Nellaiyappar temple-few pics n some stories

Had the chance to visit the Nellaiyappar temple in Tirunelveli recently and this time managed to get a few pics of the structures inside.

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The photograph(s) above is tht of the musical pillars tht I had spoken abt in the previous entry on the same topic.

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The sublime notes emanating from the pillars never lose their sense of mystery. The surface of these pillars have been worn smooth by hands, some of which might have twiddled them with the same sense of awe that percolates my mind. When I drum them, with my ears as close as possible,…they hum tunes which might not have changed much in the centuries tht it has been imposing it’s presence on the banks of the Thamiraparani.

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This is what I call organized vandalism. The stone surfaces bear inscriptions of the ‘Bhakthi Kaala Tamizh‘. People have destroyed these scriptures in the garb of maintenance.

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The above is of the beautiful 1000 pillared hall in the same temple.

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The above pic is a random one of buorgeois in the same temple.

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This pic is a personal favourite of mine for reasons as simple as the play of light on one of the sculptures in the pillars of the temple. I have for long tried to figure out why the pillars have sculptures of these strange beings. I strongly believe that temples have symbolism attached to all that is present/ performed within their precincts. I wonder what reason icould possibly be there behind these sculptures.

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This picture is of the imposing ‘Mandapam’ of the ‘Kasi-Viswanathar’ Temple in ‘Then-Kasi’. A beauty in the twilight zone of the day.

My personal apologies for the grains in the photographs,…they were taken with a 2 megapixel camera in night mode and then compressed for purposes of uploading. Still I guess the essence remains unchanged.

Have you?

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I do not know how to put it in words,…Lemme try

There are these moments when I feel so far away from the people around me,…It is not a matter of distance,…it is a matter of familiarity and in this space I feel so close to somebody.

My point of discussion is that I do not know who this is,…I do not know if it is one of my friends who are so far away from me. I do not know if it is somebody I have lost touch with. I do not know if it is somebody I am yet to meet.

I see the frost on my car windshield which is fleeting as the moment and I am reminded of this connection. I try hard to concentrate and find out some more,…but I have never succeeded.

I do not know if this makes sense,…it is almost like a wrong number,…you never know who you are talking to and the chance of talking to the same person is like close to zero. There is no purpose in the conversation and the mind is so disturbed that we hardly speak any sense and end up apologising for the mistake and cut the call as soon as possible. The irony is that it is nobody’s mistake. Even the telephone company would put it om the wrong side of their six sigma curve. That seals it.

But the feeling lingers and the aromas are deep in my mind.

The context when they repeat are never predictable. It might be a traffic intersection,…it might be gentle breeze on the sea front,…I have very little clue about the stimulus,…but one thing which is common is the strong sense of disconnect that I feel when I chew on these feelings,…

Even the sense of disconnect becomes ironical in that sometimes I realise that there was no coherence in my role as compared to the situation to start with. There was nothing to start with,…and the shadow-boxer plays as a sort of wake-up call,…

Sounds messy like noodles,…just munch on it and wash it down with a cup of milk,…

Refreshing,…