The massive globe-shaped temple

Having made excellent time, on we returned to the intersection, waiting for the bus to Auroville. In front of us, a neat little whitewashed clapboarded church with praises to Jesus in lurid, capital letters. Sat in front on the wooden planks next to the driver, the only place available. The journey was spectacular. One takes the East Coast Road, with the sea almost always visible, making a stunning view, almost like the race-tracks on the computer games one plays. A lot of the coastal flora had been flattened by the tsunami, and often we came across wooden thatched houses comprising little villages that had been rebuilt with aid.

As Pondi approached, the white-sands were even more pristine. We alighted at a random road spot in baking heat. The villagers and cows watched us placidly as we covered our heads with knapsack (A) and shirt (I). Finally a wizened, frail hand-rickshaw driver, probably plying these roads from Narasimha Varman's time, took pity on us and painstakingly pedalled us, inch by inch in the blazing open-topped 45 degree celsius heat, to the intersection ("cutting") for Auroville. Felt ashamed to have made him haul us like that with the force of his body. Also ironic to see that he made no demand for money, content to take whatever we gave him. While the autorickshaw guy had to be negotiated down from some ridiculous price, like the latest round of the WTO round of talks.

From there we took an autorickshaw for the eight-odd kilometres to Auroville. It's like going to a mini-France. A couple hot French hunks and femmes cycling or motor-biking contently up and down in the BLISTERING heat without a stitch of clothing on their torsos. We stopped for a pee near some shrubbery. Smiled at a passing bearded red Frenchie and said "Bonjour"."Salut!". he smiled back."La vie est belle?", he asked."Ouais", I smiled back.

Somehow, I didn't feel the oppressive heat so much anymore. We finally reached the MATRIMANDIR (or the temple of the Mother). On the way Ani gave me a good rudimentary knowledge of the intricate philosophy that governs the Auroville movement. Or as it is known to some of the lesser intellectually inclined - just dope and chill! Trooped into the visitor center, full of respectful, Tamilian families. We were shown a video on the place, and then asked to walk to the MATRIMANDIR. The walk was pretty though hot and dusty. We finally came to the temple... which was under renovation so we couldn't enter! DANG!!

The massive globe-shaped temple is covered with brilliantly shining solar panels, being installed one by one. Talk to watchman there. Initially abrasive, he relented as we conversed and in the end, he was euphoric to meet someone from Bombay (where he spend the decade of the sixties of the last century). He said in his Madrasi Hindi: "Aapako dyakha jee, hamako saba yaada aaya - Latha Mangeshkar, Dev Anand, Sunil Gavaskar, Sachin Tendulkar, saba yaada aaya!"Lovely nutritious salad and rice lunch at the Matri café. There were goras only, and they shared the limited number of portable fans to maximise benefit. We were kindly passed one fan. Had a lovely hibiscus flower syrup drink, to go with the power of flowers philosophy of Ma that A. mentioned. Had glasses and glasses of it.

Took the same rick to Pondicherry, where I bought some photo film. On to Aurobindo + Ma's samadhi at the Ashram in the French quarter. We'd timed ourselves excellently. As we placed our shoes at the counter across the street, the ashram had just opened. Pretty French and Tamoul girls glid by on bikes with flowers in the front basket. Little Rue de la This, Rue de la That signs at every street corner, with the cutest French architectured houses all around. Delightful!!

At the samadhi, we placed our heads on the cool marble and looked at the intricate arrangement of flowers which are supposed to have a lot of power. Meditated there for a while, felt very peaceful. Smiled beatifically at everyone, and was smiled beatifically back at by a cute Frenchy, and this sleepy, spiritual smiling continued till A. prodded me in the ribs and hissed it was time to move on. Went to the library. Here, the mother's books have been displayed in all languages on Earth (plus a few from other solar systems). posted by Wild Reeds at 10:01 AM 20 comments