Reflections

"This is a piece that came to me at the peak of my ministry in school, being the leader of a growing campus fellowship. Things were blooming and radiant, and God opened my eyes to see the greatest folly of great men-PRIDE." de_destined

‘Bravo, Bravo, Bravo’, some shouted,
‘Excellent, Brilliant, Beautiful’, hailed the rest,
‘Is that meant for me?’, inquired the hailed,
Right there and then his chest heaved,
Like a ball just slightly inflated,
Like flour acted upon by yeast,
He assumed a more pronounced look,
Looking straight ahead like the world conqueror,
The look of him ready to fall.

‘Ha, ha, ha’, laughed the adversary,
‘Ho, ho, ho’, joined the emissaries,
Another fall to hardeningly break to pieces,
Beholding with passionate wickedness,
Subtly guiding the minds of the hailers,
Expectantly waiting to hear the crash,
The adversary awaits like a patient dog,
Beaming with radiance and expectation,
Beholding he like a tree to be felled,
Knowing he has the joker which never fails-
Pride precedes a fall.

‘Mercy, Mercy, Mercy’, cried the advocate,
‘Behold he’s your handiwork’, said He again,
With a look of compassion upon His face,
Pain hiding just underneath the surface,
Heart pleading for a change of focus,
‘Look to the mountains for help’, He moaned,
But a part of Him kept consoling Him,
Reminding Him of a dog about to wander,
Its ears are deafened against the master’s whistle,
Slowly the thought found expression in Him,
Another fall might soon be witnessed,
With little He can do about it,
This made Him remember the fact that-
Pride precedes a fall.

The hailed, the adversary and the advocate,
All characters in a simple drama,
A drama that happens all the time,
Practically every-time at every place,
The hailed ignorant of his doom,
The adversary aware of his near victory,
The advocate never losing hope at all,
But The One sits on the throne and watches,
Like a viewer beholding a tragic opera,
Knowing the hailed dictates the fate of the drama,
Silently watching and waiting for the end,
A silent thought nudges His own heart too-
Pride precedes a fall.

Nightingale

"It was a trying moment, a time when the presence of another healer would have made all the difference. Then, she surfaced! I’ll never forget that period in my life. She was an answer to my prayer. She still is." de_destined


It sat on a tree,
The characteristic posture of all birds,
But there’s a difference in the perch,
As if it was master of the others,
Others while they strive and struggle,
Each trying to outsmart the other,
All aiming towards impressing the others,
It wore a look of confidence,
As if in a world of its own,
Knowing all it takes is a whistle,
And all will know it’s the smartest.

The voice so sharp and firm,
Yet having so breathtaking an effect,
Bringing about an atmosphere of awe,
While applying soothe to those in need,
The music so distinct,
Discernible even in the midst of many,
From the crowd standing out,
With confidence no need to force,
Naturally flowing with gestures of life,
All harmony tuned to one frequency,
Giving meaning to the lives of all.

At a time most needed you came,
Almost like an answer to a prayer,
In days transforming the lives of many,
Left untouched for many a year,
The words rolling from the source,
Endlessly pouring like a balm,
Destined to soothe the pains of all.
Valued more than gold,
Priced more than rubies,
Worth highly inestimable,
Night-in-gale.

Perch

"I wrote this piece at a time in my life when I had started to ask questions about my person, I felt out of place, like I did not belong, but then God showed me that ‘the depth of your past is an indication of the zenith of your future’. The story about the bird, it’s real!" de_destined


The beginning of yet another day,
The sun just about rising from the horizon,
The breeze gently caressing the trees,
The only sound the chirping of birds,
Likely dishing out instruction to their babes,
All was cool and all was beautiful,
Especially the crow of the father cock,
Loudly and boldly declaring for the world to hear:
It’s the beginning of yet another day.

It’s also the hour of prayer,
While many still rolled and turned in bed,
Others hoping the cock’s crow were a dream,
But of course many others wide awake,
Knowing the day would be a full one,
Wisely lay all at The Mater’s feet,
Believing it was the wisest action to take.
I had joined the insignificant number of people,
Who believe a prayer-less day means vanity,
I launched out to speak with The Expert,
Relishing in the wonderful beauty of nature,
But while in the middle of prayer,
My eyes fell on and beheld,
A spectacle that looked out of place,
Instinctively I paused to look,
Standing so still and attentive,
My reaction felt so funny to me,
And I simply remembered the fact that,
It’s meant to be the hour of prayer.

The spectacle, how could I forget?
Standing all alone amidst the greenery,
Other trees swinging to and fro,
Birds singing in them in carols,
Was a tree without a single leaf,
With branches all dry and piney,
The kind a food-seller would rejoice over,
Almost the image of many men,
With arms extending all around,
But all destined with only one leg,
It was a spectacle to behold,
Still realizing it’s a time to pray,
Curiosity made me look beyond the façade,
And what I saw made me ruminate,
That spectacle, how could I forget.

It sat and looked all around,
Perch, a better description of the posture,
So still and silent and broody,
So determined a look for a bird,
Perched on the tree that stood alone,
As if their destinies were linked,
More like the rejected and the outcast,
It must have felt all alone in the world,
But the alone-ness was not the attraction,
It was the look of absolute determination,
As if saying, “You’ll all be proven wrong”,
It sat and probably observed the wind,
Almost blending in with the tree,
But I knew it had chosen the right spot,
A place that would bring the greatest surprise,
It must have had the mind of philosophy,
And it must have nurtured a feeling at heart,
‘A surprise entry never fails’,
While I still looked on and beheld,
It sat and looked all around.

All through the day I wondered,
Having laid my anxiety before Him,
The perching bird always coming to mind,
No matter how hard I tried,
The thought kept surfacing again,
Trying to correlate what I saw,
A beautiful scene, yet hard to feel,
Then suddenly it hit me,
At a time I least expected,
I clearly saw me in the bird,
My life in a drama before my eyes,
So many others having the same storyline,
A small smile brought radiance to me,
Knowing the latter part was the best,
Fully aware that whatever it looks like,
Tomorrow still holds the great promises,
Like a little girl nudging her mother,
A quiet thought brought smiles to my face,
Just as I finished praying earlier on,
The bird left the position of perch,
Having considered and carefully observed,
Other birds watched in great amazement,
As the bird arose and flew higher above.

Emotions

"I spoke with others, counseled many to joy, but even then, I had no-one to bare my mind to –but God." de_destined

He looked at her and felt so happy,
Who on earth could ever have imagined,
That somebody beaming now with joy,
An hour ago was talking about suicide,
But then he remembered the many others,
Who at one time were angry at life,
Almost desperate to expire their session,
Blaming fate for all their travails,
But after spending some time with him,
Reason is restored back unto them,
Like a toy momentarily snatched away,
From the hands of an obedient girl,
As if the toy had been newly restored,
How many he failed to recall,
For quite a number they had been,
All having a dilemma same in nature,
Emotions shattered altogether.

Unconsciously lapsing into the land of dreams,
He saw himself in the midst of flowers,
Himself awarded the position of the bee,
Quietly humming a buzzy tune,
Trying to find which flower to suck,
Beautiful and inviting, the flowers all looked,
He felt like the choice was all his own,
But a big little problem presented itself,
The sweetest nectar was not his target,
His senses tended towards the best.
And the flowers ignorant of his predicament,
Beholding the bee as the man of the day,
All portrayed themselves in a fashionable way,
Wanting to bag the prize of prizes.
Determinedly he drifted rightward,
Believing to have recognized the best,
At the very verge of necting the flower,
A sound brought him back to reality.


Gently but purposefully it repeated itself,
It was the tapping of hand on wood,
A gentle knock at his very door,
With a shake of his head he arose,
A song silently forming in his mind,
“Helpless helper”, the title of the song,
Opening the door, he found another,
The look of who tells the entire story,
Concern made him reach out and he knew,
It’s going to be another session of counsel,
His instincts readily reached out to his Source,
A word of prayer crossing his mind,
And then he silently asked The Master,
“Is there really a helper for helpers?”
Following the victim of emotion and distraught,
The very latest in his list of clients,
Knowing she’ll soon beam with joy,
After having listened to the comforter,
As he is known and called by all.
Seeing her off some moments later,
His expectations not being cut off,
He almost busted a question that flashed through his mind,
“How would it be if you were to know,
How many fragments my own emotion is?”