Disclaimer: This post might not make complete sense to everyone. (If any of you ghosts have questions, please do post them in the comments section)
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Sometime in 2012
He walked slowly towards the church. The irony of him - an atheist - seeking peace and solitude at a place of worship was not lost on him. His eyes absorbed the architecture - the three steeples, the cross and the stained glass windows. “If there’s a god, surely there’s going to be a power cut soon as I set foot into this building,” he amused himself as he neared the archway.
November 28, 2015
He was less sure of the way now. How long had it been since he was last here? Maybe a couple of years, if not more. Was this the right way? The landscape seemed to have changed so much! Ah, but there it is! The three steeples, the cross and the stained glass windows. Among the time swept sand dune that is the city, this oasis (or mirage?) remains a constant.
2012
He had never been in a church before. What is the etiquette? Should he remove his footwear? He looks around, relieved that all the pews are unoccupied. Sitting in a corner, he looks towards the other end of the church. The inevitable image of Jesus on the cross meets his eye. He pushes away thoughts about religion and its exploitation of people by using guilt. After all, he had come here to calm himself down.
2015
For the first time, he isn’t visiting the place alone. A believer accompanies the heathen. The believer instantly takes to the church. “This is so pretty,” she says. He nods in agreement. The gate looks like it has been locked, but she nudges it with her hand, and it creaks open. Her head, adorned with curly hair that’s tied up in a bun, turns towards him with a smile.
2012
Lost in thought, his eyes wander. They don’t register the ceiling decorated with frescos and other art. As if awakening from a trance, he wonders how much time had passed. Jesus (forgive the blasphemy)! An hour had passed by! He knew it wasn’t the work of a divine force, but his mind was clear. It had worked!
2015
Unfortunately though, the church has been locked up. So they take a look around, behind the church. The priest seems to be living a lavish life. His sprawling house feels very comfortable. The area is dimly lit. “This feels like a haunted house, not a place of worship,” he remarks. “Well.. now that you say it…” she adds, before briskly retreating towards the entrance.
2012
Vowing to make this a non-religious ritual, he steps outside the church. “This could work. Just avoid Sundays and Mass,” he thinks to himself. The stark irony was still nagging his brain. An atheist, finding peace in a church! How strange life is!
2015
He notices a chapel, something he had never paid heed before. He walks towards it and sees a plaque. “Built in ever loving memory of Dr Emily and Louis Emanuel,” he reads aloud. “Wow! Those are the names of my great-grandparents,” she says, adding, “This can’t be them though.” A closer look reveals that the plaque also has a photo. The camera flashes and a scream of excitement ensues. “Holy shit!” Even the believer can’t help but blaspheme. It IS her great-grandparents. What a coincidence. Or is it divine plan? How strange life is, indeed!
--
Sometime in 2012
He walked slowly towards the church. The irony of him - an atheist - seeking peace and solitude at a place of worship was not lost on him. His eyes absorbed the architecture - the three steeples, the cross and the stained glass windows. “If there’s a god, surely there’s going to be a power cut soon as I set foot into this building,” he amused himself as he neared the archway.
November 28, 2015
He was less sure of the way now. How long had it been since he was last here? Maybe a couple of years, if not more. Was this the right way? The landscape seemed to have changed so much! Ah, but there it is! The three steeples, the cross and the stained glass windows. Among the time swept sand dune that is the city, this oasis (or mirage?) remains a constant.
2012
He had never been in a church before. What is the etiquette? Should he remove his footwear? He looks around, relieved that all the pews are unoccupied. Sitting in a corner, he looks towards the other end of the church. The inevitable image of Jesus on the cross meets his eye. He pushes away thoughts about religion and its exploitation of people by using guilt. After all, he had come here to calm himself down.
2015
For the first time, he isn’t visiting the place alone. A believer accompanies the heathen. The believer instantly takes to the church. “This is so pretty,” she says. He nods in agreement. The gate looks like it has been locked, but she nudges it with her hand, and it creaks open. Her head, adorned with curly hair that’s tied up in a bun, turns towards him with a smile.
2012
Lost in thought, his eyes wander. They don’t register the ceiling decorated with frescos and other art. As if awakening from a trance, he wonders how much time had passed. Jesus (forgive the blasphemy)! An hour had passed by! He knew it wasn’t the work of a divine force, but his mind was clear. It had worked!
2015
Unfortunately though, the church has been locked up. So they take a look around, behind the church. The priest seems to be living a lavish life. His sprawling house feels very comfortable. The area is dimly lit. “This feels like a haunted house, not a place of worship,” he remarks. “Well.. now that you say it…” she adds, before briskly retreating towards the entrance.
2012
Vowing to make this a non-religious ritual, he steps outside the church. “This could work. Just avoid Sundays and Mass,” he thinks to himself. The stark irony was still nagging his brain. An atheist, finding peace in a church! How strange life is!
2015
He notices a chapel, something he had never paid heed before. He walks towards it and sees a plaque. “Built in ever loving memory of Dr Emily and Louis Emanuel,” he reads aloud. “Wow! Those are the names of my great-grandparents,” she says, adding, “This can’t be them though.” A closer look reveals that the plaque also has a photo. The camera flashes and a scream of excitement ensues. “Holy shit!” Even the believer can’t help but blaspheme. It IS her great-grandparents. What a coincidence. Or is it divine plan? How strange life is, indeed!
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