I don't know how I was born long ago. I have grown old. Still I recall some of the memories of my past life. Some of the workers in the village toiled hard to bring me up in the lap of nature. There is paddy field to the East, Ganges to the South and mango grove to the left of my side. Two senior members of the village—a banyan tree and a peepul tree—stood on both sides of me. I was brought up under the cool shade of their branches extending over my head. After a few days I became an attraction of all the pilgrims in and around the village. There was an idol of Lord Shiva at the shrine of my chamber. Many people used to visit the shrine, carrying Ganges water in two containers hung from a pole on their shoulder. I felt very proud as the followers of Lord Shiva came to me with their devotional offerings and prayed to the Lord particularly during the rainy season.
At that time there was a fair around me. I was really glad to see the children coming with their parents to visit me. When the devotees cleansed me or coloured me from time to time I felt very proud. I used to pray to God to retain my beauty and glory for a long time. Most of my earlier days were not full of happiness. I was really shocked to see the orthodox Hindus driving out someone from my portals only for casteism. I witnessed the misery of being untouchable. Sometimes even I couldn't control myself. I thought of protesting against it. But I was temple, made of rocks and stones. I couldn't express my feelings and emotions. So, I was a mute observer of the sin. But no one is a greater magician than time. Time can only tell what will happen afterwards. Many years had passed by after my birth. In spite of being an abode of God I had grown old. I did not have my youthful glamour any more. I had withstood the scorching heat and biting cold for many years. There were many carvings of stone on my body. Some of them couldn't survive and perished in course of time. They crumbled down. Plenty of cracks developed on my body. I couldn't protect the altar of Lord Shiva from the rain. Even Lord Shiva seemed to be in a state of disgrace. I invited some creepers and weeds to go over me and protect the idol from exposure.
Once I had been the happy hunting ground of many pilgrims. I had carved a niche in the mind of the people. My name found a place in the pages of local history. But everything had passed into oblivion. One day, the huge bell hanging from the ceiling of the temple fell down with a loud noise. It broke into many pieces. Lord Shiva's companion, Nandi had been pale and disfigured. What was a spot for an opera show inside my body had become a shelter of pigeons and bats. A few days ago, the headmen of the village came to me and thought of appointing a mason to improve my health. Really I wanted to live in this world with Lord Shiva in my chamber. I hoped He would bless me to fulfil my dream.
Thank you...
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