i am a little church (no great cathedral)

Yesterday I happened to pass by that little area known to Shimla's older residents as Ripon Place. This was a quiet Saturday, and as good a time as any to wander into St. Michael's Cathedral, the other big Christian place of worship of our town. The dressed grey stone is, to me, its most attractive feature as is its spire, somewhat visible through the branches of an old oak.

This church was built in 1885, and was then known by its full name : the Cathedral of St Michael and St Joseph. Given its age, it is quite possible that it was constructed under the supervision of the famous architect, Henry Irwin. Its site was chosen by the Viceroy, Lord Ripon.

The Indian Engineering, a Calcutta periodical of the times, carried the following note in its issue of October, 1888: "...Mr. Henry Irwin, C.I.E., is transferred to Allahabad ... It is now seven and a half years since Mr. Irwin came to Simla, to build the public offices. Since then he has designed and superintended the building of the Army Headquarters; the P.W.D. Secretariat; the Post and telegraph Offices; the Foreign Office and the Ripon Hospital ... His crowning work in Simla is the Viceregal Lodge, a handsome stone building of the Elizabethan style, which he saw completed during the summer of the present year. He leaves Simla, the city he has beautified, on the 1st of November, carrying with him the best wishes of a large circle of friends and acquaintances." As can be seen, there is no mention of the design or construction of St. Michael's. Nor is there any record to prove that Irwin designed this lovely little church.

Everyone in Shimla knows the role that Lockwood Kipling played in the beautification of Christ Church. when he designed its wonderful chancel windows and supervised their making by the Students of the Lahore School of Art. Few are, however, aware that his famous son Rudyard would participate in a play to raise funds for the construction of St. Michael's cathedral.

St. Michael's is laid in the cruciform or Latin Cross form. There is a long nave, the main longitudinal area of a church, extending from the main entrance or narthex to the chancel to be used by the congregation. A transept, the transverse arm, lies across it: an array of musical instruments revealing the tastes and hobbies of the churchgoers. The nave is flanked on either side by long, narrow aisles whose ceiling is considerably lower. The clerestory windows are simple and elegant in design and provide a touch, not just of beauty, but also utility by providing necessary lighting to the central space. The ogival arches are, perhaps, a nod to Gothic architecture, but aren't as elaborate or as flamboyant as the ones seen in the Dom in Cologne, or in the Notre Dame in Paris.There is a vestry, a baptistery and a confessional. The latter is a simple structure, showing none of the drama or creativity one noticed in, for example, the Se Cathedral in Goa.

This lovely stained-glass window over the altar has St. Francis on the left and St. Joseph to the left of Lord Jesus. Since the church was empty of people, I couldn't ask anyone about the provenance of this window, but will update this post as soon as I do.

St. Michael's reminded me of a e e cummings poem:

i am a little church (no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
- i do not worry if briefer days briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april

my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of the earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying) children

around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope, and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains

i am a little church (far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish) at peace with nature
- i do not worry if long nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing

winter by spring; i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)

Windows. (No relation to Gates).

Funny how some things can exist right under your nose and you never notice them! This sweet, crumbly little building stands on a road I have criss-crossed more times than I care to remember. I've looked at it while walking past. I've gazed at it from a car window. But it was only last Saturday that I actually stopped to look at it properly. Little did I realise that I was in for a treat.
This old structure - the annexe to Hotel Cecil - built in the typical dhajji-style (wood, plaster and hay between them for insulation) has the most incredibly embellished windows. They're made of a tin cover for the chajja (the little slanting cover which protects the window panes from rain) and wood. Supporting the chajja are gorgeous little arches carved from wood. The patterns are a mix of the floral and the geometric. Some of these are cut into the tin, forming extremely attractive shadow patterns. The windows are, as Baudelaire would say, profound, mysterious and dazzling.

j

i go to this window

just as day dissolves
when it is twilight (and
looking up in fear

i see the new moon
thinner than a hair)

making me feel
how myself has been coarse and dull
compared with you, silently who are
and cling
to my mind always

but now she sharpens
and becomes crisper
until i smile with knowing
- and all about
herself

the sprouting largest final air

plunges
inward with hurled
downward thousands of enormous dreams

- e e cummings -