A bicycle ride along the Trail of Rama part II

I had descended the final part of the cave and found myself in Vāli Gopha. I looked up, realising that from every direction, I was enclosed by rock. In the middle of the small space, however, lay one piece of stone a few feet high. It was painted orange, and had on it a picture of Shiva. A trident stood next to the rock. I was amazed that such a place existed, in the heart of this mountain.

The cave seemed so detached from its surroundings, that it seemed to be in a world of its own. Reflecting, I could think of only two words to describe it, Shakti and Shaant, Strength and calm.

The sun pierced the rocks, breaking through the few spaces between them, accompanied only by the gentle touch of the wind.

I had assumed it was the place where Vali was trapped, and I started my adventure back out of the cave to my bike, retracing the arrows but following them in the opposite direction. It was only around 10am by this point but it was already touching 30 degrees. I felt like it was time to get a drink, and so picking up my bike, I found a small stall just outside the mandir.

I asked for a cold drink, and the owner, an older man with a modest smile, knowing I was not a local, replied in almost faultless English. I was surprised and we started talking. He told me that he was a retired engineer who chose to spend his days here working behind the stall, because it brought him a peace that he been unable to find elsewhere.

I asked him about the place I had just visited and he told me that it was not where Vali was trapped, but where he did his penance to Shiva, giving him his incredible power. It was this penance, he told me, that meant Vali could only be killed through a trick rather than in a fight. The feelings that came to me in the cave suddenly started to make sense. Shakti and Shaant.

Furthermore, he asked me if I had been to Anegundi. Remembering the name rang a bell I recalled that it was the temple I had found earlier. Intrigued, he told me that it was believed to be the place where Rama killed Vali. It turned out that I had stumbled upon the location of a main chapter of the Ramayana, by accident.

Enjoying how my day was unfolding, I thanked the owner Sirnath, and continued my journey. I rode my bike down the winding paths of the hills, feeling as free as I ever had.

I now went in search of Anjanaya Hill. A temple 600 steps up a hill, that was said to mark the birthplace of Hanuman.