Bless Me Before You Die

Bless me, O Banyan tree

Not a day have I missed

lighting a lamp at your feet

Your roots thirst for water

even as they rot beneath you.

Yet I come empty handed

seeking blessings from you.

I know you are dying.

Bless me before you go.

Let this tiny lamp 

light your final peace.

Somewhere nearby, an AC hums. 

A chainsaw waits for Monday. 

And a child wraps cloth around her face to ride to school in 48-degree heat.

The tree doesn't curse us. 

Neither do the birds that quietly vanish from its branches.

They sense what we don't. 

It just stops giving shade. 

Stops exhaling. 

Stops holding the soil together. Quietly. Without drama.

We call that development.

The lamp still flickers at its feet. 

Devotion intact. Conscience outsourced to God.

Is there a word for worshipping what you're destroying?

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The Music Between Two Hearts

That morning stayed with me.  

Not for the anniversary itself,  

but for what built it.

He, an army man.  

She, a homemaker.  

Surnames, mother tongues…

So much about them was different.  

Except their faith.

Not faith in religion or ritual,  

but in love, in trust, in respect.

A winter morning.  

Her voice drifted into the guest room

a song untouched by age.  

From the sit-out, he joined in.  

Her melody found his voice.

Forty years held together  

not by habit,  

but by music.  

A duet that smoothed the pauses,  

that chose harmony over solo.

What did I feel?  

Admiration?

Or was it jealousy?

Most couples share a roof.  

Rare ones share a rhythm.  

Where do you find yourself?

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The Power of Showing Up

We admire dramatic moments:

• The winning shot.
• The breakthrough idea.
• The grand romantic gesture.
• The overnight success.

We remember the highlight.

But not the numerous unseen repetitions behind it.

A child trusts the parent who keeps showing up.

A friendship endures because someone keeps reaching out.

A marriage grows because the partners keep choosing each other, 

long after the initial spark fades.

No single moment built any of that.

Repetition did.

Consistency exposes you.

Every repeated act leaves a trail.

Your habits, priorities, and character become visible.

And exposure cuts both ways.

Honest people prove predictably honest.

Reliable people stay predictably reliable.

Patterns build trust.

Rhythm builds mastery.

The question isn't whether you'll be consistent.

The question is: what will you be consistent about?

Blind consistency lays every card on the table.

The wise reveals only what deserves to be seen.

The joker in the card pack stays close to the chest.

Consistency rarely makes headlines.

It quietly builds trust, competence, and respect.

Long after talent exhausts itself and motivation fades, consistency remains:

Patient. Powerful. Pervasive.

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