What we see ........ depends on what we are looking for....!!
I traveled to Mysore over this weekend. I took the Shatabdi. Sitting by the window I sighed at heaps of garbage lined beside the railway tracks. I squirmed at the shambles of houses that dotted what had been farms and open land. I pondered over the diminishing water bodies. The train is running late. And my stomach is rumbling so! Did you notice, a train that is late, waits at every crossing...giving way to the train that is on time. And thus the train becomes more and more late! There a big lesson to be learnt here... Don't be late, and if you are late, don't be a Shatabdi.
My cousin P and I have a quick lunch of hot rotis, awesome aalu palya and lemon rice (no adjectives here!!). Manu the auto driver arrives promptly at 4 and we are on our way to Chamundi Betta.
'Do you think you want to stand in a line to enter the temple?'
'Er! what! We don't go in??!!'
Thankfully there is no line at all. We have a nice darshan and wander into the courtyard around the temple.
We hold back. We observe other devotees. A young man dips his head into the sacred stone at the back of the temple. A purohit sits crosslegged by a brass pot offering thirtha. A grandfather cups his hands in reverence. He takes a sip and scatters the rest on his bald pate. A young girl skips to her grandfather. A lady hurries by tucking a yellow shavantige into her hair. The heady fragrance peculiar to temples is everywhere. Everything is so beautiful. The raw stone floor, the pillars, the wooden beams, the intricate statues that make the gopuram, the experience of being together and silent in this place...
Two days fly by. And I am again in a train on my way back. A gentleman sitting beside me looks out of the window and says ...Oh! this stretch between Bangalore and Mysore is the best. What wonderful scenery! and this time I see.... green carpets in rice fields, purple flowers of sugarcane, glistening blue pools of water, white egrets with long necks, and stuffed scarecrows doing their job ...
I realize, when I am watching out of the window the first time I am an opinionated city woman. In the temple I am a relaxed tourist seeing everything with open eyes of acceptance. On my way back, the gentleman's words nudge me towards looking at the same scenery in acceptance. And that makes all the difference.
Perhaps that is why travelling opens up the mind? A new kind of acceptance is awakened. And we are able to look at our own lives too in different light.
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I traveled to Mysore over this weekend. I took the Shatabdi. Sitting by the window I sighed at heaps of garbage lined beside the railway tracks. I squirmed at the shambles of houses that dotted what had been farms and open land. I pondered over the diminishing water bodies. The train is running late. And my stomach is rumbling so! Did you notice, a train that is late, waits at every crossing...giving way to the train that is on time. And thus the train becomes more and more late! There a big lesson to be learnt here... Don't be late, and if you are late, don't be a Shatabdi.
My cousin P and I have a quick lunch of hot rotis, awesome aalu palya and lemon rice (no adjectives here!!). Manu the auto driver arrives promptly at 4 and we are on our way to Chamundi Betta.
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| gopuram of temple on chamundi betta |
'Er! what! We don't go in??!!'
Thankfully there is no line at all. We have a nice darshan and wander into the courtyard around the temple.
We hold back. We observe other devotees. A young man dips his head into the sacred stone at the back of the temple. A purohit sits crosslegged by a brass pot offering thirtha. A grandfather cups his hands in reverence. He takes a sip and scatters the rest on his bald pate. A young girl skips to her grandfather. A lady hurries by tucking a yellow shavantige into her hair. The heady fragrance peculiar to temples is everywhere. Everything is so beautiful. The raw stone floor, the pillars, the wooden beams, the intricate statues that make the gopuram, the experience of being together and silent in this place...
 |
| thirtha and kunkuma prasada |
I realize, when I am watching out of the window the first time I am an opinionated city woman. In the temple I am a relaxed tourist seeing everything with open eyes of acceptance. On my way back, the gentleman's words nudge me towards looking at the same scenery in acceptance. And that makes all the difference.
Perhaps that is why travelling opens up the mind? A new kind of acceptance is awakened. And we are able to look at our own lives too in different light.
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Moral of the story is B+ve and appreciate only good things around you.
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