Southern Sojourn - it's a vibe

The trip to the Shore temple in Mahabalipuram. It wasn’t meant to happen. But happen it did in-spite of the late and false starts on Saturday afternoon. A long pre-destined Friday night with Mr. Beam and Ms. Absinthe almost killed the solid intent to visit the site. This thought reverberated as the taxi navigated through the Chennai traffic and finally opened its throttle on the highway. The view changed into rural landscape mode and led to multiple stops for coconut water, cucumber laced with salt and masala and a view into the roadside sellers deliberation on what to charge me for each item. The delta was almost 100% between each vendor over 6 stops which I paid without a murmur.

Then the coconut lagoons and sea broke over the crest of the buildings as I crossed Devaneri and the entire countryside looked soaked in warmth unlike a summer’s rain spangled illusion. The place seemed eternal, not subject to the laws of mutability. The Shore temple was a masterpiece, stark against the backdrop of the sea and biscuit coloured against the sky. The temple walls were laden with a pink glow, as soft and filtered and cool in colour as the spring sun, the courtyard outside touched with the mist off the sea, the stone walls deep in shadow and years of expression, the bricks smelling of damp stone. The idols and carving inside belonged to another era, one that was outside of time and unheedful of the demands of commerce that modern day places of worship are subjected to these days. Perhaps as a reminder of that fact, a notice was hung outside the site certifying it as a world heritage site. It was truly a fine afternoon, the sunlight as soft as smoke filtering through tree branches.

But the best was saved for last as I surfed through the sculptors and their objects of creation. A muted whistle by a shy artist doubling up as the owner beckoned me into the shop where he cajoled me to ‘have a look’ at his designs. The buying was swift with zero negotiation. I don’t bargain with artists as well as roadside sellers. It requires a heart without a soul to do that in my view. And I also firmly believe no artist should price his artwork as they always end up with a raw deal far below the actual worth. He said the inspiration behind the designs comes to him from above during his sleep and prayers and that he is a mere conduit blessed with the hands. That artists have a lock on sanity and don’t look outside for insight. That the gift comes from somewhere else, and it’s there for a reason, and that’s to make the world a better place. Numerous other small (in terms of time) experiences happened during my interaction with the locals but as I walked away towards the car I could imagine the way India probably was when it was only a dream in the mind of God; when nature had not been rearranged by the hand of man, when the human spirit was still untouched – one that I suspect historians may look upon as the last decade of Indian innocence.

As The Temple of Transcendence says – Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart; And try to love the questions themselves.

Current music – Madonna – Rain