Are we grateful enough for whatever life we have been blessed with? Often, when troubles seem to be overwhelming, we end up afraid of the ‘monster inside the head’ which looms larger than life. The clouds seem darker, the whole world shrinks to a single pint of pain and we sink easily. Two incidents have perturbed me in the recent past. News about the suicides of two brilliant girls, leaving devastations in their wake. Both were adored children of their respective set of parents. Excellent academically, loved by everyone, no indication of any trauma. Just one unimaginable phone-call.

Shaking in grief, I ended up speaking to my own daughters about the deepest fears of parents. It does not matter what the trouble is, we are there for you. Nothing matters, more than your smiles. Stay happy and healthy. We shall overcome together. Realize that our lives are your safety nets and we shall love you unconditionally. It is true, parents tend to be harsh when it comes to discipline at times. But limits are drawn for your own good, mostly. I write mostly, because parents are fallible creatures too. We make our decisions based on whatever experiences we have garnered in our lives. But whether it is Iceland or Australia, irrespective of the language we speak, the colour of our skins, the god we believe in, there is a common factor which binds us together. You : the children. You matter.

Maybe we are at fault, trying to protect you always from life and its troubles. Tribulations strengthen the spiritual muscles. Even the protection is triggered by not wanting you to get hurt. My mother still prays ( and I tell her it is wrong) ‘Give the sickness of my children to me.’ I tell her, ‘Amma, pray that all stay healthy, including you.’ But now, as the journey moves close to autumn, I find myself contemplating about her attitude. And I can see why she prays like that. What she is saying in truth: ‘Let the pain be mine, not theirs. Let the cross be mine, give them the crown.’ That is the way of love, usually.

For any child thinking of ending it all, please stop for a moment. Pick that phone. Reach out. The monster in the head is imaginary. Your parents are not supporting the monsters. They care for your life. Just hold on and call them. We shall overcome together. As always.

The Magnificat

The most powerful hymn of praise, Luke 1:46-55 is a blessed canticle of glory.

‘My soul glorifies the Lord…The Almighty works marvels for me…He raises the lowly…’

During the last three years, three books came my way, with words from the Holy Bible: like flowers in a meadow.

After putting inĀ  two years’ work- which included studying the Lord’s Book in two languages- one project got stymied unexpectedly. It distressed me since I had done it as a labor of love. Translating almost 400 pages is not a joke, trust me! But it died a somewhat unnatural death and made me embittered. I lashed around and complained to the Missionary Sister who is like my own sister.

‘Forgive, and let go’, said the wise woman, ‘this is a lesson for your betterment.’

I raged on; unwilling to accept the waste of more than 500 hours of grueling effort.

‘Something better lies ahead…just have faith,’she intoned gently.

Since she also lovingly fed me home cooked tapioca and fish curry, I succumbed willingly to that promise.


Two other books have been completed with His Grace. Both books, by another gifted author, happen to be based on the Holy Bible! And this time, I have been thanked for my effort and not derided.

So with tears, I submit those two offerings of love before the non judging Lord who smiles at me with compassion.

‘Daughter,’ saith He, ‘What do you think brought my Word back to you miraculously?’

I recite the Magnificat in reply. On my knees, my head bowed:

‘He fills the starving with good things…

The Almighty works marvels for me

Holy His name!’