Of a place not-so-divine !!

I was asked this past Sunday by my Pastor to visit a prominent non-Pentecostal Church in Chennai to attend a Choir singing service. I considered it an unique request since, we as a fellowship are not quite tolerant about other forthright liberal or toned down neo-conservative ways of worship which dilute the essence of the scriptures, since "cold" and "luke-warm" are thermal states that do not find divine acceptance. But, I gathered that the request was only to draw-up a comparative study of the sound, light, seating and orchestral arrangements in other Christian services in relation to ours' to contemplate possible improvements. So, as I readied myself to go, I wanted to purposefully remain attired in my full-white Ceylon dhoti and cotton shirt set, not to in anyway draw the attention of the throng to myself but to testify to the Lord even through the smallest avenues possible. It was not an easy wardrobe call to make by some standards because, there have already been prior occasions when I was dismissed as a black sheep (or white raven) beating the accepted pattern, often inviting ridicule amidst my entire extended family and circle of friends for making head-strong choices to stand by convictions in even smaller matters as these.

But, having hailed from a nominal Protestant background, God alone be thanked that I have a close to impeccable understanding now as to what constitutes scripturally approved worship and expression of faith. So, as I drove to the venue, I was mulling on the job at hand and in parallel looking forward to the experience of a quick rendezvous, not reconciliation, with my native Church. As I slithered into the hall, I began to feel pretty out-of-place amidst the congregation, my would-have-been kinsfolk had I not yet embraced the truth in truth. I could observe how a serenely set place of worship that spelled devotion contrasted with the modern appeal of the well appointed noveau riche of the city, a distant cry from modesty and the "beauty of holiness". The aura was bathed in the distracting odours of fragrant cologne and strung jasmine buds secured to women's locks. The place echoed with the muffled clutter of small talk and people strutting in and out at will, giving it an appearance of anything but a place of divine presence. The young also, of both sexes hung around in groups to catch up with vain gossip oblivious of the worth of the ground they were on.

Worst of all, the very purpose of the program seemed to be nothing but a poorly assembled "show-case" of singing and instrumental talents to elicit plaudits for the performers and not to win praise for the true Lord and Master. Though it was a thoroughly annoying experience to sit through the program, I used it otherwise effectively to be engaged for a short while in one of my favorite hobbies, snob watching. However, possessing roots tracing back to this religious denomination, it stirred me up to remembrance on a more melancholic note, to sympathize in prayer for the state of so many of the loved ones, including many of my own next of kith and kin, who still remain in the cozy and proud web of their traditions, rituals, pomp and riches.

Dedicated to my House Owner & family

I thought I should dedicate one to the honour of the unique specimens that constitute the household in whose property I have taken temporal residence in a Chennai suburb. The venomous patriarch of the house, called the owner, happens to be a retired school teacher and I recall the day when he met me, showed me around the house and keenly sized me up with his glare before acceding to accept a single, thirty something guy into his hallowed ground. Counter-reading his eyes I figured out that he was searching for extraneous cues concerning my character and motives, little aware that I possessed the art of smooth talking and evasive answering (still in my passive repertoire of retrievable skills from my pre-salvation days) to present myself sparkling clean before anyone, though I could have even wallowed in the mire just moments earlier. This Indian citizen's interpretation of "freedom is my birthright" is to express it in the manner of his loitering around the house in nothing but his strategically perforated briefs (fondly called "uncles' atrocious undies"). The very sight of this almost naked sexagenarian walking the turf with his otherwise fully wrapped wife in contrast is a sheer stress buster of sorts after a busy day at work.

Now, his two married male wards are gifted with what I call, roving x-ray eyes which prowl on me to ensure that I am not drooling at or checking their spouses out. While I agree that it is quite expected a behaviour on the wards' part, I hope I am forgiven this deviant statement that...it sure takes some darn guts to assume that this blog-writer is so deprived and starved so as to stoop down in his instincts to desire after what at best appears as gnarled and charred remains of burnt corpses. So, I fittingly responded to their sense of insecurity by closing out all windows as a practice and have, in a way, almost sealed them permanently shut never to be opened again since I have gotten the house thoroughly air conditioned in recent times. Nonetheless, a daily see-saw battle continues, with the younger ward appearing only all too interested to have me ensnared by any means, not aware that "my life is safely and securely hid with Christ in God".

This blog however, will not be complete without mentioning the most hyperactive and expressive member of the house, Tiger, the watch cum pet dog. A ten month old over-grown Rajapalayam pup that he is, he is my present love interest who wins my heart over and over again with his endearing whines, unsolicited licks and love bites. Snow White as I would like to call him, with an imposing appearance that belies his age still performs poorly at bladder control, often relishing to let himself loose over his favorite piss-pot in the whole house, the curtain on my front door. It seems like he has evolved a peculiar liking towards soft objects over the common doggie-affinity for harder objects like car tires and tree trunks for the urinal and, on occasions has gone the length of trading even his chewing bones in exchange for my shoes and sandals much to my chagrin.

Together, don't they make one interestingly riotous family thriving on the border of insanity ? Yea, they do.

Done to near-death by Powerpoint !!

The last couple of weeks, I was scourged and smitten and almost done to death by the greatest serial killer ever known to professional mankind, still on the rampage and working havoc on corporate landscapes, Microsoft's Powerpoint. And readers, you should be really glad to find me, the fazed blog-writer, atleast retain a few dregs of my elements yet intact within me to pull off a random blog this afternoon despite having been at work with my disoriented teams to sift, sort and shine quite a few net-sum-zero value but high intensity *.ppts that intended to serve a glorious purpose. That is...to "suck-up" to and "boot-kiss" a few visiting movers and shakers (read as Caesars from a Biblical connotation) from across the seas. Even as I stood on my knees last week in prayer beseeching deliverance from this apparent crap, my loving Lord and the saviour of my soul, with a gentle smile and soft whisper had rather these words to comfort me with, "Son, seek not to be delivered of this thine anguish and despise it not, but endure it as thy blessed cross, for the sufferings of this present time worketh for you a far more exceeding and lasting weight of glory in thy career ahead. Therefore, tarry thou not in the matter, but make haste to give unto Caesar the things which be his as it behooves you to stand full-well approved of such men also to be counted worthy of both, their kingdom and mine !!" Those very words of cheer were sufficient to kindle me and set me into a dizzying pace of action to all-out please the visiting Caesars. And please them I did this week with panache and a flourish by the Lord's manifold graces. Lol !!

And by the way, I managed to fish out and share this stand-up comedy clip that was tucked away into some remote corner of the web to give you a flavor of what the heck I am talking about.

Beating Chennai's midsummer blues - The great sweltering challenge !!

As a small-town guy just past his teens, I landed in Singaara Chennai, my city of promises, my Eldorado, over a decade back in pursuit of my profession. Chennai conjured up in me images of a vivacious city, of a fast paced life, of the industrious and the literati, of art and fashion etc., of access to the inaccessible, my vision of a corridor to the modern world. The dust and dirt of the city, as in it's hospitable wont welcomed me into its fold without flinching or mooting a complaint. The wheel of my life spun well for a while, free from regrets till the advent of the month of April when it began to develop squeaks. It was the occasion when Helios was whetting his glow to come cracking with his joules on the skin of the pitiable denizens of Chennai. Yes, "sum" had just managed to wade in only to intensify through the next couple of months into "summer" and the "summest".

Over the days and weeks following, the quartet of heat, dirt, pollution and humidity got their act together to be at their synergistic best to land the perfect coup-de-grace on my frame. As unwary as I was, I often ventured out of my hideout in the mornings of apparently bright and breezy days only to be prevailed against squarely by the four and forced into a retreat like a panting and whining canine a few hours later. Chennai has always been at it's gruesome best during summer while posing the near ultimate test of physical endurance. Since those days I have learned the snail's art of adopting discretion over valor to tackle Chennai with due respect especially during the months of April through June.

The city of my dreams hasn't been behaving any better over the years, but has only degenerated for the worse. It has been getting more teeth behind itself with the passing years in comparison with every yesteryear, making a summer lived out in it's limits a matter of utter displeasure. Well, even as the city is preparing to throw me another "The great sweltering challenge !!" this year, I on the other hand am exercising due diligence and all caution to weather it rather successfully.