boyfriend/girlfriend over the phone? You talk to each other for hours, unproductive as it may be, talking about anything ranging from your neighbor’s cat to a funny incident that happened at the Mall. Likewise, in our long distance relationship with God, we (should) enjoy talking to Him, praying whenever we feel like, not just to ask Him for favors but just to have a chat with Him, thanking Him for everything that He did for us and asking Him to keep protecting all our loved ones.

In the end, any relationships, especially long distance, will have a much higher chance of working out if we ask for the good Lord’s blessings. Love is one of God’s greatest gifts to Mankind. Right from loving our neighbors to loving somebody in a special way so that we may multiply and spread our seeds, they are all God’s Commands.

Many of us, influenced by M&B novels, mushy love songs and magazines like Cosmo and Vogue, tend to make the mistake of giving our all in a relationship with someone. When you give it your all, be prepared to fall down hard if the walls come crumbling down. I learnt it the hard way. But now that I have Jesus in my heart, it's funny, but all other “worldly” emotions seem to play a minor role, like those background singers in a Robbie Williams concert.

There is nothing wrong in a Christian youth to fall in love, but we must be careful about the way we love somebody. Do we love somebody so much that we sometimes fail to think about anything else, including Jesus? Do you think God would appreciate what you do with your loved one? Is it a healthy relationship? These are just some of the few questions we need to ask ourselves. I consider myself extremely lucky to be in a relationship with someone who understands why neither of us can give it our all in our relationship.

Don’t get me wrong, by saying that we must not give it our all, I do not mean we are not serious with each other. Ofcourse we should be serious with someone we love, but always let the Love of our Almighty Father have a higher priority than the love for any mortals.

And at the end of the day, be it a long distance relationship or “short distance”, always pray for your loved one. Pray for him/her and for Almighty Lord’s abundant blessings, and if it is truly His wish, everything will work out perfectly for the two of you.

Praise be the Lord.