Sushmita
It was a Saturday and, as it had become customary, Justin, Pearl and their young son had gone to the New Delhi Community Hall where Brother Eric started holding his weekly worship services. Most of the attendees were the erstwhile members from some Main Line church, but all were genuinely interested to give themselves to the new way of worship, as introduced by Brother Eric, and to hear the word from the Bible preached by him in the most exciting and refreshing way. Before Brother Eric preached the Word of God, the worship leader was exhorting the congregation with songs of Praise & Worship, trying to induce some sort of spirituality into the whole atmosphere, or so it seemed. Justin, watching him with amusement, tried to keep his expressions under wraps as he did not want to stand out as an odd man amongst forty and odd congregants.
The worship leader, playing a tambourine, was trying hard to put life and zeal into these people of all ages, invoking their interest in God and His worship. The songs were short choruses with catchy tunes and could make one jump and dance, but no one really moved; the best effort was a forced ‘genuine’ smile.
For the most, these were new Christian choruses and songs, yet all made an effort to lip sing with the worship leader trying to give an impression that they knew the lyrics. However, efforts to emulate were betrayed by the action of their eyes that were trying to catch the next word of the lyrics on the screen. Though learning this new way of worshipping was quite an effort on the part of everyone present in the meeting, one could see people sincerely trying to get interested in God while singing and trying to move or dance freely in line with the exhortation of the worship leader.
Justin never danced in his life, though the hidden desire was always there to be the best dancer on the floor. His body stiffened while attempting to make any dance moves. It seemed Justin inherited the stiffness from the intense training in his college as an NCC cadet. The cadets marched on the dusty grounds of the college, balancing big rifles with the middle fingers of their left hands. They marched for hours at a stretch, in perfect synchronisation with each other, raising a small cloud of dust each time their heel struck the ground. Trying to sing and move simultaneously during the praise and worship, within the confines of the space in between the seats, Justin found himself vigorously tapping the floor with his heels; only the clouds of dust were missing this time.
Once the worship session was over, all sat down at the behest of the worship leader while he tried explaining a scripture. A few people carried their own Bibles, though no one really knew how and where to open the Bible except for the four gospels found in the New Testament. Justin’s wife Pearl was sitting next to him followed by their son Rahul who had still not seen a decade of winters.
The atmosphere was serene and all were listening to the young man with rapt attention when, out of nowhere, a feeble sound of footsteps that constantly grew louder and nearer held Justin’s attention. The sound was clearly that of a woman walking with high heel shoes and the pace projected urgency with each step. In the quietness of the hall, the sound of those footsteps grew louder and clearer, until it paused for a split second at the door before entering the hall. As if in synchronisation, many heads turned to look at the person; Justin took care not to literally turn his head but cautiously did throw a glance in the direction of the new entrant. A fair maiden with head held high walked in, dressed in western casuals, with hair cut in layers that were puffed upwards in the front and flowing with each stride. Clutching a small sling-handbag, the damsel sat down next to a middle-aged couple. The congregation that stirred the way a dove puffs up and shakes its feathers for a few seconds before settling down reverted their attention back once again to the young man who was trying to explain eternal life that all need but never really understood.
Brother Eric, who had the Bible on his fingertips, gave the sermon. It touched the hearts of many, out of whom several congregants stood up at the altar call, rededicating their lives to Jesus.
After the service was over, people socialised with each other and met Brother Eric. Justin, along with his wife and son, was moving around trying to meet other members. At the same time, he was discreetly throwing a glance in the direction of the young woman, when all of a sudden, he saw the middle-aged couple with the young woman tagging along, approach Justin and his family. The introduction was appropriate as both families carefully choose the words of salutation to impress each other about the class they belonged. The couple introduced the young woman as Sushmita from the city of Bangalore, and daughter of a distant relative of Mr. Goodwin. She was a software programmer and had come to reside with them as a paying guest. Justin noted the brightness in the eyes of Sushmita; her big brown eyes were expressive and full of excitement. She carried her slender figure gracefully, and punctuated the atmosphere with her laughter every now and then. On the way out, Justin, along with Pearl, joined the elderly couple in the hallway, walking towards the parking lot, while Sushmita took hold of Rahul’s hand and walked behind them.
Once in the confines of their cars, Justin and Pearl started discussing the events at the meeting and were happy with the experience, when Justin noted the peculiar fragrance that had permeated the atmosphere inside the car. The perfume was not anything like the one Pearl ever used. Upon scrutiny, it was observed that the source of the fragrance was a bookmark held by their son. Sushmita had given the bookmark dabbed with perfume to their son. The fragrance spoke for itself, it was Chanel.