L is for Lessons learnt in Brihadiswara Temple #AtoZChallenge

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the third week of the #Blogging from A to Z  April Challenge 2021. My theme this year is based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

I'm exploring the 'Enemies of Ichigo Ichie' this week. Yesterday, it was 'distraction'. Today's focus is on 'projections'. 

Let's step into a day in August 2017 for today's post.

Thank you.

Arti

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"...when our mind travels into the past, where pain and resentment reside, or the future, a place of fear and worries, we are pulled away from the present moment."

Quote borrowed from The Book of Ichigo Ichie

Vast was the temple where I stood.

Its name suggested big

and big it was--it was huge,

colossal and ancient and intact to explore.

One morning in Doha in 2017,

Ambika mentioned she'd be travelling

for work to Chennai.

Can I tag along?

I asked.

She agreed.

Temples, food and sarees 

were all entered in the itinerary.

Tanjavore after Chennai and then Madurai.

The day of Brihadiswara dawned warm and bright.

We entered the temple together. 

A couple of hours later, Ambika left to deliver 

her lectures.

I stayed on to explore 

the vast temple 

to capture it with my camera and my phone.

A group of ladies

rural folk from Andhra

spotted me and demanded I make their photo.

I was ecstatic 

an opportunity such as this!

That's when it froze.

My phone.

I switched it off and carried on clicking

with my camera instead.

Smile, but look natural--I implored the colourful lot.

Ignore me. Think I'm not here.

None of the tricks to get a candid worked.

They were all eager to pose and beam and be rather alert

to my click, click, shoot effort.

The phone didn't come back on.

I left it alone --tucked it in my camera bag and wandered

the entire afternoon,

stepping back in time 

when Gods were carved in stone.

Some had been chiselled by workmen from the far East

to sing the Chola King's glory.

I could be in Japan or China, I thought

as I admired the statue's carved out story.

Moon appeared

Shadows grew deeper.

Soon, the sun began to set.

I had no clue how to get

back to the homestay 

for all the phone numbers, addresses and details were imprisoned inside 

the silent phone that day.

Ambika was supposed to pick me up after work.

How will she find me and where?

The temple was vast 

and there were people everywhere.

Can you look at this? Can you help me? I asked around.

No one could un-freeze the phone's stubborn screen.

"Do you need help?" a voice called out to me.

I turned around to see 

kind eyes 

peeping through glasses sitting on dark, round cheeks.

"Hum achcha aadmi hun." I'm a good man, he said in Tamil sounding Hindi.

He offered me a chair inside the tourist booth where he worked,

at the temple entrance.

"Don't worry, we'll find a way." he assured.

My evolutionary instincts had already kicked in:

Fright, flight kept swapping places

inside my fearful heart.

Murder, rape, lost forever, 

doubts and doubters

rose up flaunting their 'we told you so' banners  in my panic stricken state.

Someone brought me a bottle of water. 

I took a few sips.

Paddy Homestay? I asked hopefully.

No one had heard of it.

Plus, it was too far away 

way beyond city limits--

in the middle of lush paddy fields.

'Maybe, you can find me a reliable driver?' I asked the gentle-eyed, soft spoken, guide/saviour.

'Someone you trust.'

He went out to find someone he knew. 

"I wish I'd jotted down the homestay's number. 

The owner's called Thiru." 

I mumbled more to myself than to another.

'Thiru?' I heard another guide turn towards me in the booth.

"Yes." I replied.

"I have a friend who's called that 

 he used to drive a taxi but I've heard he's changed tact. 

But, let me call him anyway."

He called his friend. And guess what? He was the Thiru.

What are the chances?

Phones buzzed across the city and I was told Ambika would pick me up presently.

At last, I spotted her car in the dark. 

She'd been driving around (in panic) looking for me, 

she told me as I got in.

All is well that ends well, she said as I poured out the panic I had felt.

We were headed for the  homestay,

but we stopped at a phone repair shop on the way.

" This can't ne fixed." they pronounced the phone dead at the shop.

We reached the paddy fields 

and told them all that had happened in Brihadiswara, 

unnecessarily.

For they knew it all from before --

Word travels fast in open fields.

Next time, keep a diary 

and jot down all the numbers before--

a valuable lesson learnt for sure.

Hot rice, sambhar and pickle later, I muttered:

Technology is helpful as long as it works.

'Let me have a look' said Ambika.

Lo and behold! 

the phone switched off and came back to life.

Just like that!

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Although I had the most wonderful time in the temple that day, the minute I stared panicking, only negative thoughts came to me. My mind was conjuring up all the images I had seen on TV, read in the papers, of what could go wrong and then jumping straight into the fearful future. 

I didn't have the presence of mind to even find the name of the gentleman guide who helped me. 

Of course, I had options like staying in a hotel for the night in the city but panic clouds clarity.

Although those panic stricken moments weren't pleasant, they taught me a few valuable lessons.

Those kind men. God Bless them.

If you'd like to stay on for a bit and explore the wonderful homestay, you can click on:

Paddy Homestay

P.S.  I was reminded of this day after reading this post written by Srivalli earlier on in the challenge: Amore Natura

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Have you found yourself let down by your phone recently? 

Have strangers helped you out of a tricky situation?

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com