Laughter – the best medicine.

I am sure we all agree laughter is the best medicine. But the time and place has to be definitely appropriate otherwise the one who is laughing will make a fool of oneself.

Have I told you before, that I rarely miss my Sunday Mass? There was a time when I used to attend daily mass, but for whatever reasons, laziness being the best of all reasons, I have not been able to continue the practice.

A little note to those who do not know about a Mass  is all about – A holy Mass is a religious practice as ancient as the catholic church itself, that I belong to, and is the central act of worship for us. It generally lasts for an hour or so, and includes bible readings, sermon and a communion service lead by a Priest or a deacon. According to the church a Sunday mass is an obligation that every Christian has to fulfill and being raised by staunch catholic parents, I have till date relentlessly followed this practice of not missing a Sunday mass. Of course, I have missed some Sunday masses when I was sick or lets say if I was travelling, but otherwise it is a strict no-no, not just out of practice, but because of the energy and strength I derive out of a mass. A Sunday mass, keeps me going through the week and if I do not attend one, there is this big feeling of guilt that consumes me for that entire week.

The mass is also the time, when I do not attend any calls. To me, it is the time I am with the creator and that time is dedicated only for my LORD. Most of the times, I leave the mobile in the car and never bother to even take it to the church.

Luckily for me, J also has similar backgrounds, and would never miss a Sunday mass, but going for daily mass is definitely not his cup of tea. Oh, and there is yet another thing, Both Dennu and Joe, hate sitting for a mass in the front rows – I am yet to find out the reason for this but they warn me not to sit in the front rows. Given a choice D would be a back bencher, but J would love to be in the centre and become one in the crowd. I prefer to be seated in the front ( not exactly the first row, but definitely in the first five rows). Joe tells D, If you allow your mother she will  be on the altar with the priest :-) which is truly an exaggeration.

The Mass also involves a fair amount of singing songs, primarily by the church choir, and the laity sing along during the service. I am familiar with mass in the latin and Syrian rites ( they are different forms of mass) and well versed in English, Malayalam and Tamil forms of mass. Oh I do actively sing along in the mass. Not that I am good at singing, infact, I am not even a great bathroom singer, but Church is always an exception. Its not to evaluate my singing, but I sing for my Lord and I don’t care who is next to me, because in a church it is just between me and the Lord.

J puts up with my singing, because I give him all these fundas and he is kind of sold on them. Dennu sometimes rolls his eyes and keeps laughing at me, but over the years I have learnt to  ignore his tactics. And he does not get any support in this matter from his dad dearest.

So, this Sunday as usual, I was belting it out in the church. Dennu was next to me, probably rolling his eyes, which I didn’t realize. Towards the end of the mass, during the final song, he came close to me, and whispered, looking at the crucifix on the altar – Ma, he is already bleeding, and if you sing anymore you will find him missing on the cross !!

Took me a few seconds to realize what he was saying and the context, but after that I could not sing ‘coz I was laughing uncontrollably, despite the stares from J :-)