Let me take tell you about my history with scriptures. Right since the age of understanding, it has been an adventure. As a child, my mom always told me to repeat a verse thrice. And that was supposed to bring those words to life. We had a poster containing a list of scriptures pasted on a wall. It covered a lot of basic needs, both big and small. And I'd claim whatever I wanted, even if it was partially. See, I thought it was like chanting a spell and things would appear miraculously. But yes, I did believe every word was gospel truth. And my Bible was always my absolute. Each of us had our own. That makes four Bibles in one home. I still have the same one; it's been with me for decades. It's the oldest possession of mine that has been with me always. Well, Bombay Catholics usually use a GNT. Too accustomed to change it now, although with the version I'm not too happy. Every day before dinner, it was family prayer time. And we'd gather together as a family and not whine. To say a decade of the rosary and a lot of other prayers. A family that prays together stays together ...all those years. And at the end of it, me or my brother would take turns to read a portion. The fun part was the reader had the gift of choice and option. So, we'd randomly open any page and pick any thing we'd fancy. Since we were two kids, the other one got to interpret; that was our modus operandi. There was no right or wrong. No pressure, so it was like a fun song. Since early years, my Bible has suffered torturously at my hands. With all kinds of markings and highlights and writings resembling a scrambled egg pan. I remember during my time as crew with Jet, in transport I'd be reciting a list of verses, how can I forget? All in the hope of attaining knowledge, memory and wisdom. Before every international flight, I followed this system. You see, every sector was assigned different wines. And remembering all those French names was like paying for some crimes. A different collection for economy, business and first. Oh come on people, why so many choices to quench your thirst? Remembering the main grape varieties. New world, Bordeaux or Burgundy. Even the pronunciations were quite a task. So, to God and scriptures I'd go to help and ask. I recited those in the hopes of honing my memory. But, at the back of my mind, this one thing always bothered me. I noticed early on, the Bible always referred to wisdom as 'reverence for God'. It disturbed me almost like that description was flawed. Because I just wanted good memory. But just about every verse described it differently. I had a huge list written on few papers. About forty verses seeking wisdom in favour. Those were days before search engines and regular internet. So I was the one who searched those verses and did select. Well, that is my history with scriptures; and now, you know. I still have those pages, though tattered, from years ago.
-RUELHA www.ruelha.com © Copyright Protected. All Rights Reserved
This is a series of poems describing a week in my life that occured four and a half years ago. I encourage you to read it in the correct sequence. I have listed them here for your convenience: