Another life

This morning Mr. Washim came to see Sheba.

Mr. Washim is one of our friends with HIV whom we are on long-standing. He and his wife have been through so many ups and downs. They have 3 children - and we just found out last month that the little 2 year old is not HIV positive: a major answer to prayer since they had tried to abort her when they found out about the pregnancy in the first place.

Last year Mrs. Washim got her tubes tied.

Yesterday night she was taken to a local doctor because she had severe abdominal pain. She was given a simple pain killer and charged a hefty sum and sent to another hospital for admission.

The doctor told Mr. Washim this morning that she is pregnant - the family planning operation she had last year seems to have failed.

We don't know the details yet - but this would be a text-book case for an abortion. Two HIV positive parents. Unstable job. Past debts. A child who has HIV already and has delayed milestones. Two younger children. And now another one on the way.

Though we do not know whether this really is a pregnancy - we do know something. As crazy as the situation seems - this child deserves a life.

I know what I am talking about because in 1941 when abortion on demand was not available, a woman living in South India, who had had an affair with an army officer went to a mission hospital to give birth to her child. She left the hospital without the baby - having given him for adoption - and went on to live her life.

Today that baby has grown up to be my father. I thank God that Ray Eicher was not aborted in 1941.

Phillumeny

One of Dad's endearing (and at times exhasperating) habits is to pick up matchboxes from the ground. As kids we just loved finding different kinds of labels, and soon we got a pretty big collection going. Dad continues to keep an eye open for new and interesting labels.

Match box collecting (a.k.a. Phillumeny) offers an amazing look into cultures by way of those little rectangles packed with bright pictures and text. Indian matchboxes display a huge range of images, ranging from the patriotic to the cute to the slightly bizarre. As kids we loved the series of trains and wild animals that Wimco (Western Indian Match Company) made.

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A special joy is to see the way that matchbox makers subtly try to copy each other - with often hilarious results (see the picture for example).

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When we were small - the 'Ship' brand was the market leader in Bombay. This position led to numerous knock-offs with names like 'Shape' and 'Sheep' etc.
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While in Mussoorie Dad gave us a lovely book called "Matchbook" by Shahid Dantawalla. It is a beautiful and at times rib-tickling collection of matchboxes the author has collected. The book itself is made to look like a matchbox - complete with the book itself sliding out of a matchbox-like cover. Makes me wish I had thought of a project like this myself!

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I am really, really tempted to start collecting again.

Twilight years

We often think about HIV as a disease of the young. And it by and large is. Young adults between 30-35 years old are the main people we work with here in Thane.

But there are also others.

Last week three young men came to the clinic with their mother. Sheba assumed one of them had HIV and had come to talk about it. It wasn't that at all. They had come to show their mother to Sheba.

Last year their father died. Then over the last 6 months their mother was hospitalised. Thrice. The most recent admission included an HIV test. She is positive.

It was - and continues to be - a total shock to these men. To speak nothing of the elderly lady herself.

At a meeting yesterday with leaders from our local churches we talked briefly about how so many are afraid of old age. How much we need to bless and help our elderly experience a glorious sunset - and hope into the next and most glorious stage of their lives.

Spare a prayer for elderly people with HIV. May their twilight be glorious.

Ambition: starting early

When does the rat race actually start? Pretty early it seems.

We got a call today after Asha came home from school. It was from a girl in her class who lives in our housing complex. She said that by mistake Asha's school diary had got into her bag, and she and her mother were coming over to give it.

When the lady brought her daughter to the door with the diary - it was clear that they were not just going to hand over the book and leave. A barrage of questions were fired out: how does Asha study? is she good in her studies? does she go to tuitions? what books does she use? what does Sheba do? who teaches Asha? and on and on.

Here is the rub. Its quite possible that this lady told her child to put Asha's diary in her bag on purpose - in order to open the door.

No proof of course - only the mother's overwhelming presence and pushy nature - but not at all outside the realm of possibility.

Welcome to the world of success - is it any surprise that people follow the dictum of "you got to step on a lot of heads to get to the top!"

How different from: Godliness with contentment is great gain!

Family

May 4th 2008 seems a long way away now - maybe a different century? But there we are - both sets of parents with and the kids (and Victor and Sarah's daughter Joanna to boot) on the terrace of Shanti Kunj in Mussoorie.

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We are amazingly blessed with two sets of parents who pray for us every day - and that too many times. Who have sacrificed much for us. Somehow the conversation with Asha and Enoch turned to how we could pay back our parents for all they did for us - the fact is - we can't. Never. Perhaps the only step forward to this is to be the best parents we can to our kids. Love is not rent.

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Our heart aches to be away from our loved ones so long. Right now we have a total diaspora going on:

(1) Mum and Dad in Mussoorie,

(2) Amma and Appa just outside Vishakapatnam,

(3) Victor, Sarah and Joanna in Delhi,

(4) Stefan, Neeru and Ashish in Delhi (its Ashish's 2nd birthday anniversary today!),

(5) Premi in the UK - but due to arrive in India first week of July,

(6) Peter, Yashmeet and Anmol in Kenya,

(7) Ramesh, Daisy and Frankie in the US

(8) Rudy, Aneng, Kimi, Timmy and Renata in the US (but spread out from Hawaii to Virginia)

(9) and of course so many others who are part of the extended Shanti Kunj family....

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How to get everyone together? What a paradox to have so many we love so far away. Its part of the existential sorrow we have - but one that we must work through - and which perhaps helps us to cherish the opportunities that we do have to meet up all the more.

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Our aches point us in the right direction though - we are not meant to be alone - apart. If we did not ache something would be wrong. We look foward to a time when we will all be together. Its not a pie in the sky thought either, but a reality worth living towards.

Another death

Mr. Carl died last Sunday.

No happy end to the tale - or so it seems.

Mrs. Carl was crying uncontrollably.

How do we bring hope into what seemed a hopeless situation? We don't want to be false and glib - at the same time, we know that the love of God is more powerful than any circumstances we know.

Weep with those who weep...

Orange tears

Early this morning 4 Eichers dressed in various orange articles of clothing (and an old orange clown nose on the pater familias) made their way on the Black Beauty - our Honda scooter - through the deserted roads of Thane. What were we doing out at 12 AM? Off to see a football match of course! Holland vs. Russia. Euro 08 quarterfinal action - on a Saturday night - an experience for Enoch and Asha to see a full football match for the first time. So where better than the home of Thane's football fan No 1 - Joshua Jayakar and his sister Juanita.

What is it about football that stirs such a deep passion in people? It has to be more than just 22 players and an air-filled sphere. I think part of it is the deep desire to be part of a struggle. We are created to relish excellence - and have a deep appreciation for that which is superb. To have the very best of the best playing it out in a hard-fought exciting contest allows us to taste a piece of beauty that our hearts yearn for.

The other part of it is a desire to belong to something bigger than we are. We crave to belong. We are not meant to be alone - and in a time of deep distrust in most institutions (including for many the church) sporting teams offer an identity which binds people together. The Dutch players played the game with a black band - to express solidarity with one of their defenders who lost a prematurely born girl 3 days before. The fans decided to sing 'you'll never walk alone' before the game to express their feelings to this man and his family. Where do you find this in the atomised world that most inhabit. Football (replace this with almost any other large-scale sporting event) offers more than athleticism and excellence - in a strange way it offers the hope of family.

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So down to the match. Ah the heartbreak. Our dear Dutch heroes have done what they excel in once again: play the beautiful game in an exciting and dominating fashion in the first part of a competition - only the be booted out in the quarter or semi-finals. Early this morning (for us here in Thane) it was Russia's turn to shine. And for orange tears to fall around the stadium (and also for some Thane supporters as you can see from the shot of Juanita and Asha).

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There is something sublime to seeing men run at top speeds, controlling the ball as if it was stuck to their feet, sharing it between themselves in total contest against another group of talented and detremined players. This morning belonged to the beautiful feet of Andrei Arshavin. The speed of the man. Amazing. With all the skills the Dutch have between them - it was the Russians who were making the difference. Only Edwin Vande Saar's brilliance kept the score within sight. Just as it looked the Russians were close to a famous victory with their 1 goal lead - the old orange workhorse of Ruud Van Nistelrooy managed to put his head in and score a beautiful goal 4 minutes from full time. We were given another 1/2 hour of paisa vasool action as Holland and Russia ran the ball to each other's goal - with Russia coming up trumps - twice! The final one deservedly coming of Andrei Arshavin's boot.

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If only our dear Indian footballers could be one 10th as skillful as these two teams! We left Joshua and Juanita's home having shed a few silent orange tears - but fully satisfied with a feast of football - and took the Black Beauty back home through the 3 AM streets of Thane!