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Heroes in my Family !!

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She was strong; She was courageous; She was ruthless in her arguments; She never minced words; She would tell it on your face; She never had another face; She was a true Christian; She was Brilliant; She was Beautiful;

She was Mary !!

She was my Chithee.

She was undoubtedly the bravest women in my life like my Ammachi.

She flew away into the Heavens, and its a week already today.

There I stood in front of the Mortuary, screaming for her to come back. But she was beyond me.

She was beyond the ugliness of the world. She was beyond the pain. She was beyond the dirtiness of the Caterpillar; She was the beauty of the Butterfly.

We swallowed the screams, as they transformed into bitter sobs.

This time, we did not have eyes that looked at us in embarrassment.

We had wet eyes who sobbed with us with grief flooding our hearts.

We grieved with families who lost their loved ones, in the same terrible accident.

An accident, that should have been a bad dream. A dream which we would have laughed about the next morning.

An accident that crushed our laughter and little joys.

An accident that shattered our strength and questioned our faith.

There lay the car, disfigured and beyond recognition, so was our little heroes.

They gave us the Chilled Body, She weighed like a new-born baby.

She lay amidst the shrieking noise, so oblivious of our now giant screams, like she did not like it.

She would not have liked ‘the crying’ bit, if she was alive. She never like petty tears and drama anyway.

Her face was battered by the pain of the final moments of her life. We were not allowed to see much of her by rule. But her face was enough for us.

A fragile face I never knew. A kind grace that settled in her cheeks, her subtle humour that filled her mouth and the sacred faith of Jesus Christ that reflected in her eyes.

Oh Mary !! The Darling Daughter, the Pride of my Forefathers;

Has your faith sustained you? Did you walk those heavenly gates in golden robe and touch the face of Jesus Christ. It looks so for me.

You lived and rested in peace.

We tucked her safely in the land of our forefathers;  her bossy body lay there so authoritatively next to her Father. Like she would have wanted it to be. Like her father would have wanted it to be.

The proud Father-daughter duo singing together, holding hands in heaven.

As we returned back home, her sweet home, the home she toiled for, our hearts blossomed. It stood there as a testimony to the amazing life she lived with her boys. Her wonderful husband and precious Sons.

Oh Mary !! Your damp towel and the nightdress are waiting for you. You left them unwashed with the hope that you will return home tonight.

Oh Mary !! Your beautiful hairclips and perfumes are waiting to adorn you along with the pattu sarees. You would have looked gorgeous in them.

Oh Mary !! Where have you gone??

Oh Mary !! When will you take us there??

Oh Precious Mary, congratulations on finishing your race victoriously today.

Oh Kind Mary, my eyes swelled with pride when your colleagues spoke of your clean hands and pure heart. Wow, what a blessing to be a part of this family and to be raised by the strongest women in town.

Oh Dear Mary, thank yotu for teaching us that nothing really matters. Not this money, not this house, not the jobs we hold or the salaries we pocket. Nothing is pleasing in God’s sight except how good and nice we live.

The only downside of being a part of this great family is, none of them bother to say their final goodbyes. They keep you guessing that they will return home each night. Perhaps that is true. We never part I believe.  And we will regroup again at Jesus Feet in heaven. No earthly goodbyes; only heavenly hugs and memories guaranteed.

Oh Beautiful Mary, thank you for asking us to be prepared for the final day of our lives everyday, and put up our best smile forward for we do not know what will happen the next minute.

Oh Darling Mary, thank you for hoping not in this world, but for the eternal life at Jesus Feet.

Oh my Mary Chithee, I miss you much more than you were alive. I have never told you, but I realised through those muddy tears in front of the mortuary, how much I Loved You. Laughter can be faked but my pain torn tears have never been this real. Appa knows it better. If not for it, I wouldn’t be a transformed person today. I want to be transformed to a better person like you. Like my Mary Chithee. A hero in life and in death. A hero at he Lord’s home.

Oh Blessed Mary;

God be with you till we meet again;
Keep love’s banner floating o’er you,
Strike death’s threatening wave before you;
God be with you till we meet again at Jesus feet.

Pris.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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What do I dedicate to thee, Dear Appa ?!

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“Margarita Mamun dedicating her Olympic Gold to her Father who died just days after her Glory” was one of the best videos I saw today.

The emotions of Ms Mamun warmed my heart. It felt good. Her dad in heaven sure must have rejoiced.

I can never complain that I did not have enough time to dedicate a glory to my father.

I spent full 30 years with him, enough time to make him feel proud of me a hundred times. But I never did. He never complained. But I never did. But again he never expected.

I never studied well, to dedicate Scholarships to my Appa.

I never fared in Sports to dedicate Gold Medals to my Appa.

I never ever did anything that would bring him any glory.

For all that I did to him, he graced me with such love and faith , that will shame me to my grave. Yes, that’s the word. He gave me the greatest gift a Dad could ever give. He believed in me.

He loved me so much, that even after his passing away, I live only for his love.

His love is interwoven in my nerves, in the core of my heart. Such extraordinary love for a commoner like me. I was a commoner in my eyes, but for Appa I was his world.

If not for my Father. If not for that love and faith that did not expect any dedications or honours or the least a mention of his Child’s greatness, I would have been nothing today.

But I will Appa, I will dedicate.

Dedicate, few moments of Kindness that you always inspired me to.

Dedicate few hours of Prayers of Thankfulness that you always practised.

Dedicate some forgiveness that you would love to see me do.

Dedicate a lifetime of humbleness that defined you.

For you were a Father who accumulated a lot of wealth for me. Wealth called Love,  simplicity and Education.

You took pride in a very simple disorganised little girl for her imperfections.

You picked up the broken pieces of your failed daughter and moulded her to be the woman she is today. You did not give a chance to look out for Inspiration. You were the Inspiration within me.

You looked through an Imperfect Soul and rejoiced in it instead of ridicule.

I was just a little Glorified Nothingness, that you adored.

Probably that’s all I needed to survive.

And that gave me a little more confidence to live and succeed.

Finally, I will dedicate my Motherhood to you. I will try and be the father like you.

And will leave footprints in Ved’s life, just as you did in mine, Footprints of love and grace.

We will make every small moment count in glory and dedicate our well spent life to you.

Pris,

A little Boy’s Amma.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Butterfly in my Soul !!

The Metamorphosis, the complex yet the most beautiful transformation from time unknown is not just fr the Beautiful Butterflies. 

No matter how ugly, no matter the storm, by the end of it all the caterpillar sheds every negativity and transforms into one of Gods biggest miracle, the Butterly. 

And that Butterfly in my soul, is my littlest guy in my world, my Ved. 

He just outsmarted me. In my struggle, in my nights, in my loss, he outsmarted me every second of my life. 

The days I thought it was all over, 

The 1st night I struggled to slept without a Father, 

The minutes I cried like a 5yr girl searching for his shoulder, 

I never knew there was a Butterfly brewing inside of me. 

Just when I the Caterprillar was about to give  up; I gave birth to a Butterfly. 

As I sat at my fathers coffin, as I was about to fail, a Butterful inside me was preparing to fly.

It was his Heartbeat. The first ever ‘Soul Stirring Musical’ I have heard. A reminder of a beautiful transformation I am about to witness. 

When words failed me, when the world failed around me, music gently whispered. His heartbeat whispered hope for a future full of laughter. 

Each night I would replay that Musical, and I loved to add a face to it. 

A face I imagined, made of a thousand Lillies, with the eyes of my Father. 

Sprinkled with his grace and dipped in his mercy, I visioned his baby face.

The face I would like to be the final memory of my life, the face I want to see and keep seeing until I call it quits. 

Today, after all those 9 months of lessons and trials and transformations, here lies the most Beautiful Butterfly in my lap, with every second reminding me, if not for the pain, there would never be a miracle. 

His eyes, a reminder of all the dreams of our future together. 

His wings of joy, are the confidence for me to fly high. 

His colors of beauty, paints my world so bright. 

His smile that helped me heal inside out. 

And I believe for each of us there is a transformation waiting. For some it happens at a funeral service, for others in the labor room, for few on the graduation day and others at the altar. 

Quiet a few amoung us are like the Butterfly literally, they can’t see their own beauty and grace while everyone else is in awe of their beauty. 

Just Like the butterflies, we don’t count months, we treasure only moments, every moment is a memory. Precious unperishable memory. 

Has anyone in History ever witnessed a Butterfly crawling back to his cocoon?

Neither did we and never will we. 

The journey just got a bit more brighter, prettier, colorful and wonderful just like the little baby Butterfly in my soul. 

Pris, 

a little boy’s amma.