The scars...

When I was at school, every student had his own handy diary. It was a combination of an identity card and other student related information. There used to be an Identification section on the main page. I used to find it hard to fill in because of the lack of a unique mole or a scar in my body. However one fine day, I had a cut in my eyebrow when I was playing cricket and there came a scar. From then onwards 'A scar on the right eyebrow' used to be my first identification mark in my diary for many years.

Scars are not painful but it can bring back memories of a day where you would have wriggled with pain. Sometimes the scar tells you to be thankful to God that you escaped with little injuries. Some scars are scary. They also sometimes grab someone's attention and sometimes strangers are curious to know how the scar happend. Every scar has a story like the one I have.

Some months ago, I was playing Table tennis at a nearby club in The Netherlands. After an hour's training session, I crashed tired in the bench along with my clubmates. Next to me sat a sexagenarian. Suddenly his eyes rolled towards my thigh and being curious he called me. When I looked at him, I realized he was looking at the deep scar on my right thigh, which was accidently visible.

"You seem to have a pretty big scar" He remarked and before I could react, he continued "It looks like a knife mark. Did you ever get into a fight with somebody ?". I sat there stunned for a moment.

I have never looked at the scar in those terms. It has always reminded me to be greatful that God saved me from a deadly accident. However the preconceived questions shattered me to a large extent. I responded to it by saying that it was an accident and continued with the accident story focussing more on the part where I was a helpless victim of a careless driving. I did it to earn my sympathy and change the minds of the people who have misjudged me.

The more I think about these events, the crucifixion of Jesus becomes such a reality to me.

Thinking about a person who went about doing good, healing the sick, raising the dead and giving sight to the blind, now being condemned to death on a cross.

The only person who sympathized with him saying "He has done no wrong" was a person who hung with Him on the other cross. His own followers ran away from Him. All the leaders mis-understood Him and wrongly judged Him and condemned Him.

Isaiah 53, a chapter which I used to read daily, when in the hospital says about Jesus: "He was oppressed and afflicted, yet He did not open His mouth; Like a lamb that is led to the slaughter and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so He opened not His mouth".

The victorious resurrection says it all that there is hope because His followers turned bold again. Still the scars remain and forever they say how much You love me[Mercy Me.]

The Switch

"I am really sorry that I am giving you all so much trouble. There are about 6 Nurses needed to lift me up in order to give me my daily wash"  I apologized to the Nurses in the hospital bed. I felt very embarrassed every time I had to call the nurses for very simple routine things I couldn't do. It started from requesting for my toothbrush to brush my teeth to asking them to help me with going to the toilet. It was the hardest thing for me to ask help for simple things while being bed ridden.

The 'daily wash' was something that I feared the most everyday. It was a nighmare, being lifted up for a few moments, while being held carefully by human hands before the sheets on the mattress were being changed. The short displacement caused immeasurable pain. It was about 4 days after the accident and the wounds were still fresh and the whole body was in terrible pain as a result of the shock. I can very well remember the moment when I had to be operated for the third time. 

"Please do not lift me again. Just knock me out(by giving anesthesia) and continue with moving me to the operation table". I pleaded with the anesthesiologist at the operation theather as I felt they were in short of people to lift me. They had only 4 extra people and I definitely needed 6 people to lift me up.. She agreed and I loved counting 1,2 and 3 before being knocked into a deep long sleep. 

The doctors and nurses often poured out their heartfelt sympathies. It definitely increases the gentleness by which you are handled when you are considered as an unlucky and helpless victim of a traffic accident in a foreign country. Sympathies from friends and family who supported me in every way. Sympathies from the police, the lawyer and the colleagues were really touching.  The beautiful 'Get well' cards sent to the hospital by thoughtful church friends, flowers sent by colleagues added to the thought that you are loved. There were relatives who shed some tears on the telephone. Everyone wanted to see you back on track, hale and healthy.

Soon the sympathies became my way of life. I loved hearing the sympathetic words again and again. Soon my heart was tuned on to recieving them. I started getting used to the soft, loving, gentle and heartfelt words from all the people I met. No one shouts at you if you drop a glass of water. I need not fear being late for appointments whereas the nurses looking after me had to make sure that I was on time for the X-ray sessions, appointments with specialists and to make sure I was smart enough to take on visitors. They wake you up if an operation was scheduled to be in the early morning hours. There was no sense of responsibility needed. After all I was a patient. It did not seem like a real world that I was living in.

I felt that once sympathy gets a grip on you, the feeling creates a small sympathetic world around you. The difficulty was evident when once outside the hospital I happened to hear a rude remark. It was difficult for me to swallow. The switch was difficult for me not only because I had got used to hearing nice words but also because the outside world did not know I had undergone a serious accident. While on the road, I am very careful while driving. I try to maintain eye contact a couple of times with the driver of the other vehicle before I proceed. I dont trust the other vehicles easily, so at times the other road users are a bit frustrated, seeing that I am a bit late in my reflexes.

The switch started gaining pace when I flew back from Netherlands to India. Midway on the flight, I had got out of my seat to get to the restroom. When I came back, I saw the air hostess standing with the food trolly in the middle of the pathway. I waited for about a couple of minutes before asking her politely if I could cross over to my place which was just a seat away.

"Please wait till I clear, sir" came the reply. It took me some moments before I could digest it and treat it as a normal reaction.

"Well, Yes! I understand that you have to complete your work but..... I have had an accident so please be a bit courteous to me" is what I went through my mind as I stood there, standing while waiting for her to clean up. 

I found out that a weird feeling had entered my head meanwhile. I had become impatient trying to misuse the sympathy I was used to having, when I was sick. Having become completely normal physically, I was trying to create a fuss about the 5 minute wait. It was  my clinging on to my sympathetic feeling that made me feel more hurt rather than treating it as a normal reaction. 

These days, there is a feeling that the switch is almost done. After all its been more than a month after I joined work. No more lazy mornings when I used to get up at 9:30 in the morning and felt that the world doesn't need me that day, so I tucked back into bed and stayed asleep till midday. Now with a bit of responsibility I try to get up before 6 in the mornings and begin the day afresh. It is a different life altogether as the life of sympathy has been replaced by a sense of responsibility. I am glad that the switch is done but love to keep in touch with the world that needs..... sympathy.

The old women at the wayside

"Mummy, I forgot to take my mobile. Can you please bring it down?" I shouted as I ran down the stairs to start my motorbike to get going to work. After all it was a monday morning and I had hopes of getting into a new project. Being very curious about the developments, I wanted to get quickly as possible to office and check my e-mails. Swiftly starting my motorbike, and keeping my cell phone in my trouser pocket, I thought I had all the necessary things needed to get to work. Little did I know that I had forgotton my company id card which was mandatory at work.

The traffic was heavy as usual. I live close to several IT companies and it is normal for the roads to be busy. I somehow managed to take a U turn and get to the other side of the road. I was now ready to take on the entire stretch from Karapakkam to Shols. Karapakkam is where I live nowadays and Shols is where I work. Suddenly I noticed that I missed something. I brought my motorbike to a halt along the sidepath and decided to call my dad this time, to bring my id card. I thought of walking home, taking the foot overbridge to cross the road. The idea was that I could meet my dad halfway through.

I got down on the other side of the road. There are many possibilities of getting home and I took a left turn, one that I hardly take and started walking swiftly. At the end of the turn, there was something that caught my eye. A old lady sleeping on the side of the road. She resembled a bag of bones with a thin saree covering her from the top of her head to her legs. She had no pillow as her head and she laid crumpled on the ground.I met my dad half way through, took my id card and shared with him what I just saw.

I went back the same way and decided to give her some money. "Grandmother", I called her 3 times. She rolled the layers of saree from her head and looked at me. I tried to force my money to her hand. She did not seem interested but a little while later she took and hid it in her saree. I felt like she said she wanted something to drink. I did not have water, so I called my mom to check if it was possible to get some water. Then I left back to work with a sad heart.

After keeping a watch on her for quite a few hours, folks at home noticed that she did not not move from that place. When a background check was done on her, the nearby shop owner told that she had been lying there for the past 4 days. It sounded unfair. It had been raining heavily and sometimes it had been extremely warm. Who can survive in such weather conditions without food and shelter for so many days? She looked helpless. No one to care for her and no one to love her.There lay a packet of leftovers nearby her, probably someone had given her something to eat and she could not take it in. Vulnerability written all over!

Quickly, it was found that there is a home for the destitutes called "Little drops" in the outskirts of chennai. My brother dropped in to the police station to get a certificate(Memo) stating the reason why she needs to get into a destitute home. With help from other friends, she was helped into the back seat of the car where she lay down tired and weary.

It was decided in the late afternoon to drive her to the destitue home. I joined the ride being back from work. The old women began to talk as soon as she reached there. The staff working there told us that it normally happens that destitutes who hardly open the mouth to strangers start talking as soon as they enter into that home. Amazing! My name is alamelu, she said. It was a sigh of relief to know that she could understand and talk Tamil. Her rags were thrown away and she was given clean clothes. She got a bed to lay her head down and sleep. She need not fear for the weather conditions or food anymore. Wow! Thats hope written all over. She is safe. It doesn't matter if someone has left her on the streets to die helplessly or if she had mental problems. Although many people think its the former, however one thing is sure, she is loved, loved by God.

Just once more...

I admired my grandfather a lot. His strong faith combined with the purity and the simplicity of life in a tiny remote village, attracted me. Last year, I went to visit him at his village near Tiruchendur, Tamil Nadu. where he was bedridden. Grandfather(99) had lost his memory and could not remember anything. Added to that, he had an itchy skin eruption which kept troubling him very much, not allowing him to sleep. He had been suffering from it for a long time but he had difficulty communicating it. He just kept scratching it, till sometimes it bled. Since there were no doctors in the village, one of my cousins, being a doctor prescribed an ointment to apply on his body. I offered to apply it, and ignorantly used my bare hands to apply it on his body.

After staying with him for some days, I had to fly back to NL to work on a new project. After a couple of weeks of my landing in NL, I happend to get an unknown itchy skin problem and it disturbed me a lot. I initially thought that it had to do with the weather change and did not take it seriously. Days passed by and within some weeks, unexpectedly, I found myself in the hospital recovering from my bicycle accident. When the pain relating to my accident began to diminish, I started feeling the itchy skin problem in my body rise. I told the doctors about my problem but since it had nothing to do with the accident, it was not taken seriously and thus was ignored.

I had obtained enough strength to leave the hospital and go to the next recovery step, The Rehabilitation Centre. Since the itchy problem became unbearable at that time, I elaborately spoke about it to the doctors, whom I was introduced to. The dermatologist was called and it was found that I had contacted a contagious skin infection called scabies, from my grandpa. It is not at all dangerous but an irritating infection . It is contagious, if skin contact is made for more than 15 continuous minutes. Immediately, I was under isolation for a couple of days to make sure the skin problem does not spread to other people and was also treated at the same time. After that, I was free to move about in my wheelchair. The isolation was hurting but as it was just for a couple of days I found it reasonably bearable. The health department was informed and the hospital where I was treated was informed as well. Eventhough no one was infected, preventive tablets were given to the doctors and nurses who handled me in the hospital to make sure that the skin infection does not spread.

Later that week in The Rehabilitation Centre, I developed another complicated infection, this time it was related to my accident and thus had to be transferred again to the hospital for observation. Even though I had been given the green signal to move freely in my wheelchair, back in the hospital I was put under isolation again, for 'precautionary reasons'. It was one of the very few times during the recovery traject, when I felt depressed.

I felt like throwing my arms up and saying - 'I quit'. Here I was recovering from a physical accident, and the physcological hurt was like insult being added to the injury. I had full respect for the medical people who helped me and strongly had the intention that the skin infection should never pass to anyone else, however the feeling of being un-necessarily isolated was mentally depressing. "I dont have the skin infection any more as per The Revalidation Centre", I complained but in vain. No one shook hands with me. People feared to come near and talk to me. Seeing the other patients in the same room being treated in a different way than I was treated, hurt me badly. The nurses attending on me had gloves and all the protective jackets on which made me feel down. The nurses held the conversations short. I was not allowed to get out from bed, not go to toilet, not allowed to bathe and everything had to be in bed. I cried 'It's not fair'.

At that time, one of the doctors offered me help from the psychologist. I thanked him for the offer but polietly refused it. I however placed my problems in God's care through prayer and found strength. This went on for the next 5 days, after which I was free to move in my wheelchair again. What a relief it was? Unexplainable. I smiled, 'I am Free'. My 'I quit' slogen then turned to 'I resume fighting'.

Who would believe me if I said that I have recovered through a serious accident without a tear or psycological hurt? While this incident was unfolding, there was a tendency to step back or think again before offering a help in the future. After that it was reassuringly evident 'Learn the lesson, leave the hurt behind and dare to take risks again to help others eventhough some may turn back to haunt you.' Grandpa, a strong believer in eternal life, in the meanwhile passed away and went on to be with Jesus. I am so glad I did help him then.

Having said this, I also admit that I got a lot of help from unexpected quarters during the time of recovery. Friends that I knew from the Bethel only for a short while came to see me almost every week. Wijnand and Rosine, Christel, Hans, Cathelijne, Willine and Willem-Jan, Gerhard and the other families, some of whom din't know anything about me! As the time ticks on, a smile appears on my face, as the thought of getting back home kicks in. However one thing is sure, when I leave, I sure will leave with a heavy heart.

Its beginning to sink in...

I woke up early this morning only to find my mood excited. A quiet home on a normal day was filled with me, singing and praising in a loud jubiliant mood to such an extent that I had to close a curtain in my house to avoid sending any kind of wrong signals to my neighbour . Worship songs were filling the air. Gratitude started sinking in. One of my friends called me yesterday evening and said I have reached a milestone in my life, so it was indeed a joyous moment.

What is it actually thats making me happy? After 10 months, my catheter is removed. So that means that there are no temporary tubes in my body and it is more flexible. Well, there is still a metal plate but I like it as it keeps my hip strong. Indeed, a great reason to be thankful to God.

I have been thinking that its been one step at a time. Right from the initial I.C.U days, I loved to see the improvement of being moved to the medium care unit and then to the normal nursing unit. After that, it was joyous to see one by one the temporary support and the needles in my body being removed. Then what a moment it was to sit in the bed after lying down for a long time. The shift from the hospital to the revalidation centre was relieving. Moving about in a wheelchair for a couple of months and then walking with the help of walker and then with crutches and finally being discharged home. Going to the physio and then slowly walking and strengthening my knee and further beginning to ride a bicycle. The wait to be helped for the urethra problem took some time but it helped me complete my Dutch as second language diploma.

The other things that kept me busy were the Judicial activities, communicating with the lawyer and Insurance company, learning swimming, playing table tennis, my dutch course and the voluntary work with the church office. I was very much interested into the cause of the accident that I got a copy of the Police report and a detailed 60 page accident analysis report. I don't have pictures of myself photografed in so many different angels but my broken bicycle has been the centre of research for detailed analysis.

"I cannot believe that you are walking now" said the Police officer who did the investigation for the accident.

"We could not have saved him, but he had such a resilience power otherwise he would not have survied." said one of the doctors to my house owner who came to visit me in the hospital in the initial days.

The accident was categorized as an accident causing death or serious physical injury.

It sounds a bit gloomy when the word 'death' is involved but what a joy and hope it is to read 1 corinthians 15:55 "O death, where is thy sting. O grave where is thy victory". Jesus said "Because I live, you also shall live". Its a beautiful life and I am going to live, live for Jesus Christ.

Prayers at a moment when you know that the pendulum can swing both ways!

There is nothing better than being in the company of a person who is hurt and neglected, sick and helpless, lonely, misunderstood or dying. I happened to know that friends back in Chennai and Pune did exactly the same when I read a chain e-mail titled "Subject: Israel - in coma - needs our prayers" It was written by Infy fellowship friends in Pune and the passed on to friends in Chennai, a day after my accident. It shook me on reading the mail to an extent that my eyes became moist and heavy. It was a urgent request to pray for me. Who would have thought that I would be in such a situation when I came to Netherlands, about a year ago ?

Well its true that unexpected events do happen. But the most difficult part is to comprehend the fact that a person lives no more. I have personally witnessed a tragic accident at S.P.Koil railway station about 5 years ago, Chennai when an Infy colleague was run over by a train while crossing the tracks. The other sight was the friend of the victim, in great trauma and shouting unable to accept the possibility of loosing a friend, just a second ago. I, along with some colleagues waited for all the compartments of the train to pass by before we could have a look at the tracks for the victim. We shook our heads in disbelief as we saw the body lying scatterd. After helping the body into the stretcher of the ambulance, It hurt to think about the plight of the loved ones who would miss her.

I, as a regular train traveller then made a decision that I would never ever cross the tracks but would always use the overbridge even if the pedestrian overbridge was unsafe with dirt, filth, without lights or suspicious people. To be honest, I could not keep that promise, when later after getting off the train in Tambaram Sanatorium station, I walked a few steps to use the foot underground bridge. What I saw was a knee deep water that was stinking with filth and urine. If I wanted to keep to my promise, I would have to wade through the stinking water. I broke my promise and ended up crossing the railway tracks. It was funny as I read a warning message further, which said something like: "Please Use pedestrians footpath. Trespassers will be prosecuted". Ah, its an unreasonable warning.

In Netherlands, after a point in time(aftering being caught for driving without cycle lights), I decided to strictly follow the traffic lights to the best of my ability. Even if it was an empty road and no one is to be seen, I decided to wait for the traffic lights to show me when to move. Does strictly following traffic rules assure you of no accidents? No. On the other hand, not obeying traffic rules definitely increases the chances of an accident. After all, to err is human! Everything happens for a reason and everything works together for good to them that love God (Romans 8:28).

Its amazing to read that friends pray for me and want me to see me back to normal. I am really extremely thankful for such friends. The more longing it stirs up within me to get back home and show them that I am doing good. They are such a blessing. I noticed that the more deep it gets, to show appreciation and greatfulness to a person for an unexpected love or sympathetic attitude, mustering all the feelings and emotions within me I say "God bless you!"

'Jezus' - een roep om hulp of een vloek?

There are some difficult incidents in life that linger around in one's mind for a long time. It can sometimes be a choice in life, which you later seem to regret or an unchosen accident, which makes you feel unsecure. However trusting in God and having the assurance deep down inside that 'God knows' and 'Jesus christ has himself gone through suffering, so He understands' has made a difference to me in trusting God and it has helped me in coping with my situation.

Moreover, there are a few happenings, few seconds after my accident that stand out in my thoughts. One was the shock of experiencing the bus coming towards me and before I could react I am helplessly thrown under the bus. While under the bus, you helplessly watch the bus continuously accelerating forward and towing the already crushed cycle under its front wheels before it comes to a halt.

The other thing that stands out was my conscious reaction immediately after the bus came to a halt. It was quite interesting as I spoke to one of the employees at 'De Amersfoortse Verzekering' in Amersfoort today(which would eventually be the reason for this blog). Even though I have not worked with her, she spoke to me kindly, after recognizing that I was the person who had the accident 9 months ago. We started speaking in English before I looked for an opportunity to switch to Dutch. Within a few moments, she said that one of her family members was also in the bus and she seemed to have seen me lying under the bus. Interested further, I asked her to say more about that moment and what she felt. The next thing she told me, which was shared to her by the family member, made me stop and think.

"Hij was boos en hij kon goed vloeken in het Nederlands". (He was angry and could swear easily in dutch). This sentence may not literally be correct but boos (translated as angry) and vloeken (translated as a swear word) were mentioned exactly. I rolled my thoughts and immeditely it caught upon the conscious words I uttered "Jezus, ik kan niet tegen"(Jesus, I cannot bear this).

I told her "I did use the name Jesus but not as a swear word because I am a believer I dont swear, It was a cry for help". She immediately told me that it was made to affirm that my Dutch is good and not meant otherwise. We went to talk about different other things and finished our conversation.

I started thinking in my ride back home about how easily a stereotype can be made. Well, I thought, it was a desperte cry from within me for help in pain. Psalms 120:1 says "In my distress I cried out to God and He heard me". It was meant in that manner. I dont recollect being angry but desperate in pain and crying out to God for help in a situation that I did not expect.

Just moving away from the conversation and the incident, something that makes me sad often is the concept of swearing. 'Jezus Christus'(Jesus Christ) as a swear word is often used by a lot of people in the western world. During those times as well, the Bible says he was spit upon, beaten and rejected (Mark 15:19). But, I have heard my grandfather whisper the sweet name 'Jesus' over and over again when he was bedridden, some months before his death when I visited him. I have seen people being delivered and set free at His name. People getting healed. The name still has power and is powerful but It definitely is painful to hear it as a swear word.

P.S: Title translated in English ('Jesus' - A call for help or a swear word)

What is it about forgiveness?

Gladys Staines is a person, whom I follow closely. I hardly knew her until a moment 12 years back, on 22nd January 1999 when I read the headlines of a newspaper with the title "I forgive the killers!". This statement came at a moment when her husband and two little children were burnt alive whilst sleeping in his station wagon in a shocking and devastating incident

The thought of forgiveness however is not new to me. What do you hear every year in a 3 hour long good friday service in Chennai? Its forgiveness in the first place. Its one of the 7 statements that Jesus made on the cross "Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing." Luke 23:34. However Gladys choose to do it and not just be satisfied hearing it.

When some reporters asked her how she found it in herself to forgive the killer, she replied Jesus Christ had forgiven my crimes and He also commands us to forgive each other. It was a spontaneous thing. It wasn't something I had to work up, It just came. Courtesy OutlookIndia.

Well to be honest, the forgiveness of Gladys staines was lingering in my thoughts for a long time. Its something I wanted to do as well. But on the other hand, there were sometimes I had to ask other people's forgiveness. It was because I had hurt them or I had wrongly judged other people. Many times I (still) ask forgiveness to God in prayer.

When I came out of my coma 2 days after the accident in the ICU, seeing my legs fixed to an iron apparatus and all the tubes and the drains in my legs I thought I could never ever walk in my life and would be confined to a wheelchair. Its quite interesting to note that even at that time "I forgive" was the first thing that came into my mind on my reaction to my accident. It was indeed a spontaneous thing. I was quite happy that I was able to show that when the bus owner came to meet me and gave him a 'Bible', where forgiveness is shown to be handed over to the bus driver. Its one of the beautiful qualities that I am thankful to God for. Having said this I am also thankful to God that at this moment I can walk fast and also jog a small distance .

Exactly 12 years after the incident, Gladys says "I hold no bitterness towards killers." It is remarkable. Honestly it involves a lot of tears, in the background. Patience and forgiveness is needed everyday. Forgivess is amidst the pain, crying and wrestling inside, you give love in return. When there is no bitterness but love, it helps personally as well. It has helped me recover faster from the tragedy!

Who is to blame ?

Life after a Trauma has taught me to relate with everything related to justice and pain in a better way. One of the important things I do is try to put if's and if not's to the situation I have experienced and try to get answers out of them. It helps me be greatful and thankful on the positive side and know that on the other side there are people who have had not been lucky like me. It gives me a perspective about the unlucky side and at least force myself to get into action to do any kind of help. Of course, these are heavy incidents but it can definitely be a learning experience. If its true that "Loved people love other people" and "Hurt people hurt other people"then definitely "Helped people will help other people".

What about help?

I was diverted from looking at a video on facebook and further browsing on to a video about a Sub Inspector of Police, Tirunelveli, Tamil Nadu who was killed in an brutal incident early January last year when gangsters attacked him. The incident took place when two elected leaders of the state were going in a convoy. The video showed two things which caught my eye. One was the police man desperately crying for help and bleeding, when no one(including the minsiters) dared to come in and help with several people still sitting in their cars. The second was a man trying to give water from a bottle to the dying man standing at a distance fearing he may touch him. It

Ah I thought, I was also in a similar but less severe situation about 7 months ago. One of the Police investigators said that they have taken pictures of the accident and it was a horrible sight where I was. However there was a lady at the accident site who helped me, spoke with me and not at a distance fearing she may be contaminated. There was a person who called the ambulance immediately and there were doctors who immediately helped me.

The first few minutes after the trauma are important and people being helped immediately or being given access to medical help can be saved.

Even though I believe God gives life (Gen 1:26) and sustains it, He also uses people to practically help on the way. If I think about the unlucky incident I read, the learning could be to have compassion on those people and try to understand and move forward to help.

What about justice?

On a particular saturday afternoon I recieved a letter from my lawyer stating a claim from the bus driver "He got several signals from other cyclists to go ahead and thus he went ahead resulting in the fact that I was run over. In other words, there were fellow cyclists that were waiting for the bus to passby and I was the person who ignored and did not stop". I was shocked and it was a devastating feeling. Till that point everyone, including bus owner said that it was the fault of the Bus. I started rolling my thoughts to the day of the incident in my mind to check if there was any slight indication of the possibility of cyclists waiting. "I could clearly see myself in the cycle and the bus waiting at the side, and it was normal I thought because I had voorrang and to strengthen my feeling there were also 2 cyclists coming from the other direction but there was no cyclist waiting on my side or the other". Whose version can be true, I thought and thought. Finally I wrote a persuasive reply for the letter recieved and I just calmed myself down.

In a couple of weeks, surprisingly I met a unknown vistor in the Physiotherapy changing room. He seemed to know me and immediately started a conversation.

"Hey! were you the one under the bus in Amersfoort", the person asked.

"Yes" "How do you know that ?" I said

"I am the investigator from the Police side who investigated your case."

"What brings you here" I asked

"I have a smal knee problem" he replied

"Oh, thats a pity" I said

"Dont worry, Its much smaller than yours. By the way, what about your case?"

"Well, Its going on but the bus driver claims that cyclists were waiting when the accident happened" I said

"No, there were no cyclists waiting. You had voorrang and it was clear from the video of the bus that it was a careless mistake from the bus driver's part"

"We have given it in writing long ago and I am surprised that it still is not solved. Please keep me updated about it" He said

I immediately thanked him and it was a huge sigh of relief. Well, in my case the bus video was a witness but it just made me think about the various unsolved/unjudged cases in various parts of the world. Where will they get their justice?

2 Corinthians 5:10 says " For we must all appear before the judgement seat of Jesus Christ, that each of us may recieve what is due us, for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad"