A pundit with a not-so-pleasant voice leads the congregation (my neighbours and their friends and friends of friends) in singing bhajans praising God in all his divine glory.
They start at around 10 pm and go on till dawn. Which means I either have to drown out the cacophony with the television on at full blast or stuff cotton in my ears. Unfortunately, neither is a solution because the night festivities are held next to my bedroom window. Plus, the microphone the pundit uses is a particularly effective one.
And why, you wonder, I don't complain. Well, I do grumble in the privacy of my home. But I don't say anything to my neighbours -- we have to maintain good relations, you see.
In Delhi, your average middle-class, well-educated Uncleji is quite capable of deflating car tyres or letting loose a volley of unprintables when the occasion calls for it.
God is not deaf. And for all I know, he sleeps at night too. When will my neighbours realise this?
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