Morn was a tranquil dream. I watched the sun casting shadows with tremulous excitement. Fairies floated in the sky with magnificent luminous delight. I praise God Jehovah Jesus for all blessings given.
I stopped reading the Old Testament and started reading the Gospel of Mathew. The narrative is profoundly moving. The mysteries of the Bible are profound and deeply moving. I am subduing my will and asking God about his will in my life. It’s a wonder to me as to why the Jews could not accept Jesus as their savior. But today it’s a different scene. There are hordes of Messianic Jews. And that makes a difference. I was reading the story of the woman who had issues of blood, who touched the robes of Jesus and was completely healed. How moving is her childlike faith. I always ponder on the mystery of the Trinity, yes it’s quite esoteric.
The monsoon has started in Kerala and yet the rainfall has been very scanty. I hope that God won’t give a water scarcity. I remember the days when I used to make paper boats and send it through the stream. Monsoon has been a chorus of joy. Monsoon has been a poetic epiphany.
I have also started reading Salman Rushdie’s Midnight Children. The novel starts with the protagonist Saleem Sinai born at midnight 12 and strangely it is the time when India got its independence. Then the novel shifts to the past and he does a detailed narrative about Sinai’s grandfather Adam Azees.
Every day, I teach something new to the children. It could be a word or a grammatical thing. I enjoy it much now.
I spent time on the evening quietly meditating on the art of sunset. Sunset is clad with a myriad of colors—orange, pink, red and golden. They make a beautiful music, a solitary poem. The rhythm of colors in the sky forms a passionate music. God Jehovah Jesus had blessed me to appreciate the nuances of nature, the gentle, silent rhythm of poetry, the transmogrification to a soul of love. The travelers in the sky are dancing in pulchritude. Their rhythms are beauty so sweet.
I had an anxiety disorder. I am praying to God to get me rid of it. The Devil was hacking my brain severely and now I have the sweet balm of Jesus to heal it. Thank God Jehovah Jesus, I have got cured from insomnia.
I am fascinated by the way post-modern fiction is written. There are temporal shifts in time, extreme irony, and use of tropes, unreliable narrator and inter-textuality. All my works in fiction has been experimental. Yes, I am slowly getting readers to read about my work.