Come on. That’s more than a man can ever take. Around 10-15 mails a day talking about the glory of blogging and two trips filled with colorful snaps waiting to be written about and uploaded, screaming into my face every time I open my comp. So here I go … space man Spiff … on his ship exploring land, sea and air …. Blip, blip, blip with my radars going hay wire … Hmmm… perfectionist, as I am most often termed, lemme put things in a more chronological order.
Towards the fag end of another weary year 2007, when people at home had enough of looking at the same faces and brawling over the same topics, we decided that we needed a God damn break!... we were to do the thing that we never thought we ever would … go on a family vacation. The word was out. Father, mother, son and daughter had their mean monkey minds scuttling helter skelter trying to choose the best holiday spot. Dancing gleeful images of sunny golden sanded shores of bright blue beaches scored with gracefully swaying coconut tress peppered my minds 70 mm screen. Then all of a sudden there was this earth quake which ripped apart my iMax theater in which I sat dreaming of Casino Royale- styled vacations. My father and mother in unison expressed their deep felt, unfulfilled penchant desire of visiting the temples and places of Saints of Maharashtra. Swallowing hard I smiled politely and exclaimed what a wonderful idea it was. Over the following weeks … a couple of unforeseen happenings and the hand of merciful God and his companion fate decided to play the game mean. So our trip to Maharashtra got cancelled due to the non availability of train tickets …. Sigh … now what? The relief and pleasure of not going through a forced trip is one thing … while on the other hand, to see the dejection on the face of your sweet mom and dad is another. (Believe me I AM a good boy.)
As things would have it, Debo had come down to Chennai for a days’ stop over, amidst all that rocket launching and PhD work he had been busy with. There at home in the course of an after lunch chit chat he pulled out his memory stick to show all of us his recent pics snapped at an office trip that he had gone on to Bellur, Halibedu and Shravanabelagola ….blogh, blogh, blogh … my tongue got knotted … hold on a sec .. lemme untie it. It was spectacular … the scenery, the splendor of the temple carvings … at once we asked him how far these places were from Chennai. Assuring us that it is very close to Bangalore and that they can be covered in a days’ time (perhaps if we traveled on ISRO’s rockets), he urged us to go on a VACATION!!! The ball was set rolling once again. Spirited and over excited, the next few days saw us on meticulous preparation for the Bellur-Halibedu trip.
After an unpleasant last seat bus journey to B’lore and another rather pleasant day at Kadugodi, we were on a cab towards Bellur. We had estimated that it would be 4 hours before we got there. However, kinder souls who spoke to us put it in milder terms the fact that a trip from B’lore to Bellur will be just a wee bit strenuous. It was around 5:30 am that we started. Excited about the greenery that would accost our hungry eyes; we fell silent … and slowly slipped into our respective timely slumber. Shuffling in and out of my short naps I noticed that our driver lost his way and found it too adding another extra hour and half to our trip. The dawn broke and we left the city behind … and yet there was no greenery. All that the trip had to present was one long winding red mud cloud that followed us everywhere we went and a sun that chose to shine brighter on that day. Stifled by heat (despite the continued snore of a rumbling A/C) and thrown off our nerves by the fact that our time scale estimates of the journey had turned out to be grossly wrong, we cursed every single being who invaded our discussion topics …Approximately, close to 12:30 we landed at Bellur. The place by itself was not very impressive. Like any other haughty tourist flaunting their dark sunglasses and glistening cameras, we walked up the temple stairs and through its massive entrance. Right there a few steps within the premises of the temple we had to make another important decision; whether to hire a guide or not … after a few seconds of family brain storming we decided we would go about exploring the place on our own, at our own sweet pace… without the aid of an guide’s broken English and crafted-to-excite descriptions of the sculpture and history.
We had no idea of what was in stock for us. We spent about half an hour at the entrance to the first enclosure marveling at the quality of the carvings that adorned the temple’s base walls. Walking further up the steps into the sanctum sanctorium, we were welcomed by dark walls of finely sculpted figures and massive pillars that wore … believe me, its not a joke … laces and brocades through which one could pass his/her hand… all chiseled out of one single stone. The whole temple was like an enchanted dream from the royal past of a mystical kingdom. As you stand at the center of the temple with the four corners offering exquisite sculptures of dancing damsels in bovine settings, and close your eyes; you would feel transported into a beautiful story that the temple resonated.
From doorway to doorway we went, scaling wall after wall of intricate carvings. Every patch of the wall had a scene from an epic to narrate. War, dance, joy, coronations, miracles, descents, accents, birth, death ….Thanks to the Canon digicam that we sported, we clicked relentlessly at every nook and corner of the temple. We literally captured every inch of the temple on stills. How true it is … a thing of beauty is a joy for ever. When we come across a thing of such beauty our soul effortlessly surrenders to it. It made us wonder, if an object captivates so much of beauty, then how much more beautiful would the heart of it’s’ creator be? We would have spent the entire day ...nay … perhaps a couple of days, admiring the out-of-the-world works of art had we had the time. Just finding enough time to slip a sheet of news papers beneath the magical pillar that till date is suspended in air, we dashed out bundling into our waiting cab and set rolling towards Halibedu.
Spirited by our visit to the Bellur temple, we were briefed on the glory of what awaited us at Halibedu. Now … I must stop my self. I am running out of expressions. Halibedu was no less in magnificence or beauty. It was in the afternoon and the sunlight added a thousand kaleidoscopic patches of light, reflection and shadows, making the entire experience ethereal. Despite the mindless irrational scribbling proclaiming pastime love sports of pee brained road side Romeos, the carvings and idols wore the same …. shall we say … eerie shroud??? Because the sculptures here were more true to life. The smiles and smirks on the faces of the idols were more “reaching out”. It made me think, perhaps when the sun went down and the temple gates closed for the visitors, these idols and sculpture would come to life and relive the past of a long forgotten era.
Praising myself for having been thoughtful of clearing enough space on my memory card, we snapped at as much of the temple as we could before the grumble in our stomachs got louder than the chatter of the tourists around us. Slowly and very reluctantly we shuffled out of the temple towards our waiting cab. It was one of the most memorable holidays in our lives. The painful journey was worth its bit. Often in my school and college days I would sit in a silent corner of the library gaping in wonder at the heavenly statues of Rome and Italy. But this day’s visit added pride to my heart. So much of beauty in my own land, and all the while I have marveled at the creations across the seas! There certainly is more to be seen; more than the brief span of my earthly sojourn would permit. But be it as it may, this little serving would suffice, for it overflows like a spilling goblet of beauty.
