The cacophony that religion is

I am irritated as hell and it’s got nothing to do with the general state of affairs around me, the BJP’s implosion, the weather or the creative hate mail on my posts. My frayed nerves are the result of the surrounding cacophony attacking my ears which has left my brain in permanent vibrator mode (that may explain this bewildering blog).

Last week I got a case of the sniffles. Nothing serious, just seasonal flu, which escalated my irritability levels by a few megahertz. So, early Saturday morning, as I lay in my bed(at home) cursing the world and its viruses, my peaceful reverie(an indication that I was not in the hostel, a place where nothing is ever peaceful, and you can accord that to the unusually small bed that I've got. Sleep, thus is a precious quantity. Twisted muscles of the neck aren't!) was interrupted by a violent clanging sound from the vicinity. A quick investigation from the window showed someone looking remarkably like a priest banging a metal plate outside the temple.

Apparently, it’s some new custom copied from neighbourhood schools to lure in devotees and torture every other soul who doesn’t believe in paying obeisance to the gods. My frantic and angry gestures from the balcony asking him to keep it down only escalated the volume and the situation(and my hatred towards God's own man's undiluted act of schedenfreude).

That brings me to a question, the answer to which I seek in all earnest: Why do all religions have to be so loud about their daily rituals? It’s a sensitive topic so I’ll have to tread lightly, lest I get lynched by some religious zealots on my way back to Bawana Land come Monday morning. I also know that temples, gurdwaras and mosques won’t tone down the volume because a certain short-tempered blogger has got the flu. That’s just wishful thinking.

Day in and day out, these places of worship scream their devotion all over the country. I don’t know for sure, but I have a strong feeling that God is not deaf. The priests, however, always turn a deaf ear to these sentiments. Perhaps all these priests and clerics have a secret deal with the ENT specialists of the country. You scratch my back and I’ll send you the hearing impaired.

Another theory could be that these gentlemen want to make the somewhat less devout feel guilty about not going to the temple. If I was in their place, I’d change tactics… this is only driving away the remaining atheists.

Then there are the jagarans(no, not the ones you generally associate with exams). It would seem that the gods are more alert at night. Therefore, screaming your lungs out after midnight is supposed to get you closer to moksha. I believe the Supreme Court has some guidelines about noise levels (religious or otherwise) after 9 pm. Unfortunately, this being a topic of faith, you won’t find too many people willing to take on a mob to uphold a law, yours truly included.

So, how does one sleep when a thousand tone-deaf people are shrieking out devotional songs in unison a few metres from your house. Simple. Invest in ear buds, put pillows over instead of under your head and spend thousands in soundproofing your house. The other option: shift home. Although I doubt the second option is practicable. Religious is ubiquitous, you see.

Another thing I’ve noticed (and I am moving into the rounded-up-and-beatean-up-risk zone again) is that few of these harmless devotees are aware of the harm they are doing to music lovers in the neighbourhood. It’s not just the decibel levels that leave you grimacing, but the murder of melody. Tansen and his ilk must be turning in their grave. I think I should record this mass murder and sell it to the CIA. After Abu Ghraib they must have been looking for new ways to torment prisoners.

Anyway, I need to go and have a man-to-man conversation with the neighbourhood priest. If I cant’t get him to pipe down, at least I can spread some seasonal flu and God-willing give him a sore throat. Just hope I don’t have to participate in a jagaran to get God to listen to me.

Pray!