Loving Rascal

Step into the shadows, you beautiful rascals... if you dare.  We’ve all had that sudden, spine-chilling sensation that someone is watching us. But what happens when that shadow behind you isn't a ghost, but a beautifully chaotic obsession? Today on the blog, we are playing a little game of cosmic hide-and-seek, exploring that deliciously dangerous line where deep devotion meets an absolute boundary violation.  One haunting truth. Two wildly different disguises.  First, we put on our best poker faces and step into the cold, calculated hellscape of corporate dread with **"Corporate Shadowing: The Ultimate Nightmare."** This version trades starlight for fluorescent office bulbs, turning a supernatural stalker into the ultimate micro-managing boss. It is a sophisticated, jargon-laced panic attack about a hostile takeover of your soul—complete with mandatory live-status updates and zero respect for personal space.  But once the clock strikes midnight, the mask comes off. ...

They love what you write until you don't fit their perfect sketch. This piece poured out of me on a Friday night, watching a community gather while sitting on the outside looking in. It’s a raw look at cultural shunning, unearned guilt, and that haunting question: was the warmth they gave me real, or just a beautiful lie? For every fellow rascal who has had to carry a heavy cross alone—grab a seat, this one is for you. Friday night returned, A crowd gathering to pray. I knew I was not welcome— Not allowed...  Yet I could not resist the window, Watching children play beneath the lights. The only night the lawn lost its sanctity, And innocent feet could press the manicured green.  A hollow space in my chest kept me awake. I waited for the courtyard to clear Before venturing down from my hostel room, Guarding a sorrow heavier than I could bear.  Hours earlier, a professor’s sketch had portrayed A forsaken Christ, enduring the shame of the cross. The dam inside me finally bro...

There has never been a day in my 23 years of faith when I felt more like an orphan than today. When my father told me to move out of our house in 2006, I gladly did. I had Christian friends to help me. When I was all alone, starting a new fellowship despite opposition from both Christian and Hindu groups, I still had confidence in my friends and the Lord. God used me to do that work for ten years. When I was studying at SAIACS, I felt more accepted than anywhere else and did well in my M.Div. After Ruth left in 2020, I managed everything on my own. Still, papa, mummy, and my younger brother kept supporting and helping me. I had some friends and mentors whom I could seek help from whenever I needed. Even my uncles supported my clinical practice. Still, my innermost desire was to serve the Lord. So, I kept studying. When I got admission to a PhD program, I was delighted. But I did not anticipate visa delays (I am still praying for the visa to come through). I joined M.Th. (NT) again, the...

Poetry is often at its best when it refuses to be neat. True to the spirit of a loving rascal, this piece is a collection of beautiful contradictions—mixing the chaotic energy of football, the stinging reality of social divides, and the raw, unedited nature of real love. It is an invitation to look past the surface and see what it truly means to know someone. Here is "You Think You Know Me?"   To know me, you must first learn how to feel. You must hold the green rage of betrayal deep inside, Turning your face upward to seek comfort from above, Only to find it falling softly as the rain. And in that downpour, you must unleash a curved Messi left-footer —A ball borrowed from a Spanish fan— Painting a messy red, dangerous yet full of fun. You must dance when those skies break open, And taste the cold sweetness of ice cream in the storm. You must find the same wonder in the burning sun, As you do in the silver moon and stardust.   You cannot look away from the concrete floor, Whe...

Many years ago, I think in 2006, I met a man in Mumbai. He was a praying man. The moment he saw me and heard that I'm from a Marwadi, Maheshwari family, he started weeping. I thought I had hurt him in some way. After a few minutes, he held my hand tightly and said to me, “I've been praying for the Marwadi community for many, many years. Until now, I haven't seen a single Maheshwari follower of Jesus. My God is a prayer-answering God.” I recalled him a few times during my tough times, particularly after divorce and false allegations that broke my heart and ruined my ministry. My friends and well-wishers suggested that I could go back to Hinduism. There's nothing for me in Christianity. I remembered Mahindra Georgekutty Chayan and how he praised God for Manoj (Man of Jesus) –his answered prayer, a miracle. I thought, “How can I disappoint that praying man by going back to Hinduism?” So, I decided to persevere in Christ come what may. Today, I'm back in the seminary wh...

Jesus waited two days before he left for Judea to visit Lazarus’ family, despite knowing he was sick and about to die (John 11:17). He arrived four days after Lazarus’ death (John 11:6). This deliberate waiting by Jesus could be seen as God’s waiting for humanity to return to him, 4000 years since death entered humanity as a result of their disobedience and curse. At Lazarus’ tomb, Jesus then weeps, perhaps expressing God’s grief about the human condition. In this way, Jesus first expresses God's deep grief from humanity’s separation. Next, he raises Lazarus, restoring immortality and eternal joy to humanity. Lazarus' death and resurrection foreshadow Jesus' own death and resurrection, through which he would bring an end to Adamic exile and raise humanity to new life. In the coming age, he will raise all who believe in him, as he announced to Martha before raising Lazarus.   “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, ev...