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Day 61 (March 8, 2000)
Today I made it full circle back to Madras. The bike is a bit worse for wear -- a bent turn signal and mirror, a slightly scratched front fender, and a hole in the seat (patched with electrical tape) that monkeys picked in it while I was exploring the caves in Badami. Monkeys... the monkey god Hanuman is big here in southern Andrah Pradesh. Last night on our way back to the hotel from the e-mail place Marcia and I stopped by a temple storehouse we had found the day before. I'd taken some photos of it - I could just get the camera in through the locked cage and the flash showed a dusty wealth of deities nestled amongst electrical power lines, spiderwebs, and ancient calendars, posters of Hanuman, a clothesline hung with eyeglasses, etc. It was wild, and I was pleased to be able to see the photos with the digital camera's megapixel eye (Olympus 2020). Amazingly, last night the place was open! Sure enough there was a priest in there tending a fire and wrapping cord with some kind of dried herb. Some lights were on, candles were lit, and there was even a man sitting on the floor contemplating darshan. Amazingly, last night the place was open! Sure enough there was a priest in there tending a fire and wrapping cord with some kind of dried herb. Some lights were on, candles were lit, and there was even a man sitting on the floor contemplating darshan. Amazingly, last night the place was open! Sure enough there was a priest in there tending a fire and wrapping cord with some kind of dried herb. Some lights were on, candles were lit, and there was even a man sitting on the floor contemplating darshan. By now Marcia and I decided that he was friendly. "Photo?" I asked. Wow. I didn't know we were approaching a star. He sat proudly at the feet of each of the deities in the lotus position, put his thumb and finger together and widened his eyes wildly. I took six or seven shots, and then he noticed what Marcia was holding... my tape recorder. By now Marcia and I decided that he was friendly. "Photo?" I asked. Wow. I didn't know we were approaching a star. He sat proudly at the feet of each of the deities in the lotus position, put his thumb and finger together and widened his eyes wildly. I took six or seven shots, and then he noticed what Marcia was holding... my tape recorder. It wasn't pretty but it had soul. More soul perhaps than I've ever heard come out of a person all at once. By the end of it there were several men standing around us in the temple not knowing whether to be curious, aghast, or ashamed. When the priest finished, Marcia and I smiled at him, put our hands together, and thanked him in Namaste. The priest beckoned to one of the men who then translated for us, he'd been speaking in Hindi, not Telgu as I had thought. "He has sung the mantra of the gods of the region," he told me, and the priest stood back, his scarred chest puffed in pride. Distracted while the man translated, he took out a book of photographs, some so worn that they were absolutely just a mess of white and gray. "His memories," the man told me, sadly. We stayed for a long time through several of this priest's outbursts, and finally it was time to go. I tried to put a 10 rupee note on his plate, but he'd have none of it. Marcia and I turned to leave, tears in our eyes, and he beckoned and shouted again for us to come back. He fumbled in an ancient burlap bag and brought out a handful of dust and two shiny new Hanuman pendants, the kind you get at the temple stalls for 5 rupees each, in enamel with rhinestones set in think gold metal around it. I was absolutely stunned by then. But that wasn't all. As we walked out of the temple I put the ten rupees in the Hundai, and started across the street. About a dozen people started to immediately shout at us but we ignored them, because everyone in India shouts at us. I felt though a jerk on my arm and it was him again, with a plastic bag full of something that he shoved in my hand. Before I could respond he was disappearing in the dark under the electrical lines into his cave-like temple. We opened the bag. Grapes. Grapes blessed by half a dozen deities. Prashada.
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