River of Life

Ezekiel 47: 1 - 9, 12


1 Then he brought me back to the door of the temple; and behold, water was issuing from below the threshold of the temple toward the east (for the temple faced east); and the water was flowing down from below the south end of the threshold of the temple, south of the altar.

2 Then he brought me out by way of the north gate, and led me round on the outside to the outer gate, that faces toward the east; and the water was coming out on the south side.

3 Going on eastward with a line in his hand, the man measured a thousand cubits, and then led me through the water; and it was ankle-deep.

4 Again he measured a thousand, and led me through the water; and it was knee-deep. Again he measured a thousand, and led me through the water; and it was up to the loins.

5 Again he measured a thousand, and it was a river that I could not pass through, for the water had risen; it was deep enough to swim in, a river that could not be passed through.

6 And he said to me, "Son of man, have you seen this?" Then he led me back along the bank of the river.

7 As I went back, I saw upon the bank of the river very many trees on the one side and on the other.

8 And he said to me, "This water flows toward the eastern region and goes down into the Arabah; and when it enters the stagnant waters of the sea, the water will become fresh.

9 And wherever the river goes every living creature which swarms will live, and there will be very many fish; for this water goes there, that the waters of the sea may become fresh; so everything will live where the river goes.

12 And on the banks, on both sides of the river, there will grow all kinds of trees for food. Their leaves will not wither nor their fruit fail, but they will bear fresh fruit every month, because the water for them flows from the sanctuary. Their fruit will be for food, and their leaves for healing."

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Savannah

Savannah

by Relient K

I hope to be there by the morning
And see this pining all transforming
Into the arms of the Georgia sun
Savannah
I'd love to feel the heat the sunrise
Brushing rays across my windshield as if one dries
The streams from off my face

Yet I know you'll be there cause you'll know I'll want you to be there
And we'll say hello as you're smiling in love
And we'll sigh so relieved I believe because we will both know by tonight we'll feel normal again
But until then
Until then
Until then

Savannah
Our backs supported by a hammock
We sum up perfection like a handbook
And God knows it all too well
Savannah
We'll take a walk to find a gift shop
Who would've thought the book that you bought
Would never come off the shelf

Baby
I spent my life wondering
Wondering when I'd find you
I searched for all these years and now you're right here
I need you to know that
Everything makes sense when you're with me

Savannah
Walk out into the sultry evening
Cotton breathing when the sea winds
Brush the hair down around your neck
Savannah
You hold my hand like it's the first time
And all the feelings that our hearts find
Will be just what we expect

Baby
It's all I can do to
Thank you
Cause every time you wrapped those arms around me
I felt I was home cause
Everything made sense when you were with me.

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Samosa pav

Mumbai is a foodie's delight. I have often been a street kid, and when it comes to Mumbai, where I spent my growing years, it's a riot. Quite contrary to the expectations of my well-meaning aunt in Mumbai, I can be found at 1 a.m. hovering near the pav bhaji carts outside Andheri station. The reason is that late-nght flights from Delhi are so stretched by then, that there really is no food to go around. So, hunters that we are, we go get our game. And in this case it's pure bliss.

Sometime back my friend from Goregaon took me for delectable Malwan cuisine to an otherwise reassuring dig, but with the staircase reeking of pee. But the tons of kulfi we had later, on a midnight dash to Borivili, more than made up.

When I narrated my nocturnal gambols, I was promptly christened a 'mawali'- I took it as a singular compliment! Aunty says I will never go hungry. That's kinda correct.
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Pix: pav bhaji past-midnight at Goregaon; Malvan non-veg thali at Goregaon; samosa pav with jelebi at Sagar sweet shop at Marol, Andheri East, outside Pallotti church. All locations in Mumbai, India.

8 March - International Women's Day

Me to an office colleague today: 'Happy Women's Day'
She:'I'm not a woman yet.'
Me : 'That's what you think.'

'Behold this Dreamer Cometh . . . Let us slay him'

This call by Joseph's brothers with reference to him (Genesis 37:19-20), seems to me today as fresh as it was when it was first uttered. To be Christ-like in today's world involves situations in which our values and actions are often at variance with the voice of the majority, and sometimes that of force. Like Joseph, we too have our dreams which often touch the lives of those around us and pose a threat to the status quo - especially when we knowingly or unknowingly project ourselves as better than others (Gen 37:7-9), or report them to the authorities (Gen 37:2).

We are all familiar with the feelings of hate and envy of Joseph's brothers (Gen 37: 4). Joseph was gifted. He was the interpreter of dreams - a gift which he had and they did not. They felt threatened and inferior. So they conspired against him and decided to kill him. It was as simple - as it often is today.

Like Judah, we see many today who befriend others not out of any intrnsic affection, but in terms of their utilitarian value. Like Joseph who is first sold to the Ishmaelites for 20 pieces of silver (Gen 37: 28), then via the Midianites, sold again in Egypt to Potiphar, we circulate as currency in the market of our time, sometimes signifying less, sometimes more. Even Jesus did not escape this. Only, the price was hiked by 10 more pieces of silver.

In today's world of increasing violence we need to listen to God's word and not just hear it. In this world there are the Josephs, the Reubens, and the Judahs and oftentimes we have been each of these in varying degrees. Like Joseph's 'coat of many colours,' (Gen 37:3) we also have different persona. In its divergent voices Genesis 37 calls us to clarify our intentions and renew our faith.

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Published in Renavacao, the Pastoral bulletin of the Archdiocese of Goa, Panjim, Goa; vol 27.6, March 16-31, 1997; painting by Velazquez.

Uploaded today to commemorate the same reading from Genesis 37 for today's Lenten Mass.

Isaiah 58: 9-14

9 Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry, and he will say, Here I am. "If you take away from the midst of you the yoke, the pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness,
10 if you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday.
11 And the LORD will guide you continually, and satisfy your desire with good things, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters fail not.
12 And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to dwell in.
13 "If you turn back your foot from the sabbath, from doing your pleasure on my holy day, and call the sabbath a delight and the holy day of the LORD honorable; if you honor it, not going your own ways, or seeking your own pleasure, or talking idly;
14 then you shall take delight in the LORD, and I will make you ride upon the heights of the earth; I will feed you with the heritage of Jacob your father, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken."
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This was the Gospel reading for Mass yesterday when I was on a weekend retreat. It struck me with a powerful force and I pondered over it several times. After the morning Mass at 7, I picked up the Good News Bible which lay in one of the bookshelves in hall.

As I proceeded to read the verses during the first session after breakfast, the lights were put off for an OHP presentation. I despaired.

From the East, a shaft of light from the rising sun fell on the page where the Bible lay opened, from the window adjacent to where I was sitting.

I was too overwhelmed to look elsewhere. For me, the Lord had spoken.
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Picture courtesy: holistic moon

Brian Reads at St Stephen's College

Gandhi Study Circle
St. Stephen’s College, Delhi

SATYA 2010

invites you to a poetry reading session with

Dr. Brian Mendonça
traveller-poet \ musician \ blogger


An evening of scintillation and cultural re-invention

16th February 2010 (Tuesday)
6:30 pm, SCR Lawns



THE EVENING

A day before Ash Wednesday, Brian shared his poems with students of St Stephen’s college at the SCR lawns, St Stephen’s College, Delhi University, North Campus, New Delhi. As daylight dripped into dusk, students silently filed in and occupied chairs – as if in a performance play – as Brian softly plucked ‘Greensleeves’ – the Elizabethen tune -- on his classical guitar. Robinson Raju, Final Year BA student at Stephen’s and the coordinator of the event, introduced Brian as a traveller-poet at 6.30 p.m. -- the scheduled time for the event to begin. In tribute to the synergy which made the gathering possible, Brian opened with the hymn ‘You are my hiding place’ on the guitar.

BLOG : The first clutch of poems were from Brian’s blog and included the Udaipur/Jaipur poems (Forthcoming in Journal of English Studies, University of Kashmir, Srinagar, 2010) and ‘Morning Walk- Delhi South’ and ‘Autumn Woman’ -- two poems recently published in the debut issue of South Asian Ensemble (Canada, Autumn 2009). Brian invited the students to contribute to the Ensemble for which he is on the advisory board. The Stephen’s reading of 16 February 2010 is Brian’s 90th blog at www.lastbustovasco.blogspot.com

POEMS for CHILDREN: ‘Hymn to Ravi’ (Published by Oxford University Press, Delhi, 2009) and ‘Barefoot Child’ (OUP, 2007) were read by Brian, bringing up the rear with ‘Childhood’ (Parmal, Goa, 2009). The little boy in the poem who pushes his tyre up the hillside and watches it roll down with glee recalled, observed Robinson, the myth of Sisyphus.

LAST BUS to VASCO (Self-published 2006, reprinted 2007): Next, the group set sail for Goa via Brian’s first poem ‘Requiem to a Sal’ (1989). ‘On the Run’ and ‘Sea in the Sky’ brought giggles with its staccato style leading on to the lyrical ‘Sonya’ and the acceptance of ‘Bells of St Andrews.’ ‘Fugitive’ was recited in Portuguese followed by the translation. ‘Praxis’ recalled the search for the poetic voice. Social issues were showcased in ‘Londa Station.’ The last poem in this section was ‘A Peace of India’ which was promptly followed by a Portuguese song ‘En Costa tua Cabecinha’ and the riotous Konkani medley ‘Undra Mhojea Mama.’

A PEACE OF INDIA (Forthcoming): A request for a poem from Bihar took us to Brian’s poem on the Sonepur mela and its ‘absent elephants.’ The pungency of ‘Kamariya lachke lupa lup’ made many blush. ‘Kali Gandak’ on the ‘black river’ followed. Nainital was next with the pathos of ‘Gargia’ lamenting the tragic death of a village girl to a speeding mini-truck in the hills: ‘You went away /when we came to love you’, the first lines, made a deep impression on the listeners. ‘Kundun’ an early poem, written in Dharamshala, evoked ‘The oracle [which] warns / of imminent danger.’ ‘Deep South’ took us all South of the Cauvery and a memorializing of the tsunami dead.

SAHITYA AKADEMI (2004): The moment of truth in Brian’s poetic career was the 14 poems published in the SA journal Indian Literature. From here Brian read the much-loved ‘I am not alone’ and ‘Traveller’- a manifesto to his destiny.

Fellow-travellers were impressed with the plenitude of Brian’s themes. Among his influences Brian mentioned, TS Eliot, Yeats, Pessoa, Sofia Andresen, and a host of Romantic music composers with Schumann leading the charge. ‘Do you write full-time?’ one student asked. Brian replied that he needed to work so that he could travel. Asked where he saw himself in the tradition of Indian poetry, Brian replied, ‘I enjoy writing. Let’s leave the theorizing to someone else.’ ‘Avalon’ (Parmal 2009) written in Anjuna was ample evidence of that. ‘Dr Brian Mendonca – traveller-poet, musician, blogger: An evening of scintillation and cultural re-invention’ said the poster. The evening certainly lived up to that!


Brian Mendonça

Dr Brian Mendonça, traveller-poet, musician, and avid blogger works in New Delhi as an ELT publishing professional. His self-published debut volume of poems Last Bus to Vasco: Poems from Goa (2006, with audio CD) was reprinted within a year. It also inspires the name of his blog. He is currently working on his second collection of poems entitled A Peace of India: Poems in Transit.

An ‘India-vidual’ Brian travels widely across India to read his poems and interact with poetry-lovers. 13 poems of his were published in Indian Literature, the journal of the Sahitya Akademi in May 2004 – his watershed moment, poetically.

Brian's poems, articles and travelogues have been carried by local and national dailies, and also in scholarly journals. In March 2009 he read a paper on Cuban poetry at the Centre for European and Latin American Studies, Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi

Born in Mithapur, Gujarat, he schooled in Don Bosco, Mumbai and did his graduation at St. Xavier’s College, Mapusa, Goa. His MA in English Literature is from the University of Bombay and his M.Phil from the University of Poona, Pune. His doctorate from the English and Foreign Languages University (formerly CIEFL) is on irrationality in the English Gothic novel.

He studied the Portuguese language at the Instituto Camoes in New Delhi and learnt classical guitar at the Delhi School of Music.

He divides his time between Goa and Delhi and any other place, which beckons him.
He can be reached at (0)9818432507
blog: www.lastbustovasco.blogspot.com