With your head in the clouds

My eyes wanted to pop, and my sinus was overwhelmingly excited. I couldn't see 10 feet away. The rain, whipping in from all sides, drenched me; my umbrella useless. From 4,000 ft above sea level, it was nearest to feeling like I was in heaven.

Talacauvery is the sedentary man's nightmare. Roads wind on and on for two hours, the monotony of the bus engine and the giddy curves make your stomach squeamish. The unfortunate who do not grab a seat when they get the first chance have to hang on to whatever they can find, and hurry to a window as soon as their stomach speaks.

The temple architecture at Talacauvery is simple, full of planes, made of a stone that felt like rough granite. Ganapati, an avatar of Shiva and Cauvery - the resident deities - watch as devotee upon devotee brave the weather to pay them homage. Remembering the auto driver's words about the wildlife, stealing a quick glance every few minutes to check for tigers is not uncommon. It's useless. The fog is too thick and the rain too heavy.

Do we leave, or do we stay? It is freezing cold and we are wet from the rain.

The place is serene.

There are the 400-odd steps to climb to the top for a breathtaking view.

We have a bus to catch.

298. 299. 300. It's time to go. Turn back and keep the job. Carry on and miss the bus.

Turn back it is!