I head out of my home for church. The mass at church is believed to begin at 9.30 am. With the usual shrug-it-off attitude, I reach the church by 10.
The mass had just begun and I for a change liked the idea of attending a complete mass.Takes me back to an old-time conversation. Mom it's late!!. I have to reach the church at least an hour before the mass so I don't miss the children's league meet. If possible make my weekly confession today..*Chuckle and move forward*.
There is a display board, with writings in lights, right in front of the church. I really don't like technology ruin the art and grace of a church. Nevertheless, a few of the quotes did catch my attention. I enter the church and manage to squeeze in between weirdly-positioned legs , purses, folded umbrellas.. making sure I don't step on a sleeping child! . Amidst bible readings and chants, the occasional diversion creeps in.
It was only yesterday I went to a flea market in Kochi with my cousin. As we approached the entry, we felt like we did not belong. As if a westernized part of Kerala with people barely speaking Malayalam looking like hippies, made us feel alien in our own town. Weirdly, I feel the same right now inside the church too. I stare at specifics around me. Rusty-old-fashioned-silver anklets , plastic bangles that would stretch and relax, handkerchiefs swiping off the sweat, rosary beads, unwaxed arms, plaids that end in split ends...something so real yet distant. Make me want to question the way we model a certain cultural acceptance that changes from place to place and time to time.
There is a pathway in the middle of the church that separates men and women. Men on the right and women on the left. I felt, if somebody opted to cross the line from left to right, they would enter a more at-ease-and-in-control zone. The lot on the right seem to have less on their mind or so I think. There are children on both the sides, alongside both the parents. But they are cranky on the left side. Calm or rather quietened by a rude look on the right. This men-and-women divide has been on my mind for a long time now. I hear a lot of complaints from my female friends who are married. From 'he doesn't understand me' to 'he treats me like a servant' to 'he abuses me verbally in front of my child' to ' why should I be the one dealing with his mother's rude looks'. The only complaint my male friends have is that their women complain!!!. I mean this has been going on for God knows how long. Is this divide real?. Or illusive?..If this is a myth, I'd like to bust it today.
I came across a video today that said how women looked in their late 30s or 40s or 50s for that matter depended on how their men treated them. I don't think they meant a Sridevi look. But certain bruises or marks or extra weight that could have been avoided I guess?.
The mass had just begun and I for a change liked the idea of attending a complete mass.Takes me back to an old-time conversation. Mom it's late!!. I have to reach the church at least an hour before the mass so I don't miss the children's league meet. If possible make my weekly confession today..*Chuckle and move forward*.
There is a display board, with writings in lights, right in front of the church. I really don't like technology ruin the art and grace of a church. Nevertheless, a few of the quotes did catch my attention. I enter the church and manage to squeeze in between weirdly-positioned legs , purses, folded umbrellas.. making sure I don't step on a sleeping child! . Amidst bible readings and chants, the occasional diversion creeps in.
It was only yesterday I went to a flea market in Kochi with my cousin. As we approached the entry, we felt like we did not belong. As if a westernized part of Kerala with people barely speaking Malayalam looking like hippies, made us feel alien in our own town. Weirdly, I feel the same right now inside the church too. I stare at specifics around me. Rusty-old-fashioned-silver anklets , plastic bangles that would stretch and relax, handkerchiefs swiping off the sweat, rosary beads, unwaxed arms, plaids that end in split ends...something so real yet distant. Make me want to question the way we model a certain cultural acceptance that changes from place to place and time to time.
There is a pathway in the middle of the church that separates men and women. Men on the right and women on the left. I felt, if somebody opted to cross the line from left to right, they would enter a more at-ease-and-in-control zone. The lot on the right seem to have less on their mind or so I think. There are children on both the sides, alongside both the parents. But they are cranky on the left side. Calm or rather quietened by a rude look on the right. This men-and-women divide has been on my mind for a long time now. I hear a lot of complaints from my female friends who are married. From 'he doesn't understand me' to 'he treats me like a servant' to 'he abuses me verbally in front of my child' to ' why should I be the one dealing with his mother's rude looks'. The only complaint my male friends have is that their women complain!!!. I mean this has been going on for God knows how long. Is this divide real?. Or illusive?..If this is a myth, I'd like to bust it today.
I came across a video today that said how women looked in their late 30s or 40s or 50s for that matter depended on how their men treated them. I don't think they meant a Sridevi look. But certain bruises or marks or extra weight that could have been avoided I guess?.
