life. by puja
life is so beautiful,
when we see it like a mirror.
life is like a moving train,
life is like the showering rain,
life is a gift, accept it.
life is a promise, fulfill it.
life is a lovely dream,
life is a soft gentle stream.
life is a miracle of the Lrd,
life is a gift of Gd.
life is a collection of joy and sorrow.
but life is not a thing that we can borrow.
i think if i could describe her in one word, i would choose glowing. her features soft and the shape of her face round, she carries a gentle light in her eyes. she might tell you she’s far from confident, but when you’re in her presence there is ease in conversation and comfort in the silence. i met puja at community of nations chrch while living in mussoorie, india. i knew her voice long before i knew her story as she was one of the hindi translators in our service. her words, articulate and clear, told me of her journey to the Truth one afternoon in the spring.
i see an evidence of an independence in her spirit as we sit on the warm pavement. she tells me growing up, she wasn’t a ‘girly’ kind of girl like most are expected to be. when others are more concerned with knitting and cooking, she’d be found playing cricket with the boys. if given a choice, she’d choose the game field over the market place any day. though still in love with the outdoors, she’s put away her pig tails and play clothes; she’s a woman now. i often admire her salwar kamiz and the vibrancy of the colors she uses to cover herself. she loves to cook, often experimenting in the kitchen. ‘when i’m cooking, i worship Gd,’ a statement she never would have made two years ago. a lot of things are different now.
growing up, puja spent little time with her parents, who traveled for the military, living instead with her grandparents. in hindi, her name means ‘an act worship’ and is a word uttered billions of times a day around this hindu world. in a country where hundreds of thousands of gods exist she had no problem accepting J-sus as one of them, ‘why not? another one could always help.’ however, when she was sixteen, she saw this J-sus was far different from the rest.
if you’ve ever wondered if there is a spiritual battle out there, if you’ve ever questioned the forces of the demonic, just talk to puja. you see, this sweet, innocent and gentle indian was once overcome and controlled by something else beyond the physical world. plagued with constant fear, she would burst into fits of rage, throwing things and every member of her body around while shaking uncontrollably. she couldn’t talk in these moments, she couldn’t express what was within. she shows me her arms and the places where there should be scars from her attempt to end the suffering. she’ll tell you now she’s thankful she wasn’t successful, ‘suicide is never an option.’
her little sister had begun attending a chrn chrch with a friend and for reasons she can’t explain, she joined them one week, ‘it was a holy place. the demon within me couldn’t stay in that holy place.’ after much pr’yer and petition the strongholds were loosened and she began to experience freedom unlike she had never known before. though the bondage was broken, change has not been an overnight process. But it has been deep. she has surrendered every corner of her heart to a Gd who doesn’t control His followers by fear, but offers love unconditionally and provides life when only death can be found.
her family believes in ‘her’ Gd, they’ve seen the change. she and her sister are still the only ones who trust, but she cannot deny the power of pryer. ‘someday,’ she says with soft confidence. she’s learned to write poetry and express what used to be hidden through drawing. another year of school and she’ll begin pursuing training in computers and communication; it’s the responsible thing to do. but her heart’s desire?
‘i want to continue translating, learn to preach, and pr healing for others. i
want to tell my story because it glorifies Gd.‘
mussoorie the queen. by puja
mussoorie is a queen of the mountains, said his own story.
higher, higher mountains,
deeper, deeper secrets,
if we saw them like the mother of nature.
all religious people live here together,
id, diwali and christmas are celebrated together.
if we said, ‘here are so many colors in the house of the queen.
come and see company, kempty and gunhill.
when snow falls in the mountains, the view looks so beautiful,
we feel so cold but our heart wants to see the view.’
these are the small stories of this queen.
not receiving but giving to people is her identity.
so we say, mussoorie is the queen of the mountains,
mussoorie is the queen of the mountains.
