Monday, April 17, 2006


I'm not too big on going to church. In fact the only time the sister and self manage to make it for a service is on Christmas and Easter because the mother emotionally blackmails us.
This past Easter was one bizarre ride.
The initial plan was to get to PV and Bul2's place for dinner and maybe a few beers before heading to the Easter Vigil mass in neighbouring NewPV. Anna and JD were comng along as well..this being the first time JD had ever been to church..
Got to Bul2's place, chatted shit with Kanchan..Lakshman came by for a smoke and chat too.
The folks, already in a hurry, refused to pick us up from there..telling us to walk the kilometre-or-so till the Vyapar Kendra. This was at close to midnight, slightly drunk, stoned, exhausted, carrying bags, and the women in heels. You'd think your own parents would have a little consideration.
Church was surreal. We were expecting a candle-lit service. Instead we got garish tubelights with ugly bunting on magenta backdrops and a Captain America-like Christ staring down from behind the altar.
Crap singing, an organ that sounded like a castrated banshee and squeaky plastic chairs.
Since we'd gotten to church late, we'd figured we'd only have to sit through a third of the service. Not knowing that the priest had gotten lost getting there too.

Children do the wierdest things in church. Its like they know their parents can't do squat.
Mark's brat Brandon, dressed like one of the Telly Tubbies was marching up and down the aisle to the tune of Halleluia; the Noronha twins were busy outdoing each other in a braid-pulling competition, and tiny Kelly D'souza was giving the moths a hard time with her candle.

Soon as mass was over, we bundled into the Batmobile for the long, cramped ride back to Esperanza. Dad driving, Dad's Man Friday in front with Mum, Anna, Carmen, JD and self at the back.
As the Batmobile bounced along bumpy village roads, Dad pulled out the "stay-awake" beer for company. We were already high..what with the rum, beer and pot at Bul2's place..but who can say no to more beer?

The main highway to Esperanza was under construction so we had to negotiate the brick-lined dirt track that winds through the elephant grass and maize fields. Some dumbass Jat farmer had broken his irrigation canal, so water had flooded the "road". With the Batmobile's suspension already weighed down, we had to alight, and walk around the "puddle"..
Expensive shoes washed in mud, clean clothes ripped by barbed wire and fingers covered in grime.

What a relief to finally drive through the gates of Esperanza with the pack of pariahs converging around the car in a chorus of exultant barking.


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