Monday, May 19, 2008
Temple.
I am beginning to hate to go temple. Or rather being dragged to temple. Ok auspicious day. So what? I have to admit. I hate crowds. Who doesnt. But as a Hindu, trust me the crowds that can accumulate in temples is just infuriating. There is never an organized way of praying. Everyone is everywhere. And the smell of incense, middle-aged aunties, the sounds of the blaring indian musical instruments and the feel of disgusting floor riddled with wet, black footprints. Ok I shall stop whining like a girl asking whether she is fat. Personally I can stand all this. In fact it all accumulates to ONLY about 10% of my total frustration. As a young man, this is nothing. I have learnt to cope with more frustrations in life, compared to them this is trivial. I have been in worse crowds and I just have to learn to accept my traditional methods in Hindu places of worship. But the 90% of the frustration comes in when my parents force me to come to temple on auspicious days where the crowd will be double and all the hoo-hah will be doubled. Seriously, half of them I can tell, are not there for praying, they are just showing face. Girls dress up like there is no tomorrow to flaunt to lecherous guys. All pretend to be traditional and good family girls. Then why is your fucking saree so revealing. Why wear make up like a clown? Because God will punish them if they dont look good? Girls and despo guys make up your minds. I dont even wish to touch on some hypocrytic adults who drag their entire family down to temple and pretend to pray. Basically a temple is a meeting point for all relatives to talk kok. Show off. The bleeding aunties are wearing like 10 kg worth of jewellry and a saree as thick and glamorous like mammoth hide. Then they sweat like mad and stink up the whole place. The men just slowly smoke out and talk about manchester united and chelsea and arse-nal and beers outside the temple. And young men of justice and true to their hearts like myself are suffering. I wish to pray in peace. In quietness. Like the early morning of saturday in Perumal temple. Its so big and empty and serene. Not a soul around. I feel so light and free to talk to God. Whenever I am dragged like a dog in chains to temple on other days, I am forcing myself to pray so that it wont be a waste coming down all the way and enduring the smell of the reeking aunties. I rather inhale in anthrax. I am sorry terrorists, I have found a smell worse than your bio-terrorism chemicals. Fat, sweating women. Even when the men sweat in temples I still can vaguely smell their cologne when my nose is sardined in the crowd. But I dont know what evil or what bacteria causes that putrid stench of ladies draped in sarees as thick as armour and jewellery like rambo's machine gun ammo. Ok enough of stinking ladies. Yea, I CANT PRAY IN PEACE WHEN FORCED TO. I am dreading it nowadays. Whenever another auspicious day comes, I am fearing it like D-day. I miss the good old Saturday mornings when I will just wake up early, take bus and pay a visit to temple to see an old friend. Its so magical then. Because, I AM ALONE.
8:41 AM
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