How I got my first lesson!

Before I knew much, I knew death. I was three and a half when my parents explained to me that I wont see him in a while. They told me that he'd do his big brother duties from a better place, that he'd be my guardian angel for life. I just had to believe.
They assured me that I will see him someday, either in heaven or on earth (if JC decides to raise him like he did in Mark 5:21-43 )
I placed an angel on his chest, while he lay in the coffin and I bid him goodbye, temporarily.

I couldn't see him, but he was there?
Doesn't God work on the same principal?
Well then, lets say I got a lesson on 'belief' very early.

I didn't question them. If I did, it made them sad. I still don't ask many questions. I just believed.
I couldn't understand why they cried so much. I figured it was because we couldn't see him around anymore.
Yes, I would miss making spit bubbles at him to show him I was in a fight.
But he was there, wasn't he? Then why the fuss?

To a child whose dad is a sailor, goodbye comes easily. It was the 80's and early 90's, once you said goodbye the other persons existence is merely an idea, except for the occasional phone call.
Pop himself was an idea when I was born. He was sailing. He came, saw and left again.
He was there, but I couldn't see him. But I knew I'd see him someday

As time passed by, I mastered the concept 'I couldn't see him, but he was there. I'd see him someday.' Mum and I wandered though her religious journey picking all the fruits of religious wisdom she could find on her way for STRENGTH, took a bite and handed them down to me.

I spoke about JC in school. Parents would call to complain that I'd be great if I could to be more secular in my views as a five year old.

It was around then that 'Aladdin' had released as well. I saw JC as nothing more than my personal genie. A genie that said , ' Ask and you shall receive..' ( Mathew 7:7)
She was my best friend. I was willing to share my genie with her.
She and I wanted a dress we saw in a film. We had no idea where we could ask our parents to find us something like that. I'd tell her, I knew a place. All we had to do is go there and pray and the dress would be ours.

We did nothing of that sort though. We made the dress with paper and were just as happy.

But, the point is.. JC and I, that's how old our story is. The seed was planted then. Nothing has changed. He is still the genie, the best friend and the only man who never left.

You have a situation? Wait for the Miracle.

I've seen JC work many miracles in my life. That's how I came to believe I guess.
Miracles, like mistakes.. You need to have your own to know better. We're only human at the end of the day, we get 'doubting Thomas' like easily.
I've heard friends and parents warm me about something.. but unless I dive right in and find out for myself, I'm never full satisfied. Of course you get the ' I told you so ' at the end, but somehow it feels like it was worth the trouble cuz now you know for sure.

You're probably wondering.. What did she have to do for a Miracle?
I don't know. But I'll paint the background out so may be either you or I.. can figure it out?

Mr and Mrs Andrews were married in 1983.
Mr. Andrews was a sailor, A Radio - Officer in the Merchant Navy.
Mrs. Andrews a home-maker. Let me just say.. She's kickass at that. So much awesomeness.
Theirs was an arranged marriage.
Their first born, a son, Nitin Andrews. Born on May 30th 1985.
Their second born, I. Born on November 16th 1988.

Pop was from a little village in Kerala and Mum a Chennai city girl . Enough said.

He was the more religious one off the two of them. He was an altar boy in his younger days. His dad passed away when he was just a boy. After his passing, my paternal grandmother took care of nine children all by herself. The only help she sought was from the Lord.
So naturally, in our family.. Pop always insisted on sunday mass, daily family prayers etc. He believed in the ruthless principle, ' Fail to prayer and suffer ' or ' Disobey and suffer '. He is very 'Old- Testament-ish'. His faith was strong.

Mum on the other hand is the 'too cool for school' kinds. Naturally making her one of the coolest mum's you'll ever find. However, both her parents were academicians. They were teachers in two different prestigious schools. They were religious too. I've heard my grandmum narrate a few of her religious stories to me as a child. They were more ' New Testament-ish ' though. They'd pray and they'd say family prayers too.. but they also knew ours was a forgiving god. So slacking in prayer was seen as.. acceptable.
Mum's great faith in the Lord came later. The kind of faith she would later instill in me. But it cost her much. It came in the most shocking and unexpected way.

On May 3rd 1992, the doctors who worked on my brothers tonsils operation announced that they had killed him. The doctor had given him a ' wrong ' injection. He vomited blood and died.
Who dies in a tonsils operation? The doctors knew that too. So, they hid the news of his demise for three days saying he was in the ICU.

No. My parents did not sue them. Heartbreak by some silly boy is bad enough. The kind of pain that comes from the loss of a child I'm sure handicaps some part of you for life. They explained to me that  they were ready to fight but nothing was more important to them than his life. Life, his Life that had gone and no court could bring back.

Mum's religious journey thus began.
She explored ways to bring him back. Nothing worked.
So, like the prodigal son, she returned to the Lord.
The only thing she asked for this time was STRENGTH.
He gave it to her in abundance.

Ask Pop, he'll tell you how strong she's become. Especially during them fights. :D

Introduction

I should probably start with an introduction of sorts. So, HEY THERE!

This is my second attempt at blogging. The first time I decided to blog the story of my life, I ran into a lot of trouble on the personal front. I was a student of literature back at the time. I wrote a lot. 

Since then, I've come a long way. My writing abilities however are rusty. Well, what I mean is..

Six years later , with three degrees and a solo album , I wrote the occasional song or two and a thesis or two.. but its been a while since 'sharing' has taken on a prose form.

Hopefully, I've gotten wiser this time around. Older for sure. 

I'm still a little nervous though. Its bringing back memories. Not good ones.

Anyyyywhooo!

This is my second attempt at narrating the story of my life. If you know me personally, you know just how dramatic my life is. You've even told me I should make a movie out of it.

While I enjoy the drama and I know you will too, I'm going to leave a lot of it out of this blog. 

This blog will focus on only the kind of the drama that has come from JC.. not the kind I create or the kind that is attracted to me.

Yes, you heard me. JC gives us drama. We sort of multiply it and make it worse.
But yes, HE GIVES US DRAMA.

I think it may take a lifetime to fully know and answer the question, " But WHY does he give us drama? "

At 25, from what I've understood so far.. It could be because He still wants us to believe in fairytales and miracles.Without a situation.. how will we see miracles? 

I mean, If Cinderella was not poor, would she have met the fairy god mother? Would she have appreciated all that the fairy god mother had done for her? 

At my age, It could be strange to believe in 'fairytales', but I like knowing that anything can happen. 

Why shouldn't I? I've seen the impossible.

This blog is the story of JC, My Miracle Man and I.