Couple of thoughts strike.

One a couplet analogous to “Water, water everywhere, Not a drop to drink anywhere”  as BUILDINGS BUILDINGS EVERYWHERE, NOT A TREE IN SIGHT ANYWHERE!

Second, buildings of all types & sizes: tall, short, lean, fat; piled up lego sets forming narrow paths for toy cars, a child’s play.

An urban jungle (sic). The title is a misnomer. Jungle implies cool shades, leafy glades, swaying trees, rippling streams. flowery moss, twittering birds,  shadowy nooks, dappled sunlight, harmonious sounds and lurking life.

Here towering concrete structures, unyielding in their stance; radiation bouncing off them adding to the heat; horns honking adding to the din; imitation  light aiding artificial cooling; a world governed by metallic wealth.

World in a hurry, no time for living things – people, animals, birds, flowers, trees, etc. We have exchanged gold for tinsel. Sad, tragic that we don’t realize it.

In our search for Utopia, we have lost Shangri-la.




A new season for my daughter and for me. My heart for her as she takes the first step out of home. (Written on Aug 29th, 2014, when my daughter left to study in Europe)

Andrea Utrecht

Fly away my daughter
To the heights unknown
To mountains unscaled
To paths untrod

Fly away my daughter
To places unseen
To loads uncared
To burdens unborne
To horrors untold

Fly away my daughter
To honors unashamed
To riches unlocked
To greatness unending
To fullness unfelt before.

Fly away my daughter
But always fly close to
Him who is the God of all that is big and small

Fly high my daughter
But fly secure under
The shadow of His wings who is the God of all Israel

As I sow you as a seed for His Kingdom sake
As I release you in to the open to fly in His skies
As you lift your eyes to new vistas and run to new horizons
I lift my hands in surrender to the God of all creation.

My only care is not for control over
But a prayer of blessing and a heart full of faith

That you would always be under power of His guidance
That would always be anchored to His care
That your head would always be in the clouds
But your feet firmly placed on the ground
That you would always know the quietness of His presence amidst the turmoil of the day

May the light of His countenance lighten your every darkness
May the grace of His presence be your abiding dwelling
May the love of Giddy be the comfort of your soul
May the power of His Spirit be your ever present help



Why Older Leaders Fight Change.

This article points to research that older leaders and employees didn’t resist change because they have invested in old ones and not in the new, but because they think that the answer to every problem is to continue doing what they’ve always done.  So it’s not always pride, over-confidence, or resistance leaders exhibit but may be the DNA built into our systems. The study confirms that as we grow older, we tend to rely on past experience to get us through new challenges. It also points out that if we are not ready to change gears, look at the problem in new directions, and be open to alternatives, we would just sit around our laurels, remind ourselves of how great we used to be, and like the mice in the study, slowly starve to death.

For some time now I have been mulling on this:  Generation gap exists not because the young are growing but because the old are not evolving with them!

Change is inevitable in life and unless we, both young and old, accommodate, incorporate and adapt, will find ourselves sitting on the curb while life passes by us. We will be just spectators, not participators!

Its common accepted norm that as old people grow their bones stiffen & so does their attitude and their ideas. Everything about them gets atrophied because of lack of exercise. It may be true of our physique but that need not be the case with our heart snd mind. In fact, it shouldn’t be so!

The older one grows the more flexible one should become. Life has taught us and filled us with enough experience to flow with the tide, run with the flow and move with the stream. We know how to weather the storms, ride the waves and navigate the rapids. We could be such as a backbone and asset to the generation that follows.

Sure the young are often insensitive but can’t say that the old are any better. However, the onus is on the seniors who should be more mature and better at life.

After all, the characteristics of gold that makes it a prized precious metal is that it is malleable & ductile – flexible to be made into any shape.


Pic courtesy  The Hindu newspaper





A foetus in my womb,
A babe in my arms,
A child holding my hands,
An adolescent stepping away
A collegian freaking out
Were you my son until this day.

A man you are today
No more from this day
The cocooning of my womb
The molly coddling of my arms
The clutching of my hands,
Or the panic of my fears.

Yet I promise always
The bending of my knees
The wisdom of my days
The openness of my mind
The love of my heart
And the distance of my pains.

How swift you run to the extent
of your mien
Your feet hastening eagerly to the fulfilling of your destiny.
Alas, I am neither fleet as before
nor strong as of old
So here I am preparing for your flight from me,
And your absence from our home.

So I call on you my son
To pause a moment
And ponder awhile
Of the time that is ahead
When it matters who you are,
Than what you do.

Prepare, my son,
For a time such as that
By setting your heart on high
To earn a name without blame
To seek the good and not the fame
And play fair the game.

Bolster your being with
The communion of the Supreme Being,
Ever live in the light of His face
And not in the glory of man’s gaze.
Walk to the cadence of your own beat
Than dance to the tune of your meet.

Seek to stand set apart
Far from the madding crowd.
Melt not with the teeming masses
Nor merge in to a molten (w)hole.
Walk a lonely path if need be
To fulfil the vision you are called to be.

See the need of those around
Sense the plight of those who are bound.
Be an answer to their helpless state
For their sorrow and sin to abate.
Christ has taught you of low estate
That’s needed to raise their meta state.

So my son bid farewell to the past
Embrace the present and hold it fast
Until the future is in your grasp at last.
Let His Word be your constant mate
His approval your constant sustain
And His Presence your mainstay.

My heart wants to hold to the boy
But time has come to release the man.
Oh how quick the passage of days!
Will he reject, will he refuse, will he ever retract
The care he can give when we our need reach?
Ah Lord, you are never ending source, our endless refuge & eternal reward!




Junk all around, you shudder.

Worse still a toilet, you mutter.

Don’t  they have anything better,

You wonder, you stutter.

Fade out, fade in, focus

Ah now I see!

Blue beauties, yellow pretties, green greens!

What to mull, what to write

Beauty or beast, junk or jazz!

A choice to make, a stance to take

A lesson to learn, a moral to make

An eye to see, a heart to perceive!

I choose the present over the past

I see that the best is often yet to be!






Friday Fictioneers





Wow, that’s picturesque!

You wouldn’t say that if you knew the place.

Why not? Love the place. Let’s go there!

Looks deceive.

Come on. You don’t want to take me there.

Of course , I don’t want you there.

Whaat! That’s my dream house. Water flowing by my house. Green all round.

No go. You don’t want to live there.

Why ever not?

That’s heart of that city when the river water overflowed the banks!