Be it Diwali, Christmas, or Navratri, we need to abide by the laws about noise or loudspeakers put in place by governments and courts, but I do remember, this man…

He walked by the revellers at the local Navratri night. Walked straight to the makeshift temple with all eyes on him. Stiff and pious was his gait. He looked neither to the left or right, but craftily noticed all eyes on him as he walked to the temple entrance. There was a hush as he went in. People counted the moments. His worship was longer, his devotion stronger, they felt, than their own humble praise.

He came out, his eyes closed. Again, there was a hush, as people wondered what he had spoken to the divine. From his look they knew he felt only he had the right to communicate with the gods inside.

The soundman in charge of the music looked up as he came to him. “Put the music louder,” he said harshly.

“But sir I am allowed only up to a certain decibel limit sir. After that it will disturb those with high BP and heart problems.”

“Hang those people,” he said, “And I want you to keep the music on after twelve midnight.”

“But sir it is against the law! I have to put the sound off at ten!”

“Here,” he said, “This is for the police, this is for you! I want the people here to know that I can control the law!”

In the mandir, he had just visited, the makeshift bamboos looked at the makeshift satin cloth, as they felt the tug of the rope that bound them together, “What is it?” asked the bamboo.

“How can a person who has worshipped inside us, go out and break the law?” asked the rope.

“Yes,” said the satin cloth, bristling with righteous indignation, “He came in like the most pious person on earth and a few seconds later was ready to bribe the police? Hypocrite!”

The tall bamboo looked at the furious faces of the rope and the satin cloth, “These are men,” he said, “Who walk into a church, temple or mosque yet do not change within!”

“Change within?” asked the rope, “What is a change within?”

“It’s what should happen with a visit to holy places. But when the visit is a farce, meant as a show for people around, or when you visit a holy place and still remain the same as before, then the visit was a waste!”

The bamboo sighed, along with the rope and satin cloth as they heard the moans of the old, as blood pressures shot up with the terribly loud thundering music. They heard babies and children crying with the disturbing noise, just as they saw the police van drive up and a policeman taking the bribe offered.

The man grinned, as the mandir groaned sadly…!