Letters to few people and few things and a ghost....

1. Letter to my mate Taylor Swift

Dear  Taylor Swift,

Hi Taylor, I just want to let you know that you inspire me. You are so down-to-earth, genuine and beautiful, so humble and not cocky at all.  You show me how normal girls can achieve big things in life. It’s literally impossible for anyone to be sweeter than you. Hope you get all the happiness you deserve. I love you to the moon and back...XOXO

2. Letter to  auto driver who takes me to college everyday,

Dear Bhaiya,

Bhaiya, though I might not always tell you, I want to thank you for charging me just 80 rupees everyday from my home to college. Y’know if I approach any other auto driver, they would charge me 120 rupees..and that would be rather hard on my wallet…and Bhaiya, I think you’re nice because you don’t try to start conversations with me like…”Where are you from?...Are you from China…blah blah..” like other annoying autodrivers. You just come on time and quietly drops me to college. So, thank you Bhaiya.

3. Letter to alcohol ( includes all kinds..beer, wine, whiskey, rum, zawlaidi etc.)

Dear Alcohol,

I hate you so much. I lost loved ones because of you. I wish you never existed. I know some people like you a lot, even my very own friends  because you give them pleasure for a while, but they should know you’re upto no good and you cause them more harm than good...I mean look at their puffy face and fat plus sized belly!!

4. Letter to grey coloured fur coat from Lifestyle that costs 4999 INR

 Dear  Grey Coloured Fur Coat from Lifestyle that costs 4999 INR,

I like you so much. You are exactly the coat I was wearing when I was day dreaming myself to be the protagonist of a romantic movie during my French lecture. Your texture, your colour, the way I fit perfectly inside you, the way you keep me so snuggly warm..that moment I first laid eyes on you, I wanted you to mine. But alas!! You are too expensive. I’m already broke and it’s only the beginning of the month. So, dear grey coloured fur coat from Lifestyle that costs 4999 rupees, perhaps I’ll come back for you when they put you up for sale in January 2013. Sigh!! 

5. Letter to the movie " Shawshank Redemption"

Dear  movie Shawshank Redemption,

Where were you all those years? I can’t believe I just watched you today. You’re like one of the best movies I’ve ever seen!

6. Letter to my friend Peka Ralte, who I haven't spoken to for weeks because he pretended to be modest and didn't call on my birthday

Dear ex best friend Peka Ralte,

You and I aren’t friends anymore!!!

7. Letter to stupid guy on  3rd floor of my building who urinates on my clothes hung on 2nd floor (sorry I don't have his picture)

Dear stupid guy on 3^rd floor  who was urinating on the clothes I hung yesterday,

GET SOME CIVIC SENSE!!!

8. Letter to white-clad ghost girl with super long black hair that's all tangled and stuff from almost every horror movie I've seen

Dear white clad long haired ghost girl,

Please scare my brother Bruce so that he'd get so scared to come home alone so late at night from his 'nula rim'. Please walk out of my neighbours television and scare him because his T.V is always on, in full volume and makes it difficult for me to concentrate on my work sometimes. Just scare him. Just don't kill him like you did in the movies.

9. Letter to my dear cousin Apuii

My dear cousin Apuii,

I’m  keeping your picture here, just like that!!!

OMG..This is totally weird!!

I don’t usually put up very personal issues on my blog, nor do I write about my silly love ramblings, but I felt the need to write this.

Last week, since my exams were over I thought I’d celebrate by binging on peanut butter and starting a new serial. My friend Aditya gave me two seasons of Family Guy. I watched two episodes. I also watched Nanny McPhee Returns.

Then, I switched off the lights and went off to bed.

Very soon, I slowly drift into a fairly light sleep and eventually entered the unconscious realm of dreams.

I was walking along some deserted road which I really don't know where. All I could remember seeing was few airplanes streaking across the sky. Some were flying just few feet above the ground. The airplanes were like the ones from the movie Pearl Harbour.  

Then from a far distance, I saw a frail silhoutte, masculine figure  approaching me. It was like grey and blurry all around me and it seemed like the only thing I could feel or see was that man who was approaching me. He gets closer and closer and the next thing I remember was that we were kissing (ewww!!!). It wasn't one of those gross, lust drenching, open mouth tongue twisted kinda kiss. It was more of a warm, friendly Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan kiss like in the end of the movie You've Got Mail. Then, I saw his face. I saw it clearly.

 I knew him!!!

I woke up the next morning. It still felt so real.

The guy in my dream!! I know him. He is a guy I hardly spoke to or interact with even though we're from the same social circle. I might’ve spoken to him once or twice in church. But I swear  he never  crossed my mind, not even once in my entire life. I don’t even like him nor do I dislike him either. He is just a random guy whom I barely even know.

But how is it possible that in my dream, I pictured him so perfectly? Why did some random guy appear in my dream all of a sudden, and what's with all the airplanes? Did he perform some black magic on me... perhaps because he got a crush on me? No, he can't be that weird.. and I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a crush on me.

It’s insane.

So, with troubled thoughts I googled and did my little research on dreams. Below is the scientific or psychological definition of dreams from a scientific journal I found on the net:-

“Dreaming is defined as the subjective experience of imaginary images, sounds/voices, thoughts or sensations during sleep. Dreams represent a world of imagery in which our darkest fears, deepest secrets, and  most passionate fantasies break out from the unconscious mind and only at this time become present to our own consciousness.”

LOL!! I guess I’ll have to contradict the scientific explanation because now I clearly do not have passionate fantasies for this guy, not in my conscious mind, nor will I ever!!

I even met him the other day, on a sunday, after all the dream-kissing thingy. If it weren't for the dream, I would’ve hardly noticed his presence.

But, this time I did notice him and everytime I was looking at him, unintentionally of course, he was always..always looking back at me and it was way too weird!!

Understanding the male species.......

Every girl had that dream of finding that romeo, that knight in shining armour coming in a white horse and rescueing her from the bad guy. The tricky part is that in fairy tales, there is a very clear cut physical distinction between the handsome prince and the bad guy. While the prince looked cute and charming with a sword and his white horse, the villain or the bad guy had a very long face and evil looks and you can easily spot them. But then you grow up and you realise this is not really the case, because the bad guy is not so easy to spot anymore because in real life he looks cute and charming, he makes you laugh and he got the most beautiful eyes. Unlike fairy tales, the bad guy doesn’t hold you hostage in some tower in the forest. Instead he buys you flowers and chocolates. He holds you and tells you he’d love you forever, but break your heart in the end. But that’s not my point, and this post is not about how painful it is when a boy hurts a girl, no.

After years of being in the dating world observing and trying to understand the male counterparts, I finally knew that the perfect guy do not exist. This jarring realisation is not instigated by any recent events, but just an outcome of a long period of meticulous observation and indepth research on the so-called mysterious (as they like to think so themselves) male species.

 First of all, the qualities I like most about men is their simplistic nature. It’s funny how they can manage all their stuffs in a small handbag when I needed two big size luggages.

Just so you girls might wanna know, these simplistic beings come in different packages. I thought it might be easier to track whether the guy is really the charming prince or the villain in disguise if you take note of these points, because that would be like settling for Jacob when you actually want Edward Cullen.

Now, these are the basic four categories of men:

The Sport : These are easy to spot. They usually wear a jersey of their favourite team, habitually found parked on a sofa with few bottles of beer and always engrossed in one sport game or the other. He might often lie to you saying he’s going to work, when he’s actually going to a sports bar. He actually have a very good heart, but try to engage him into a conversation during his favourite game. You’ll fail miserably.

The Couch Potato : Curling up all day long on the sofa, with remote in hand, beer and surfing channels. You'll have a hard time getting him out of the couch. Don't even think about getting him to help in household chores. He could be sweet. But you don’t want a lazy boyfriend.

The Scientist : You all know this guy. The boring, studious, job and career oriented nerds and geeks! These men love their jobs more than their wives.

The Show off : Constantly finds ways to demonstrate his physical prowess. They accomplish this by twisting open food jar lids, showing off abs and muscles, arm wrestling with friends, bragging about his latest iphone, his pretty girlfriend  and so on. Showoffs need constant praise and reassurance. An association with this category also requires patience.

So, like I said, where is the perfect guy? :-)

But girls! Although you might not find that perfect guy, if he’s got a good heart and he makes you really really happy, though he might not be perfect,  he could be perfect for you. After all, your happiness is all that matters.

Note:  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental :-)

Food for thought....

There is a story behind every person, on why they are the way they are. Think before you made snide remarks about others, because words can be painful and can destroy relationships and leave a scar. Matthew 7:1-6  clearly states, “Do not judge, or you will be judged. For in the same way you judge others you will be judged and with the measure you use it will be measured to you”.

So,the next time you're about to boil over and insensibly bargain a rickshaw puller for charging you a little extra, think about how the poor guy must’ve had a really rough year, supporting his five children with a meagre 400 rupees a day. Think about how he must have had a terrible day, working under the scorching sun despite being sick and that he must be needing the money so much more than you do.

Before you call that pregnant lady who works  at the bank rude and pretentious, does it ever occur to you that she might just be having a bad day, perhaps financial problems, some issues with her family, a drunken husband maybe or whatever reason that cease her to smile. It was just your luck that you caught her at that time she was in a crappy mood. She might not always be like that.

Before you chew on a juicy story about how your colleague really got fired, how that girl in your class do not wear good clothes or where someone’s boyfriend was seen after the party, before you speak, ask yourself… is it kind, is it really necessary, is it helpful or will I hurt someone ?

*Some very common wrong judgments people make :*

People make snap judgements that all night owls are lazy, pretentious and unproductive. This is not true because being a night person myself, many of my best writings are done at 2 in the morning and a recent study says that 70 percent of the scientists in America are night owls :-)

It is wrong to say that only 12 year olds listen to Taylor Swift and how people listening to her  have really no taste in music.  How does a person’s taste in music makes him any more  intelligent or define who he or she is ? :-)

It's okay to be pregnant......

She told me she was pregnant. We were both just 16. If only I knew then, what I know now, I would have told her, that it was okay to be pregnant, and how incredibly blessed she was. I can't help thinking, if only I had the right words to tell her then, things might have been different.

But like I said, we were just 16. And at 16, life was all about school, boyfriends, clothes, scholarships and getting into a good college. We thought having a baby meant losing all of it.

She was petrified  to tell her parents. The guy who got her pregnant told her to abort the baby, and that he would marry her as soon as he got a job. Then they could have another baby. I was the only support she had. We thought of telling her parents once, but we were afraid they’d throw a hissy fit, that they might even throw her out, given her dad’s status in church and community. She said she couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing them. She knew they would be broken. They were so proud of her. They were planning to send her to one of the best colleges.

 Finally, she decided to take the drastic step, which we both agreed was the best thing for her. We cried over the phone. It was a difficult decision for someone so young. How I wish I was a wiser, better friend.

If only I could go back, and tell her what I know now, I’d tell her not to be afraid and that abortion is just the easy way out for someone who doesn’t have the courage to deal with his/her own actions, and it only serves to hide the so-called embarrassment from others around you, your friends, church and the whole social community. I should've made her understand, that it was her body, and she have the right and the strength to say ‘NO’ to abortion.

I would’ve told her to talk to her parents immediately, because parents are the ones who love  you the most. They might be angry out of shock and disappointment, they might even yell at you and ask what the heck you were thinking, but they will eventually understand in time. They only wanted what is good for you, and they will love you and support you no matter how much you disappointed them. And if you ever did have the baby, they will be the one who would love your child the most.

I wish I had the wisdom to tell her how my mom had me when she was 17, and how no one,  not even my own dad, was there to love and support her. But she made it through, with a lot of strength and maturity, and never once in her life did my mom ever regret having me. And I’m so grateful to my mom for that, for giving me life.  

How I wish I’d assure her that it wasn’t going to be all roses, not until the day she heard her baby’s first cry, that simple joy of holding her child for the very first time.

If only I knew then, I’d tell her that it is okay to be pregnant, then things might have been different.

Quarter life crisis....

Being 23 is tough. You feel weird when people actually treat you like an adult, at the same time you realise you aren’t that young anymore, when you actually have to decipher your 16 year old brother’s facebook status as if it’s some kind of long lost language and you’re like “What on earth is he trying to say?” 

You spent your entire childhood with eager anticipation for your sweet 16^th birthday, and then you turn 18, which was cool because you could now get married and you get to vote and have a driving license. Then you turn 20, and then 21, which was still cool. At 22 you’re in final year college, so it’s still okay.

Then, “OUCH! “

Before you know it you’re 23 and then it’s not so cool anymore because the next year you’ll be 24 and then 25 the next, which means by the time you finish your education, get settled and establish your career, you’d be like almost 30 which is such a profound transition.

What makes it even harder is that all your friends are getting married and having kids and you are like so single that you have absolutely no clue at all who might be your future husband, you can’t even think of a single guy to whom there might be a rare probability that you'll get married to. Forget about getting married, you don’t even have a person whom you are texting on the phone who might someday be your boyfriend. So, when people ask why you're single or why you are still not married, you'd tell them how you are not really interested and how perfectly happy you are on your own but deep down, that isn't actually the case:-)

I am not usually this pessimistic but being a girl, these things occasionally do occupy your mind, quite frequently. sigh!

Some movie musings...

Apparently, I am a horror movie junkie. I love horror movies, which makes no sense considering the fact that I scream whenever someone pat my shoulder from behind and I jumped whenever I saw that scene from “The Excorcism of Emily Rose” when her friend found her with  twisted neck, lying contorted and motionless on the floor. That gave me a pretty bad scare for quite a few days.

I  love  Japanese horror, Korean too for that matter. The Hollywood horror genre has become stale, either it’s  a remake of Japanese version or totally predictable. I love how the Japanese come up with such bizzare, dark, twisted plots which do not disappoint you till the very end of the movie unlike other Hollywood versions with those jellylike hairy monsters which aren’t scary at all (Hellraiser, Nightmare on Elm street, Texas Chainsaw Massacre).

But lately every Asian horror I came across have that same white-clad, face coverd with long black haired ghost girl which I find a little disappointing. Or it maybe because I’ve seen too much of it, that  no amount of horror movie could not scare me anymore but that was until last week when I saw this movie “Noroi a.k.a The Curse” and I was like “This is it !!!”

"Noroi" is a Japanese genre one-camera documentary which made it so real that it scares you bad, very bad. I especially loved it because there is no vengeful-spirit black haired girl in sight anywhere in the movie. It’s a must-see for anyone who loves horror though some scenes might give you few sleepless nights. It’s at your own risk but it would be a shame to miss something as good as this. And now that I am writing this post in the middle of the night alone in my room, I’m starting to remember scenes which I really don’t like to remember. Might as well keep the lights on:)

Here's the trailer:-

    

.....and the creepy bad ending..

P.S- I did not see this you tube clip before posting it here:)

The tooth encounter......

I was happily enjoying my late-night cuppa noodles while watching a movie, when I bit something hard, so hard that it almost felt like my jaw bone was about to crack and my tooth dislocated. I almost jumped out of my skin when I found it was a tooth that was in my cup noodles.  At first, I was not so sure of what it was, but the reddish brown blood-like stains in the crevices sure made it look like human tooth. I felt nauseated I almost threw up on the spot. The thought of having a tooth inside your mouth, not your own, but someones else’s.  It’s totally gross you have absolutely no idea.

 I was infuriated. The fact that the product was of a brand I so loved and trusted for years made it even more disturbing. First, I thought of bombarding it on facebook  and tell the whole world not to ever buy the product again. But then, before I resorted to such bootless act, I decided to do something more clever. Morever, since I was having customer relationship management as one of the topic for  my marketing management project, I thought it would help me gain some insights.

So, I promptly picked up my phone and dialled the number that was on the package. I had to wait while they put me on hold for what seemed like forever and after they transferred my call several times, a lady answered the phone. She asked me the product detail, the number and from where I purchased the product. She asked me whether I was sure it was a tooth or could it  be something else. She said I need to confirm it first from a certified dentist that it was truly a tooth if I wanted to claim any compensation or refund. Then, I will have to mail them with a photo of that tooth, along with that confirmation from the dentist, the product details etc etc. Also, I would need to write a mail to them if I wanted to file a complaint, and that they would reimburse the shipping charge and that I would get refunds as soon as they received all formalities from me. She went on and on about what needs to be done. Since I was already having a rather hectic  schedule with my exams coming up the week ahead, I knew I wouldn't have the time to search around town for dentists who would approve my unknown human tooth. So, I decided to do them a favour by cutting the conversation by a “thank you, I will get back to you ” and then end the call. 

I knew in some places people sue for millions in such cases. I don’t really want a compensation or refund. I just want to eat tasty, hygienic noodles while watching my movie. One thing’s for sure I won’t ever buy their products again. I just hope they won't repeat such mistakes again. With such big brand like theirs, it is truly unexpected. So, I kept my phone, put my earphones back and went back to the movie, when my phone beeped, with the message,” Thank you for contacting us. Were you satisfied with the interaction? Pls reply yes or no to help us serve you better ”.

family mission statement....sort of..

Something about the movie “My Sister’s Keeper”  struck a major chord with me.The family love, the trust, the selflessness, the humility, the encouragement, the hugs, the support...I was thoroughly inspired.

I couldn't believe after all these years of incomparable love and support from my family, I had never told them how much I love them, not to anyone, not a single word about love had been uttered. That cold, heartless side of me! I thought something must be seriously wrong with me.

Then, just when I was starting to feel guilty about it, I also came to a jarring realisation that none of my family members, not even parents or siblings, had never told me to my face that they ‘LOVED’ me, like actually saying out aloud. So, it's  like a true win-win situation we have here.

I really don’t know why, but it happens with many of my friends too. Three simple words but not easy to say when it comes to a family member, even though you loved your family more than anything. It could be because we believe action speaks louder than words so there is no need to further say it out aloud, or we have taken each other for granted and we are contented assuming  that they know how much we love them. There’s a saying,”Tell your loved ones how much you love them, because you never know if there’ll be a tomorrow”. But when it comes to parents and brothers, especially brothers like mine, it gets so awkward!

The ironic part is that if  it’s a friend or your spouse or a boyfriend/girlfriend, it’s so much easier. For instance, if I’m sms-ing an old college friend, I would write something like

“Hey Melory, how r u?How’s work?Call me soon.Love you.”

That’s so easy. No awkward moment, no sweat or blood shed, both on my side and the receiver’s side.

But if I’m sms-ing my mom, I'd do something like

“Hey mom, pls send me some cash because I need to buy some books, and a little extra this month because I’m goin to Shimla because it’s snowing there and I’ve never seen a real live snow,so, please.Love you”

..and if I have to be more precise...

“Nu, naktukah poisa lo thawn rawh ka nei tawh lo. Ka hmangaih ce:-)”

Well, I think that sounds awkward and highly inappropriate!!!

So, you know what I mean:-)

I’ve seen in movies where the mother drops the teenage daughter to college and before she left gave her a kiss on the cheek with a quick,”I love you”. It's a very routine thing for them. Well, my mom and I had never had that kind of moment. Not that we do not love each other. My mom and I are like best friends. I guess it’s just that people are  different and we express our love in different ways, and it’s true many times, actions do speak louder than words!!

So, even after writing this post, I don’t know if I can ever do it...the "I love you" thing. I guess it won’t be a bad idea to try once. I'd have a good time seeing the shock and surprise faces. But for now, I’ll just keep on assuming that they know, because I believe it’s God who had planned and bind us together as a family and even if we don’t say it aloud always, I know love is ever-present, and we can all feel it, like the oil that causes friction, the cement that binds closer together and the music that brings harmony. And for the record, I like my family best when we are silly and have small fights over silly issues and then laughing about it in the end.

Some subtle love thoughts......

                     

I never believed there could be a Prince Charming, but I'm  glad he proved me so wrong.

It’s like one of those rare exhilarating, unrelenting and thrilling moments in life which you wanted to capture,  photo-frame it and hang it on your bedroom wall to relive it’s wonder over and over again

It’s like you’re completely and utterly smitten because he sort of bend the "Smart people are ugly" rule because he’s smart yet still undeniably charming, not that you'd care less even if he weren't that good looking 

It’s like that panic wave or adrenaline rush when your cell phone blows with his ringtone with his name flashing across the screen when  you least expected it

It’s like that moment you discovered he had really bad breath in the morning but it doesn’t matter anymore because nothing can make you love him less


It's like that uncontrollably delightful moment when you saw Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissing in "You've Got Mail" and you're like,"Ohhh! I know how that feels"

It’s like those times when songs like ,"Dance me to the end of love" suddenly make so much sense 


It's like that sublime anticipation, of marriage and kids and cozy nights by the fire, with  wedding pictures in quirky frames hanging on the wooden walls

Silly, indescribable thing called love.

                                                 

Earth angels

A few months back, I was travelling by Delhi metro with two heavy luggages. I would have easily hired a cab or an air conditioned car, and reach my destination with ease without being barbecued by the heat and being stormed in the cheek-by-jowl crowds. But by far the cheapest option to get to Noida from the airport happens to be the Delhi metro which seemed to be the most economically viable option for people like me.

I got down at Rajiv chowk to change lines. Unfortunately, it was four in the evening  and commuter congestion tends to surge during this rush hour. When I stepped out of the train and saw the crowd, I thought whether it was even practical to try to travel with luggages at that time of the day. There were people everywhere, they stepped on my toes and I was frustrated. I wondered why they were all in such a hurry, not even bothering about people around them. It was so packed  I could only move my head and had to move along with the crowd and find a space to keep my head and breathe. The smell was not that pleasant.

 A few grumpy looking ladies gave me that frustrated, mean stares and passing snide remarks as if they were saying,”You have parked your luggage in my place”, or,”Get your friggin suitcase outta my way” and this further soared my accumulated anger. There were a few aggressive lurkheads, pushing violently from the back, shouting and angry about who-knows-what. I tried hard to ignore them. It’s so hard to be nice sometimes. I was having a bad day.

I finally picked myself out of the mass of people, then there was another obstacle I had to tackle. The elevator was not working and I had to pull myself and the luggages up the stairs. So tired, I could barely carry one bag, and I have to stop at each and every step to catch a breath.

Then a man, probably in his mid 50s walked up to me out of nowhere and asked,”Miss, let me help you with your luggage.” At first I was taken aback and hesitated a bit. But the good man insisted even more. He carried both my luggages all the way outside  until I got into a cab. He left in a hurry after that, before I could even thank him.

When I lie in bed that night, I replayed the whole incident over again. What that man did today might not seem like a big thing, he himself might not notice, but for me, the little time he took to help others, that too a complete stranger and the random act of kindness he had shown to people in need, gave me so much hope. I prayed wherever he might be, he would be blessed.

Small, little random acts of kindness, just two minutes of your time you gave for others could mean so much to the other person, and it could ignite a smile on their faces, brighten their day and give them hope. It couldn’t possibly hurt us or won't cost a thing. We could be earth angels.

Moreover, I’m glad there are  sensible people who still cares out here in Delhi.

The Candle

The other night, I was sorting out my pile of old stuffs when I found this  piece of paper in one of my old dust-ladened  Chemistry textbook. It was the poem which I wrote back in college which fetched me first prize in an ON-THE-SPOT poetry writing competition. Here goes...     

The candle in the dark

Lighting up glooms amid the darkest hour

A beacon upon the clear sky

Shines it’s path for many to see

Many would lurge, stumble and fall

If not for the light of thee

Twas in this light that we see

The shadows that obscure our path

The Holy words of God

The knowledge of being saved on the cross

This is what the candle means to me

To lighten my life forever more

This is my ultimate goal

This is what I’m striving for

To light the candle high on the hill

And shine for all others to see

Tho’ down here below the candle melts

Here in my heart will it keep

Until the day  the Saviour returns

And take me home forever more

P.S -  Reading it again, I realised I have used a lot of clichés ( I hate cliches) but anyways I’m not a poet and I hardly ever write poems so I guess its ok. Moreover, this was an on-the-spot competition and we were given just 30 minutes time. Just posting it here because I felt a bit nostalgic, and, yes, the words really mean a lot to me.

The Scooty-ing experience......

Last year, I went home (Mizoram) during winter break. There, I noticed every girl in the locality was driving a scooter. All my friends were having it, and I instantly wanted one, though I knew I could barely ride it. I became so obsessed, especially with my friend’s bright orange scooty pept with flowers on the side, that I eventually started to live, breathe, eat, dream and talk scooters. My mom said there would be no point buying it now since I would be heading back within few days to Mumbai. I was a bit disappointed but I agreed she was right. But that did not stop me from achieving my “scooter” dream. I packed my bags and board a bus  to my uncle’s place in Kolasib since he owns one (a bright red hero honda activa) and also  the roads being less congested there, I thought I could ride all I want.

After several briefings from my uncle, I could ride the scooter on my own. First, I was a bit scared. But after many rounds from Project Veng to Diakkawn, I became fairly confident. And then I rode faster….. and faster… and faster. I almost felt like I was the best scoot-er-er in the world. It’s so easier than what it looked like, I thought….

I teetered up and down the road around 8:00 at night, there were only few other vehicles. I was too fast I guess, all of a sudden I lost control over the handle. I remember panicking for  a split second, and then I go ‘BOOOOOM!! CRASHHH!!’What happened next I really don't remember. All I know was that it would make me dread scooters for the rest of my life.

I considered myself very lucky that night. Though I fell pretty harshly with deep abrasions on my hand and knee, it wasn’t so dramatic. And at the very first moment I gained conscience after I fell, I decided that scooters are deadly-dangerous creatures and should be avoided at any cost. Thus, my dream of riding a scooter wearing a polka dot knitted cotton dress and wearing matching helmets and matching nail-paints was crushed to the ground. I was convinced that I would never touch or be near any scooter-stuff ever again, because if I did, it would eventually kill me. Just the thought of sitting on it still gave me chills back my spine. I hated scooters.

A few days later, my mom said she had a very special surprise gift for me. "No special occasion, just for being a good daughter", she said. She asserted that I would love the gift so much that I might never wanna leave home again. My brother told me that I would love the gift and it was exactly what I wanted, so, I thought may be it's a Blackberry phone, since I have mentioned it once or twice that I needed a new phone. I've  wanted a Blackberry for sooo... long!! I was excited...I even googled the Taylor Swift theme Blackberry skin cover in some fancy hot pink or purple colour....

 But imagine the horror........when I found out the gift was this!!!!!........


                                        
  A FRIGGIN' SCOOTERRRR !!!!!!!!!!!

With the 16 year old brother who doesn't want his face to be seen in public, and still not old enough to have a driving license...:)))

I feel like I was being punished for what I did in another life :)))))

Life lessons from sunday schools...

From kindergarten to 12^th grade of schooling, my teachers would teach me just about everything there is to know, from ABC’s to algebra, Theory of Evolution to Newton’s Law and all kinds of facts and figures, so that I would one day grow up to be a tactful, nice and fine lady. Back then, little did I know that the most valuable lessons in life and the things that pulled me through series of the most unfortunate events of my life were the things that I learned in sunday schools. The songs that were sung, the scriptures that were memorised and the lessons that were taught are now the things that keep my life undefiled and intact, a source of infinite wisdom leading me to a just path.

My family belonged to the Mission Veng Presbyterian Church, and during my entire childhood, it was a very strict rule at home that on sundays we should attend sunday schools and afternoon services, and should not miss it unless we were like severely ill (y’know my grandmother). So, I always attended church on sundays, right from beginner’s department when I was a little girl to senior department in my early teens. I can still recall the first time I gave my sunday school exam when I was 4 years old.The teacher asked me who Samuel’s father was (a story from the Bible),  I promptly replied,”Apu Manga”, which was the name of my cousin Samuel’s dad. That teacher still makes fun of me even today :)

There are many fond memories of my sunday school days which I can recall, like the time when I had a  crush on the boy who use to sit just opposite when I was in senior department, who is now, of course happily married with a beautiful baby boy. Anyways, I never hesitated to attend Sunday schools. In fact, I thought it was a good way to spend your school-off day and I even get to meet my friends and the best part was that you don’t get homeworks and beatings from your sunday school teachers unlike the teachers in school. I also enjoyed listening to stories from the Bible and of course the singing. I never knew though, that it would have such an immeasurable  and profound impact in my life.

As life goes on and I grew older, life wasn't always kind and every now and then circumstances dictate what direction I had to follow - not always in line with my personal choice. Just when I thought I got the hang of how it all works, I messed up.  And the time came when I had to decide for myself what kind of a Christian I would like to be. It was at such times that I realised the gist of the Bible scriptures which I had absent-mindedly retained from childhood. And these have been saving me ever since, guiding my footsteps, delivering me from toil and strife.


When life gets tough and things get tumultuous and out of hand, I'd turn to a scripture which I long knew like the back of my hand and lived my life upon, which I had memorised in sunday school :-

When I am struggling with temptations, I am reminded of a Bible verse which was our “naupang inkhawm changvawn”, each word reverberating within me and then  preclude me from wrong and put things in perspective. ( Since I don’t know this in English I’ll write it in Mizo and sorry I can’t remember the exact chapter and verse) :-

“ Nunna hmangaih duh leh ni tha te hmuh duh chuan

 Sual lakah a lei veng tha sela

 A hmui pawh ngamthlemna thu sawi  lo turin veng tha rawh se

 Sual kalsan in thil tha ti rawh se

 Remna zawngin um zel rawh se

 Lalpa mit chu mifelte chungah a fu a,

 A beng pawh an tawngtaina lamah a  chhi si thin a…..”

When I grieve the lost of a loved one or when someone dear would leave me, I thought about the story of Job and Abraham which was taught in sunday school. They lose everything they hold dear but still did not complain or curse God and  remained faithful despite their extremely difficult situation.

When I am disappointed by a family member or a close friend or disheartened by anyone, I thought of 1 Corinthians 13:4  that makes me choose not to retaliate but to love them unconditionally instead :-

I can never forget what Pu Hual-a (our church elder) once said during a campaign for children in my church. He said there are just four words that will guide you in your journey with Christ. Whenever you face any situation, just ask yourself “What would Jesus do?” (WWJD)  if He were in your position. This has been a powerful and life-changing  slogan (?) for thousands of people including me.

Finally, I’d like to add, my life is an embodiment of gratitude right now, and there are so many little things which I am grateful for, I could write an endless list (which I’m planning to make it my next blog post) but since you must be having a hard time finishing this ridiculously long post, I’d make it short.  I’m grateful that I am a Christian. I’m grateful for being a part of the Mission Veng Presbyterian Church and I’m grateful to all my sunday school teachers who had enriched my life in ways they can never imagine. May God bless the church abundantly!

She's still looking out for me....

When I was little, I prayed every night that  my grandmother would live a hundred years. In fact, I prayed that my whole family would live a very long life, but my grandmother’s name would always come first. Tears would well up in my eyes everytime other members of my family or anyone complained about my grandmother being slow and dropping and breaking things.

As long as I can remember, my grandma had always been looking out for me. She would drop me off to school and sit and wait for me until school was over. In my school and even in church she was more popularly known as “Alvina-i Pi”, because we were always seen together. Every morning, she woke up at 5:00 to attend the morning prayer service. The church was her life, and she would read and tell me stories from the Bible every night before sleeping. I loved her so dearly and my heart would sink at the thought of her dying.

It was the morning of 3^rd April 2006 (the year of my sweet 16^th birthday), my grandma passed away. It all happened so fast  I couldn’t even cry .The moment she breathed her last, I ran up to my room because I was embarrassed to cry in front of so many people. I silently prayed “God, I thank you for the 83 years…but it’s just not enough…”

Two years back, four years since my grandma  died, I was in Mumbai doing my grad. I was so pre-occupied with my life there, my friends, college and everything that  I  haven’t  thought of my grandmother in a very long time. One fine day, it so happened that my laptop was stolen in the hostel, and I was too scared to tell my parents. I used my entire life savings for a new one as a result of which I became poverty-stricken and flat broke. I did not want to tell my parents and ask for help. I was so worried and the fact of not getting a new dress for my college farewell party was morose. Then one night, I had this  really strange dream.I saw my grandmother.I could not see her face nor recall what she was wearing.It was all blurred, like a silhoutte. But her voice was so clear it almost seemed real .She said ,”Bawihte, engtikah nge I pa hian pawisa a rawn thawn dawn che a?”

The next morning when I woke up, I was still broke. I knew I would still be the only one not wearing a new dress for the farewell party, but I had this sudden surge of bliss and beatitude, because now  I know my grandmother was still looking out for me, and she was there to help me get through this. I guess she’s in Heaven now, perhaps hanging out with Jesus or having coffee with Abraham and Peter. I can only imagine the smile on her face. So for now, I know I need not worry about anything at all because I somehow believe she’s still praying for me. So, I know I am always in safe hands.I thank God for reminding me time and again of how much I am loved.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there, I did not die

I am the thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glint on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,

I am the swift, uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there, I do not sleep.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.

I am not there, I did not die! I am the song that will never end.

I am the love of family and friend.

I am the child who has come to rest

In the arms of the Father who knows me best.