India – Trip to Elephanta
The day we arrived at the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel in Mumbai marked exactly one year since ten separate bombings took place in several parts of Mumbai, including the hotel - killing almost 200 people and wounding over 300. That explained the many police cars and militia surrounding the hotel when we arrived, as well as the airport-like security just to enter the hotel. Then there were militia of some kind by every elevator in the hotel – and one that watched our room 24/7. That's the "Taj" on the left – very imposing and grand building.
With all that in mind, we signed up for a trip to the Elephanta Caves, site of high reliefs carved from the stone of the mountain, worshipping Shiva. Truly, the carvings are amazing, both in their immensity and in their attention to detail. To the right is one of the main carvings, with 3 faces of Shiva. It's difficult to imagine the hugeness of this one from a picture.
It is an hour's trip by ferry from Mumbai to the island mountain. I felt a bit tentative even crossing the plaza to get to the ferry, OK, a lot tentative, as I took my place out of the sun, on the open-sided ferry. Stern faces met my every glance. They could all be bombers for all I knew. Maybe this trip to Elephanta was to be the bombers' way of celebrating the year before. Maybe it was my last trip to anywhere. I withdrew into my fear, seeing possible danger from any corner.
Then a little boy about 2 years old, thrilled to be in his father's arms and feeling the wind and sun on his face, started screaming. I was startled at first, then relaxed with a smile as I saw the laughter on his face. Something in me shifted. I decided to enjoy this trip as much as that little boy, even if it were my last. So I experimented, smiling at different fellow-passengers – even the previously-hostile-seeming young men with bandanas around their heads. Lo and behold, they smiled back. The more I smiled, the more they smiled – most everyone was smiling.
By the time we reached the island, our particular ferry seemed to be downright festive! The whole rest of the trip, strangers came to us, asking where we were from, trying out their English, asking to have their picture made with us – almost like we were some kind of visiting stars.
Once again, I am astounded by the power of the mind – either to determine my fate, or to be bridled by my mastery. This time, I won – and had wonderful connections – people connections.
Love this post – the more I read, the bigger I smiled. Thanks
I just caught up on your India posts. I am so grateful to know you, Ann. Your shares brought tears to my eyes. I’m blessed to know such a wise woman as you.
A longstanding myth holds that Shah Jahan planned a mausoleum to be built in black marble across the Yamuna river. The idea originates from fanciful writings of Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, a European traveller who visited Agra in 1665. It was suggested that Shah Jahan was overthrown by his son Aurangzeb before it could be built.