I am on my way to Mallapuram/ Mahabalipuram: a sixth century ancient temple site on the Tamil Nadu coast. Set up in during the 6th century it is believed to have taken centuries to build. Many of these were carved from a single rock and must have taken outstanding craftsmanship. The ancient lighthouse in this town flies in the face of the so called discovery of India by the great Vasco de Gama. It took some time to realise how meaningless this great discovery was, as had been glorified by my text books. Indians had been for ages had been trading with far off lands long before the so called discovery. My nephew, now in school does not learn anything different it seems! One of the most interesting bits about the place were the confluence of ideas; the architecture styles seem to come from all over the country. This seems to indicate that the thread of unity is not just two hundred years old but runs far deeper than mere political or geographical unity.
Five Rathas, Five styles, Five Corners of India? Varaha’s Caves
Arjuna’s Penance, the Descent of the Ganges and many Other Names A Lion with a Man’s face!
Mahishamardini I hired a great guide who showed me around on his moped and told me a lot about the artifacts and the people.
After the tour I retired near the lighthouse.
But not for long! As the evening approached, to my vexation all corners were occupied by the couples. I do not mind couples as such but whenever I pass by them they give such a glaring look that I am bound to recoil. The poor goats were also shoed away (with possibly more directness!)
The Goats and the Lovers I am a goat While these are the lovers; I seek grass While they seek cover. They sit cozily In the sun As one On a tower, While I completely shun All ones And sit in the shade of the tower. I see them mangle their arms and feet, In the late afternoon heat, Maybe in the night when they leave, I shall find flowers and trees Blooming from the bottom of their seat. But maybe they too shall hide, For their incessant care And oh! The glare And the imaginary protests against the wear and tear Of their relationship. Alas! The coy noise ploys And pushes me down the slippery slope; By the grace of the lord, my limbs are short And the grass is tall all over. The afternoon sky slowly flies us by And the guard comes to make rounds for the evening, His words are terse, yet the lovers disperse For the night which awaits the morning. A lot of time was spent at the shore. I saw gulls flying by and children frolicking in the beating waves of the sea. Crabs dotted the sand, stealthily peeking out to seek out their seekers. On the
other side the lighthouse caught fire and started showing the way to wayward boats while the sun took a leave of absence. My eyes however were caught by a coconut:
The Coconut by the Sea Sea, oh Sea! Emancipate me, I am empty And I wish to be free. I have been rolling all day by the beach, Waiting to be taken away by thee, But each wave on me which lands Cements me further into the sand. As I sink further in Separated from my kind and kin, Down below Do I just wait, Or do I rejuvenate For the freedom yet to arrive?
Anantashayanam Evening arati at the Mahabalipuram Temple: https://youtu.be/hewQxX0Hr74 My friends from the South often treat us Northies as brutes: loud, boisterous and uncivilised. I am sure that there is an iota of truth to it but everytime I go to the south I witness something which I would never see in the north. For instance, on my way from Mamallapuram to Chennai, the bus driver abruptly stopped the bus in the middle of a four way crossing, caused a traffic jam and started arguing loudly with a couple of ladies who had just boarded the bus. My stereotype implicated the driver of having offended the ladies by innuendos of the sexual type. After a long altercation and subsequent dissolution by the police, the bus began on its journey again and I asked my cotraveller about what the crime might have been. Apparently the ladies were pissed with the conductor at having gotten down for a minute to buy a bottle of water! There is no doubt that the south is significantly quieter, cleaner than places in the north but it has its own quaintness which is often beyond my comprehension.
From Chennai back to Kolkata: No probably I am wrong. Things have changed. Cleanliness has improved over the years (or maybe the last year). I see safai karmacharis running in regularly cleaning the premises. Of course the people have not changed even a little bit and keep on throwing piles of refuse with the same alacrity as before. If one was to look for the thread of unity running through the country uncleanliness would certainly supply a string or two; children, elderly, men, women, Hindus, Muslims, policemen, engineer… The flagship Swatch Bharat programme sadly cannot survive on a handful of safai karmacharis. The train is running a few hours late. There seems to be a big mela near Rajamundhry called Pushkaram and throngs of tourist are making way to take a dip in the holy Godavari. I hear that there was a stampede near the premises which mowed down 27 people; thy holiness takes a regular sacrifice of its staunch devotees testing them of their faith. The temple authorities conspire with thy holiness leaving the queues as disorganised as possible making stampedes conceivable in the first place. Who is responsible? Is this the value for life or is this government’s notion of population control? Irrespective, the stampede deterred no one and the train was full of devotees on their way. Along with them came a horde of policemen posted for the mela. Hence I lay crouched uncomfortably on my seat with a huge crowd, failing AC and a train running very late.