When getting killed by a train is easier

Easier.

I was feeling very sad. Hopeless.

I knew that people living with HIV were social outcasts, because they would die very quickly. I was in shock. I was now in that group. I asked myself, now what? Where will I get drugs? Will I marry, have kids? I couldn’t sleep.

I walked along the railway line in Kibera thinking it would be best to be killed by a train. That would be the end and people would say that Charles died because he was hit by a train, not Aids. It would be an easier way to die.

Its easy to ‘categorize’, ‘generalize’ and ‘comparmentalize’ our perceptions of people. Especially when we don’t understand them.

Someone once explained the ability to have compassion as “being able to put yourselves into the shoes of the sufferer, and feeling the pain he feels”.

I think this is so important as we relate to those around us, especially if they are less fortunate than us.

My parents were never divorced, but I have a number of friends who do. I have a particularly close friend, who now has 3 women claiming the title ‘mama’ in his life. He was willing to open and let me into his family history and share with me how it feels and struggles. I think the conversation we had was one of the more meaningful and substantial conversations we ever had. Thanks, friend.

I don’t have any friends who have HIV, and I’ve always wondered, what would I ask him about his sickness? Not that I can’t have a normal conversation with him, but I really want to get an insight into his life? to understand his struggles, if any. To discover what gives him joy, if any. To share his outlook on life. To prepare myself that I may intercede at the throne of grace more intelligently. I want to listen, learn and feel.

So when I came across this photo journal, and the title for this entry was ‘Easier’, I tried putting myself into his shoes, they fit easily, but I could not keep them in. I had to remove them. The sting was too sharp. I was at a loss of words. Helpless.

And Jesus, when he came out, saw much people, and was moved with compassion toward them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd: and he began to teach them many things. (Mark 6:34)

Lord Jesus, give me the grace to love You do. Help me to be filled with compassion, as You were.

Photo journal: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/shared/spl/hi/picture_gallery/05/africa_my_life_with_hiv/html/4.stm

Favourite pictures from Gold Coast

Here are some of my favourite pictures which i while in Gold Coast

Chinese new year in monochrome

Was tagged to do this.

Yes, I broke some rules, too bad ;-P

New Year’s Eve… The coffee shops were packed with people. I had to wait almost 10 minutes to get a place to sit. Here’s a man I shared a table with while I had my blood (teh si peng) transfusion.

Convinced Titus’s grandparents to baby sit him while Chin Ai and me took a break. Was nice having some just-the-two-of-us-ness. Had some ice-cream at Haagen Daaz. Mmmm.

Here we are making some funny faces.

My father in law expertly prepared a super steam boat for our reunion dinner. Here he is waiting patiently for everyone to gather round the feast.

Titus wasn’t so patient though.

Titus trying to dig uncle Joseph’s nose… yuk!

Post dinner conversations. In this pic, my brother in law, Joseph and Titus’s great grandmother. Wow.

Family time – Titus and Uncle Joseph.

Family Time – Joseph and poh poh

Lunch at Sushi King. Unc Eddie enjoying the free flow of green tea.

Titus and uncle Joseph having a light moment

He’s got penangite blood alright. So young sitting like apek beca.

This is a picture to keep. Titus and his great grandmother.

On an empty road, the man with the wheelchair sets the pace. Respect!

Standing on the crutches of the past

 

Standing on the crutches of the past

 

Herein stands this building,

majestic, proud, adamant.

Winking at its younger neighbors,

it holds is face up high.

Behold the garlands, the bays, the crest,

adorned with pride and hauteur.

 

 

But soon it becomes clear,

it is but a façade.

A remnant of a past zenith,

a veneer of a past glory.

Unable to stand on its own,

steel bars serve a walking stick.

 

 

Life behind the weathered frontage,

is nothing more than shrubbery.

The walls that housed life and fecundity,

now lie beneath the weeds.

All the tangible glory,

now exist in memory.

 

 

May my life not be as this building,

ending up as little more than a façade.

Fruitful in youth,

inutile when old.

Standing still on the crutches of the past,

reminiscing, with my back towards the finishing line.

– Gunaseelan

 

“Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. ” - Philippians 3:13,14

 

 

 

Standing on the crutches of the past by
Gunaseelan Krishnamoorthy is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

Facade by
Gunaseelan Krishnamoorthy is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.