Temple adventures
It was a sunny weekend, and The Woman from Madras Musings had taken the Eternals temple hopping. Where the Pater Eternal is, strangeness isn’t too far away. And so it was on this occasion too, which soon proved to be a mini adventure with interesting characters making a guest appearance.
Like a good many of their friends, the Eternals love to visit temples. But as they grow older, they’re discovering that temples can be daunting to those who are not quite surefooted anymore. The temple they were visiting that weekend was one such place – it had been on their list for a long time and though uncrowded, had steep steps and a particularly uneven ground. Mater Eternalis breathtakingly practical; when offered a helping hand, she takes it and goes about her business. Pater Eternal, however, is a man of pride and tends to view any sort of support as beneath him to accept. So when WMM offered to help him down the steps at the entrance, he pooh-poohed the very idea and – loudly demanding that WMM desist from dominating him with her infernal assistance – took a big step forward and proceeded to miss the very half-step that WMM was attempting to point out to him. He careened down the steps and managed to land on his feet and balance himself. It truly was an admirable feat, no doubt thanks to all those years of sports. WMM and M.E soon got over their fright and heaved a sigh of relief. The rest of the crowd at the temple, however, found it hard to brush aside their shock.
P.E was immediately surrounded by a concerned group of people, who asked whether he was fine, whether he wanted to sit down or have some water to drink. Another group coalesced around WMM, reproaching her in no uncertain terms for leaving P.E to contend with the steps all on his own. P.E meanwhile watched WMM get her comeuppance with nary a murmur, which WMM thought was patently unfair. He simply stood there, silent and sweet as a lamb, accepting the wave of sympathy and concern that came his way. Then, one nice lady suddenly exclaimed that she thought P.E was a very sweet-looking grandpa indeed, and – to P.E’s mortification and WMM’s satisfaction – proceeded to pinch his cheek. After that, the other ladies wanted to have their turn too, and soon, an unspoken consensus arose that they would all take care of P.E until he left the temple. People made sure that P.E didn’t wait too long in queues, and any child that ran across his path or blocked his way immediately received a box on the ear. M.E and WMM were largely ignored.
There happened to be in the temple complex, a shrine that required one to climb a particularly steep line of steps. The crowd there simply did not disperse. P.E was genially whisked off to the head of the queue while M.E and WMM waited their turn. WMM soon discovered that the crowding was due to the officiating priest – he was delivering a speech that appeared to have been going on for quite a long time. He spoke about the presiding deity of the shrine; then he spoke about himself; then he spoke about deities in temples as far away as Kumbakonam and Trichy. Now and then, he held an impromptu quiz among the gathered. It was apparent that his captive audience was well and truly caught – each time someone tried to slip away, the priest loudly remarked that his next topic would be a very interesting one indeed and that it would be very foolish to forego the opportunity to listen to him. Well, who would move away after hearing something like that? WMM stuck around for two rounds of threats and then decided enough was enough. She respectfully moved away after a few minutes, M.E in tow.
WMM and M.E were rather flushed and harried from the ordeal. So it was with mixed feelings that they encountered a very comfortable, happy P.E seated in the shade. He was finishing off a laddoo. M.E coldly asked him where the laddoo was from. P.E replied that someone gave him one, along with some cold water to drink. M.E observed stiffly that P.E hadn’t saved any of it for her or WMM. P.E explained that it was a remarkably good laddoo and that he had eaten it all by the time the thought came to him.
It was a rather wilted WMM and M.E that accompanied P.E back to the car.
Car Scar
Last weekend, The Woman from Madras Musings found herself on an unexpected sightseeing trip covering a vast part of Thiruvanmiyur and Besant Nagar. She had hailed an auto to take a ride to the tennis court, but discovered that a fit of ruthless efficiency had spurred the local traffic police to institute several diversions along her usual route. WMM was waiting to make a turn at a particularly unfamiliar location – the place was jammed with vehicles that inexplicably slowed down and stopped as soon as they reached the turning. WMM soon found out that it was because of a car that had managed to run its underbelly atop a divider smack in the midst of the road. Thankfully, no one was hurt. But the car itself was in a shocking position.
WMM felt rather bad for the driver, who had gotten out of the vehicle and looked quite helpless. It was apparent that it wasn’t his car. Every passer-by carried a mild curse on their lips for the traffic authorities, for the mishap was not really his fault – the paint on the divider had faded away, and there were no traffic signs that pointed to its presence. Anyone seated in a small hatchback could be forgiven for missing it.
Last seen, a traffic policeman was walking towards the car, asking the crowd to disperse. Everyone tut-tutted and left. What else was there to do?
WMM was reminded of another badly designed traffic element, closer to her locality. This one is a strange cross between a bridge and a subway. The slim path makes way for a single vehicle to cross a small water body; but it is flanked on both sides by footpaths that are much taller than the road within. The footpaths have no railing facing the road; so anyone losing their footing could well find themselves on the hood of a car. What amazes WMM is that there have presumably been no complaints about the structure – it is a well-known shortcut in the locality, one that is even recommended on satnav maps.