Santhosh's ramblings

While travelling recently, someone showed us a place where a storm had struck, destroying everything in its path. They shared how life has now returned to normal.     In recent months, we’ve heard of many tornadoes wreaking havoc across nations, displacing millions and challenging lives. A few weeks later, life begins limping back to semi-normal again. Yet, for those who have endured such devastation, life will likely never feel fully normal. The pain, grief, and loss linger, reshaping their world.   Still, the grass grows back. Buildings are rebuilt. People return, and life starts anew. For a season, the scars of destruction remain visible. Isn’t this true of our lives as well?  Tornadoes—unexpected crises—strike us, leaving destruction and chaos in their wake. Over time, life slowly regains a semblance of normalcy, but we realize it’s okay to live with things not being entirely okay.     A tornado is a narrow, violently rotating column of air th...

I am just back and recovering (well) from a week of travel. It was physically tiring but emotionally and spiritually uplifting. The trip was to be together for five days as a big group (60-plus people) to plan, have fellowship, and get to know each other. By the end, we had become an “ intergenerational connected community .” It was intergenerational because we had Gen Zs, the majority of Gen Ys, some Gen Xs, a few Baby Boomers, and one or two Silent Gens (who weren’t too silent, but  😊 ).    We were connected by one purpose – to be a channel of “Healing and Witness to God’s love” in every community and nation. That common purpose knitted us together, even though we were from different generations. (Is this not what the world needs today, too?)   Carl R. Trueman reminds us in his book:  “The stories the modern world tells us are powerful: the future-oriented promise of science, the technology that privileges the young, the materialistic paradise offered ...

Travelling these days has become a bit of a mental workout, mostly due to my overthinking. I’m still in the middle of a trip, but let me share some reflections from my ongoing journey.   It started with an airport announcement: “Flight delayed due to technical issues.” Two keywords – ‘delay’ and ‘technical issues’ - set my mind on a whirlwind of overthinking.  Delay meant potential FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) from the conference’s first day. Maybe even a MOMO - Mystery Of Missing Out. What if I missed the 1st day, and no one noticed that I was not even there? That is more intense than FOMO. (I don’t think I had MOMO at that time   ). But then I realized: why not embrace JOMO (Joy of Missing Out)? The conference would continue without me just fine—I’m not that indispensable!   Technical issues raised bigger concerns. My mind spun tales of in-air catastrophes and set off a FOA (Fear of Accidents) and FOD (Fear of Death). These aren’t fears I like to think about, b...

This year, over 60 nations held elections, including the so-called “mother of democracies” and “mother of liberty.” The recent election that concluded yesterday was closely watched worldwide. The spectacle was, in many ways, bewildering. Each context brought unique peculiarities, but common themes seemed to surface globally.    The pre-election period was saturated with rhetoric, often illogical. In our "post-scientific" era, even well-established scientific truths—whether about COVID-19, fluoride in water, or climate change—were branded as fabrications or propaganda orchestrated by “deep states” or opposition groups. Historical facts, too, were dismissed as myths or manipulations from hidden agendas.    This rhetoric stems from our “post-truth” culture, echoing the age-old question, “What is truth?” Whoever can speak with confidence, irrespective of evidence, is deemed truthful. Truth is whatever one can convincingly sell.   Linked to this is the emergence of “...

Yesterday, we attended a sacred classical music concert—or can I even call it a concert? It felt ethereal and heavenly and brought tears to my eyes. I asked myself, why these tears? Three reasons came to mind. Nostalgia played a part, having grown up with choir music, stirring memories of the past—a feeling of loss mingled with joy. But beyond that, there was a lifting of my soul in the present, something that defies easy explanation. And then, a sense of hope—a reassurance, despite the confusion in my heart and around me, that someone is indeed in control. The words of the music amplified this feeling.   "Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy. Music is the electrical soil in which the spirit lives, thinks and invents." Beethoven.  Is it that my ears long for such higher, soul-lifting music?   We headed to a bustling restaurant where loud rap music filled the air. I enjoy rap, but amid the young crowd, I felt a bit out of place. The rhythm was enjoya...

Four journeys over the last two to three weeks and some ramblings on life!   Journey One – Journey with a Bird   About three weeks back, we found a pigeon laying an egg and sitting on it in a nest built in an empty pot on our balcony. Both of us, along with our helper, have always had a hate-hate relationship with pigeons. The reason was simple: they dirtied the veranda, the clothes hanging out to dry, and the whole place. I would constantly wave my hands and shout every time I went out, and our helper would always curse and complain!   But suddenly, our posture changed from hate-hate to hate-tolerance, and maybe even a hint of tolerance-love deep in our hearts. The helper still complained but kept a safe distance to avoid disturbing the pigeon and the egg. I would walk in and out, intentionally ignoring the nest and the pigeon. Children of family friends would come and go, gushing over the nest and the egg.   If I could talk to the pigeon and understand her heart, I...