So here it is, with Mark still a bit under the weather Rian and I decide to go off to the temple at Mylapore. An amazing thing of beauty and at last we get out into what maybe could be called real Chennai. We take an auto-rickshaw thing, possibly called a Tuc Tuc… but who knows… So what happens next is important. We are tourists. Always we think we are never tourists. WE are interested in culture not that vulgar thing that those flipping people get up to. No, we are tourists and of course we get touted for business. Aggressive like the voice of change that shouldn’t happen. So next we wander around the streets of Mylapore. And then indulge again in the wonderful chain so called of food. The tank, the tank… so here it is for me, Ramanujan’s place of worship and what are the things to do but misplace my hope and fall deeply into your arms.
This day gets better and better. How does one get anywhere? Simple, you try harder and hope that something happens. We eventually get a taxi. Quite rubbish how but. So I take Rian and Mark to a local temple to listen and see. It is the most brilliant and moving experience. I have mixed feelings about love, devotion, religion and a mesmerising nonsense that stretches off into the mystic but still here we are in a temple in Chennai and it makes sense. People are so beautiful they help and welcome and don’t judge. Priests, children and all just welcome us into their world. I am humbled and inspired. There is a thing that I’ll never know. But hopefully I’ll be able always to wonder.