Do check ‘Mere Inkling: Colors-of-heaven & CS Lewis,’ not a casual read, it provokes sensories.
What’s heaven like- what are we ? What Divide binds us together? What Great Divorce reverses our cataracts with Lens that sees thru’ all blindness?
“Thirst was made for water; inquiry for truth” C.S.Lewis. The great divorce QUOTES – Prasanta Verma.com
train window, & hot sky as blue as quenching water
We’re just back from a rail trip: our white heat shredding clouds.
No, our son couldn’t see this blue, not that he’s not fascinated by the brown of our skin, knows our palm seen up close, is a lighter shade.
What he canNOT see reminds me of the essence of Faith, Its very Evidence. I’m staring at Beauty staring back at me, via some rough terrain.
‘India is not for beginners,’ goes an Insta Post. Nah, nor all the earth.
Everything above, beneath us, and around screams a Presence our Iris may not be enhanced enough to see. What’s Color got to do with Faith/ the Absence of It?
In the city we traveled to, a wide eyed child wondered that I wasn’t fluent in their local language. The mother, a long haired mature beauty shrugged and apologized for not knowing my own local language, then she wondered out loud how I was fluent in English,
I had no energy left to explain our diverse co-existence; it was 10 pm, we’d just returned from a beach where the head of a buffalo family bumped- scraped one horn, not too nastily though, in my healing frozen shoulder. It had been getting dark, I was next Wes, a local friend. How did buffalo suddenly arrive and in my left arm ?
I’m left handed; this is the sixth injury in that same spot – in the recent span of 3 months. This time I wasn’t wedged between two doors, nor fell, nor got hit by random object- I was at a beach. Buffaloes aren’t s’posed to be there, not in a velvet twilight, not in those sinky sands. Post twilight, the waves glowed white crescent in molten indigo black: they reflected nearby neon lit food stalls vending roasted fish and shrimp kebabs. There’s aroma in colors; our senses merge,
we humans live between portals looking out at impossible hues, blends, energies that surpass us.
India is a diverse trough of many Shades. So I couldn’t explain myself enough to the lady. We have 121 languages, 270 mother tongues, the second highest number of languages (780),dialects included. Don’t begin to ask about religious symbols of devotion, decked in glittering vermilion silk, jeweled umbrella, turmeric block prints, jasmine, burning incense.
Don’t ask about global rhetoric against Faith that has reached our living rooms. So I’m speaking softly. I’m thinking out loud on Christ. And how He met even me, not just via our legacies of pews & altars where the Light of the World streamed via stained glass amber sunlit Shepherd, and held my heart in His,
not just fleeting sensories in such moments, but in the loud hush of a healing, in the maddening riot of a freeway street, locking horns with auto rickshaws & metal headed scooterists, oh blood red Lorries, racing each other in dust gold 6pm…
did I meet Christ just there, but not in this heart – reasoning disbelief in what the eye cannot see;
for sure I met Him in the darkness of my thoughts. For here, His radiance struck my so-called intelligence with Light that answered the call of my soul blindness.
I see stars and suns rise in the gutter, by the castle of dreams, where the rivers on deserts cry, Peace..” (Excerpt of my song Prisoner of Hope).
“I saw the most dazzling colors, which was all the more surprising because I’m color-blind. I can distinguish the primary colors, but pastels all look the same to me. But suddenly I could see them, all kinds of different shades. Don’t ask me to name them because I lack the necessary experience for that.” Excerpt – Mere Inkling
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