The Sample Five

I have five personalities from different  faiths.
I found it quite interesting to look into the possibility and likely hood of these people having a free passage through the golden gates of Heaven.Two are deceased and  we may not hold any doubt as to where one would be now.

Benny Hinn is an example of his kind who have virtually hijacked all faiths and religions.Thriving on the wrecked lives of people and the gullible .

Benny Hinn was born in  1952, in the then newly established state of Israel.

Took to evangelism, and reportedly earns revenue in excess of USD 250 million a year. He,Hinn is known for his  extravagant life style. He claims to have anointing, special power given by God to heal the sick. Watch dog groups have alleged that his healing acts are contrived and participated by volunteers. Hidden cameras placed at his healing ministries have found deep set and well orchestrated false and fake practises. Hinn exhorts people to donate to his ministry and be saved from all debts by the Lord.

Facts on Benny revealed by NBC:-- Hinn's salary is somewhere around a million dollars per year.
 he has a $10 million seaside mansion,.
 he owns a private jet with annual operating costs of about $1.5 million. and he drives a Mercedes SUV and convertible, valued at about $100,000 each. (Source Watchdog).

Benny Hinn Ministries supports  quite a few missions of charity around the world.

Mother Teresa - needs know encomium or  help from any amicus curiae

Nelosn Mnadela the living symbol of conscience.

The current bearer of St Peter's legacy. One of the richest person in the world.Ornamentally dressed and ostentatious- in total contrast with the shepherd he swears by.
Zealously labours in spreading the "Word" around the world .
Is awkwardly placed in his relationship with other faiths.

The White Sahibs of Great Britain called him "the willy politician and the half naked fakir.

Albert Einstine quoted in his eulogy ,"generations to come will scarce believe that such a one as this in flesh and blood walked upon this earth".
All that he possessed while he was shot dead was ,a pair of leather footwear, a metal rimmed spectacles,a fountain pen ,a pocket watch , a wooden walking stick, a manual spinning wheel, besides the home spun cotton fabric he draped around his body.

Sleeping with the Monsoon

I was pretty tired and must have fallen into the tranquil comfort of sleep well before midnight. I was alone in that house in Cochin. My friend Sree and family left for Coiambatore leaving me in charge of the regularly unkempt house and the big Great Dane, Motti. Various matters as usual tired me, by late evening ,and the sleep was a welcome visitor.

 I do not know when it began but I woke up at the sound of the music- drum beat and jingle of the rain. It was pouring and in torrents. I lie in bed and saw through the curtains on the window, the monsoon- by night- at its zestful best in Kerala. And I began enjoying its goodness after many years. Living in Tamilnad for the last twenty odd years had its deprivation. An incessant torrential downpour was one. The monsoon does not visit my part of Tamilnad as it does the total of Kerala.

Through the curtains, I could see the heavy rain drops by the hazy light on the street. They were slanted and nearly twisted by the wind. I lay there in bed in all the comfort and peace that only dreams could give. I travelled back years to relive certain days and nights as such during height of monsoon. There were nights when I used to lie cuddled under the sheet listening to the torrent outside and wishing that it pours and pours through day break and school could be done away with. Myriad stories from the times when I was little, the lore connected with rain and rainy days that I picked from the oldies then, went through my mind. It was browbeating rain outside. I seemed to hear every drop of the wonder out there.

I thought of the years that went by. And now into the later part of life, the sound of the rain still holds amazing sway over the mind. Like ones mother, Nature has her many ways to fan you and sooth, the music of rain was one such way. It was a lullaby from up above.

I thought of the book that I read long ago written by Alexander Frater, “Chasing the Monsoon”. It became a highly noted BBC film too. The book documented Fraters journey from Kovalam off Thiruvananthapuram with the arrival of the monsoon clouds. His visit to the men at the observatory in Thiruvannathapuram, and their crude ways of predicting the monsoon; his travel by boat from Quilon and following the downpour right through Kerala , into Goa and beyond till the north east.

I had the sudden urge to get out of the bed and walk in the rain. But the comfort and cosiness of the bed, the thin sheet spread over my torso, the cool pleasant air ,the flapping of the curtains at the persistent gentle howl of the wind, and the music outside touched me much that amongst the thoughts I fell back into sleep- I slept that night with “the monsoon”.

'Fraility'

I searched for goodness

But it never was.

Perhaps sublimed and in the shadow, I reckoned

And  I searched.in vain.

Ruth and empathy, I searched about

But it never was.

Little pearls of Godliness,that endure in all

I sought, but it never was.

The smile, the words, quenching they seemed

So, yet, I searched again

And of no avail.

Scintilla of hidden goodness

That might be in us all

I searched in depth and with hope

But it never was.

Lament I did,'pray, I be wrong’.

I wailed, falter did I, in search?

But I saw,nay it was not so;

Because, ‘Frailty’ was her name!