Inside Out

Inside Out

This image is so far disconnected from the actual event… I went to a Diwali event a friend was hosting in an old church that is now used as a public meeting space, very lovely. Beautiful singing – those hypnotic quarter tones that twist and fold my European sensibilities, many of the older people softly sentimental for a time and place long gone – wiping away a few tears. (One of the hard things about being an emigrant is that when you do get to ‘go home’ it’s changed. It’s not the same – the streets, the shops, the clothes, the people… and sometimes the only place you can find it is in the old songs – when you close your eyes.)

And then, in the middle of this seriousness, a disorganised little flash-mob started a groove, which, given the moment, evolved into a bit of Indian Gangnam Style – which was met by a Bangra challenge into a bit of Bangnam Style – or something absurdly wonderful…

But I took this photo when the light was just perfect – still brighter outside than inside, just barely and the sunset was glorious – what little bit I could see from my seat. And it reminded me of so many church services that were survived only by gazing longingly out the window, dreaming of playing or running or really, doing anything but sit there bored to death…

And it occurs to me now – that it was the threat of damnation I was indifferent to – not the fear… I was fearless. Except for Sister Rose Andrew. I was definitely afraid of her! She could whoop ass like no one before or since…

Published by Titirangi Storyteller

Telling tales from around the world

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