learning--praying with father
They say the footprints in sand get blown away in wind. But what if the foot prints are in stone, in temples, in architecture, in the gurgling river water, and past etched on the lives of people today. You are able to live at least in part the life, culture, society and economy. Jhalawar and its vignette in Jhalrapatan, Chandrawati, Kolvi, Gagron Fort and the embrace of mighty Kali Sindh and Ahu rivers offer you albeit diluted a slice of history intact in myriad ways.
what touches me most is that i can see the great beauty on the walls of Shantinathji and Sun temples still reflected in the streets of Jhalrapatan. The city lives on we do not know since when; the 10th century sun temple is but one intermediate point in its historicity.
the golden marigold flowers like the rays of morning sun that kiss the Sun temple first thing in the morning, the matronly ladies lovingly string together in necklaces of these fiery flowers to adorn the gods. Nothing has changed since 1100 years and the temple had the same sun-coloured flowers around gods and goddesses.
Like the father who brings his son every morning to the temple to pray to gods for bounty for the land and its people, to give the right thought, kindness and compassion is just the way it was 1100 years earlier. the beautfiful bangles and the necklaces that adorned lovely ladies necks and arms are still being made near the temple and women crowd in the shops as they did 1100 years before.
Is it less wonderful that the priest sh. Purushottam Ji recites the same shlokas to invoke gods as they did 1100 years past.
Is it not wonderful to have the same fragrance of incense waft from the temple to the streets around as it used to 11 centuries back in time.
Is it not wonderful to find Jhalrapatan of yore in today's Jhalrapatan?