Falling into grace

” Did you have a chance to have some breakfast beta? ” the uncle ji asked in his usual kind polite soft voice.


I guess this time around the devil is probably not in the details. I’ll skip right past it and the context would still hold well. Life and the many milestone dates that we set to it, for me it took me a step closer to questioning the existence of ‘ Grace ‘ . I armed myself with reasons both personal and kinda altruistic to keep the skeptic in me pampered. After all what was the point to building a case which told the story of why my grapes, and mine alone, were going sour every time. 

As time wore on, I picked a road of self-reliance and resilience to put me in the ring against such a grace. I was doing fine without it, or that’s what I chose to say. It didn’t matter to me anymore. Accountability and ownership of one’s actions does help that cause. The more I grew comfortable with the notion that I was the master of my universe and fewer firmer faith put into the grand scheme of things to be, I marched along. The proofs no longer mattered and I wasn’t interested in them either. 

Now that I think about it, it sure is funny that ” In a world that does not make sense, we fight tooth and nail disputing the ones that do make sense “

My decade long adoration to the phrase “Falling from grace ” has fuelled the storyteller in me. From plots that pitted man against God, to broken mortals braving a smile to rebel against the grand scheme of things to be, It was through fiction that I could muster the courage to carry on walking my path of isolation from grace. How could it matter? I’d question myself. If all of it were man made, why should one fall to one’s knees and refuse to stand up? I’d argue. 

They were just words. A ranting of man of confidence which was met by the words forged in faith. They were just words. The pointlessness to the arguments kept me distanced from what that mattered the most. Staying at peace, that warmth of assurance, the gentle touch of a mother to console the tears our eyes would flow. Yeah, the words kept me isolated from them all. 


Things are not the same. I guess I’m not the same either. I’m , at times, a stranger to sarcasm. I’d love to indulge in words of faith. I conspire to flow mindful amidst the stream of the grand scheme of things to be. The cynic in me is done. Tired of lies and answers which still do not bring me closer to a mind of calm. The changed year, the changed geography, the ransacked comforts of a comfort zone so gleefully lost in, I found myself hanging by a thought of hope. In a world that did not make sense, I stopped fighting tooth and nail trying to dispute the things that did make some sense. 

” Did you have a chance to have some breakfast beta? ” the uncle ji asked in his usual kind polite soft voice.

The Sunday caught me by surprised. I had an early start to the day and spent the morning catching cold winds in the city. I set out to find a new joint for a breakfast and my shoes carried me to the roads that I had no time for before. I found a musical instrument shop and food vs music, I had made my choice. And then the grand scheme of things to be kicked in. A quick call later, I was to move house that very morning. 

Annoyed at the lack of time to lose myself into music, I rushed back home to brave the chores. It was fun, setting up a house twice. Through the mad frenzy of ins and outs, the bloke who wanted to occupy my current house, his dad popped the question that made sense to him. Have you had breakfast yet? In his kind voice he enquired. 

And just like that, I was handed a few bits of raisins and almonds. It was what was left of his offering to the gods that morning. His god had found me in a form that I once so cherished. Reverently I stretched my palm and pocketed the dry fruits. It was a funny moment of sorts. I neither had a fond liking for dried fruits, nor have I let myself dwell into thoughts of grace. With the house moved, standing alone trying to catch a breather, I found myself staring at them raisins. 

I smiled a thankful smile of acknowledgement. I had fallen right into grace. To a teller of stories , it was nothing short of the miracles of the grand scheme of things to be. A silent gesture of kindness from the universe that I was along the right road, looked after and cared for. It was an assurance of sorts, that through the darkest of days and hardest of challenges, I could take comforts to knowing that I wasn’t going to be ever alone again.

The cynic in me managed a laugh. So now we are playing both sides, he teased. From one confirmation bias to another, I felt like a dazed chameleon mimicking an ocean of colours. 

As a thinker of thoughts that I tinker through thoughts, I’m glad that I found myself a little changed from before. I smiled and uttered to myself as a sign of strength, it was a statement of my resolve. 

In a world that does not make sense, we fight tooth and nail disputing the ones that do make sense

I decided to fight no more. Yeah, I’m going to let myself fall into grace. 


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