After a quick domestic flight from Mumbai to Amdavad airport being the only place I could guess I acquired a taxi to Amdavad railway station. I found a quiet corner, placed my belongs down, seated and paused focus to think about where to go next. It wasn’t more than a few minutes when people started together around me, ten minutes later a crowd had accumulated. I man in his mid-forties came through the commotion and said “lots of people have gathered, police will be here soon, this very bad, we must go, do you have a hotel?”; rousing my sleepy conciousness from light headed bewilderment he motioned me over to his rickshaw, I followed, he transported me swiftly to a hotel and said he would return in the morning.
That morning true to his word he returned; he said it was important for me to go to a temple about 70km away and that he would take me to State Transport bus station and put me on the bus to a devotional town called Becharaji. The bus journey was long, bus seats where wooden and road dusty, the pop rivet bus squeaked and rattled disturbing any chance of sleep that might be recoverable from nines hours of Jet lag.
The temple was surrounded by a fortress, Mongols had previously invaded northern India, building mosques over demolished temples; Hindus were told to convert to Islam or die. As I walked through the fortress gate the temple appeared before me, busy groups of people came to a stand still and turned focus on me, I stood still, a group came over leaded by a women in her mid thirties. She broke off from the group and approached, she bent down touch my toes. I could see light coming from her crown, I reached out my right hand to touch, as I motioned forward triangles of light emerged. Thousands of triangles opened around her crown, lines of light straightening, adjoining to form a flower.