Loving Rascal

The Lonely Creator: The Heartbreak of the Fashioner is a deeply personal, raw, and visceral psalm of lament born out of sudden emotional trauma and profound relational heartbreak. Written from the unique perspective of a medical practitioner and pastor-teacher, this piece serves as an honest window into the jarring reality of human grief colliding with a lifetime of structured faith.It is a meditative journey through the physical and spiritual shockwaves of betrayal—wrestling with the perceived silence of the Divine, the gut-wrenching emptiness of earthly accomplishments, and the ultimate alignment of human suffering with the lonely, unrequited love that the Creator holds for a fallen world. Even in the depths of anger and disorientation, it remains an anchor to identity εν Χριστώ (in Christ) and a testament to a faith that refuses to fake its smiles. The Lonely Creator (By Manoj) Was it a sign for life or of death? One minute smiled, the next tears filled my eyes. Deep sighs, fake smi...

The following piece is a raw, symphonic exploration of the friction between transcendent grace and human systems. Written in a dynamic, rhythmic style that blends the immediacy of modern spoken-word with deep-rooted Abrahamic and liturgical imagery, the text wrestles with the ultimate paradox: how an unconditional, disruptive love can suddenly lift an individual while the surrounding corporate and religious architectures demand a cold, transactional fitness. It is a real-time calculation (Logistomai) of risk, vulnerability, and systemic failure—ultimately pointing toward a loyalty that defies human understanding. Logistomai: The Fit Survive or the Savior Fits the Meek Why do I feel loved suddenly, Though attacked on all sides? Is it love? Or some magic I can name not? Still I strive with all my might, Though it's too low—perhaps, not fit. Mesmerized me! Was it a fairy tale, a short love story? Consequential? Productive? Or counter productive? My mind blows up... Logistomai... I cal...

 **Disclaimer:** This piece is a work of creative expression. While it draws upon real-world cricketing metaphors and cultural icons, any resemblance to specific real-life individuals, private events, or personal incidents is purely coincidental . Welcome back, rascals. Life has a funny way of testing our footwork. Just when you think you’ve settled into a smooth rhythm, someone decides to dig one into the pitch, aiming straight for your head. Betrayal, toxic energy, or the quiet malice of a bruised ego—we’ve all faced those sudden, aggressive "bouncers" that try to knock us off balance.But here is the secret the greats won't always tell you: you don't have to smash every ball that comes your way. Sometimes, the classiest move on the field—and in life—is an elegant, unbothered duck.In this deeply reflective piece of free-verse poetry, we look at the ultimate playbook for surviving overwhelming attacks. Blending the cool patience of M.S.D., the fearless swagger of Viv ...

Welcome to the deep end, fellow rascals.  Pull up a chair, silence the noise, and get ready to feel something real. Today’s piece is not your typical, neatly packaged romance. This is a raw, high-velocity, soul-baring confession of vulnerability, divine timing, and overwhelming passion. It’s a wild ride that jumps from the everyday chaos of a delivery scooter to the quiet, cosmic certainty of God’s will—blending cinematic heartbeats, hidden names, and the kind of love that leaves you entirely defenseless.  We invite you to step into this stream of consciousness. Don't just skim the lines; dive all the way in. Take your time, feel the rhythm of the refrain, and drink from it until your thirst for pure, unfiltered love is completely quenched.  Read on, and let your own heart miss a beat. Divine Timing, Divine Delivery: Crimson Lips, the Heaven's Delight The happiest moment of my life I told my Lord Take it now If you want to take my life For I don't want to face  Any s...

This evocative poetic reflection is directly from my heart and it shows exactly how I feel in the now. But it also simulates the Son of God who chose to reveal himself in Manoj (Man of Jesus). We think we understand the cross, but we often domesticate it. We turn a cosmic, reality-shattering moment into a sterile religious symbol. We forget the sheer tension of that day—the terrifying irony of human dust trying to bury the Divine, and a Father holding back the formatting of the universe just so it wouldn't undo itself in grief and fury. This poem dives straight into that cosmic collision. It explores a "win-dictive" world that wanted a conquest of power, missing the One who came to win through the vulnerability of self-giving love. From the grave to the throne, here is a good look at the ultimate paradox: the day Heaven and earth intersected, and the universe held its breath.  Yahweh knew what his Son was going through When he was being crucified By hateful people, stubbo...