The temple dedicated to Hanuman was again, as in Chitrakoot, located 600 steps up a magnificent hill. Parking my bike at its base, I started my ascent, trying to block out the fierce heat, focusing only on the task ahead.
With each step up, I could see more of Hampi, and its beauty continued to captivate me. After about 400 steps I started to tire. The morning of cycling had started to take its toll, and so I stopped, taking some time to appreciate all before me. However, soon after, I was quickly overtaken by a pair of elderly women, wearing sandals and sarees. They stopped next to me and we started talking. Although conversation was hard to follow, it was what was not said by these two that spoke to me. Although the way they held themselves indicated a fatigue, their faces would not show it. Wearing only a smile and bright eyes, it seemed as though it was a journey they had completed many times before, and would complete many times again. It reminded me about the power of this myth, this legend, and how alive it is to all those that follow it.
Reaching the top, finally, I was greeted by a small structure. It stood humbly admist the strength of the wind. Hanuman is the the son of Vayu, the God of Wind, and so feeling its presence, I couldn’t help but think that it was Vayu still watching over his son. Once Hanuman was struck by the weapons of the God Indra, and in his anger Vayu took away all the air on the earth. If that was his anger, then maybe this breeze was his blessing.
I walked into the temple and encountered a single man singing the Hanuman Chalisa, and it filled me with joy. For the few verses I knew, we sung together, and we smiled.
Hanuman is strength and power. He is will and determination. He is wisdom and devotion. He is a friend to all those around him. Hanuman is the one who as a child, thought the sun was a mango, and desperate to eat it, flew up to the heavens to take hold of it. Hanuman is joy, and he brings hope to all those that follow him.
In all the places I have been to that have Hanuman as their focus, I have seen this. His birth place was a reminder of all of this and his humility. The very fact that at its centre rested a shrine to Rama, Sita and Lakshmana, with Hanuman only on the periphery is perhaps the best example of this.
I have realised that perhaps Hanuman is often depicted in orange, because that is the colour of the feelings he inspires in those around him. His bright, illuminating glow cannot help but fill the hearts of those who follow him, even as the sun upon rising, will bring light to the darkest parts of the Earth. I understood why those two women I had seen climbing the hill did so with a smile, in spite of the immense difficulty it posed them. They wanted to see the birthplace of Hanuman, the orange beacon at the top of this hill of Hampi.
Feeling a complete contentment at how my day had unfurled, I began my climb down the hill, looking out onto the vast landscape. The rocks still exuding their orange glow, one that I understood so much more now. I had one more stop on my trail and that was Rishyamookh hill, the location where Rama met Hanuman and Sugriva for the first time.
Asking a few locals for direction, I eventually found a quite ashram, and again leaving my bike, I crossed a small stream and encountered three Sadhus. One, with a beard so long that it tickled his belly button, another asleep on the ground, and a third who upon seeing me, opened up the small cave, which hosted icons of Hanuman and Sugriva. After appreciating this immensely powerful space, I exited, and was greeted by the third Sadhu.
I was again offered lunch, and after my experience at Sharabhanga’s ashram, it was a lunch I was happy to eat, and one welcomed all the more by my stomach which seemed to growl in anger at the rough morning it had had. However, it was soon soothed, and keen to ask questions, I started talking to the third Sadhu, perhaps still working off the excitement the day had provided me with. He smiled, and looked at me.
‘Eat first, talk after.’
I laughed to myself and continued to eat. A few minutes had passed and he said a few words to me. I replied, and thinking it was okay to talk again, I continued enthusiastically to ask questions.
‘Eat first, talk after,’ he repeated.
I finished my food, and seeing the coconut and the ash I found myself knowing exactly how to clean my plate, and after doing so, I was able to ask my questions.
We discussed what happened here, how long he had been here, and what he thought of the Ramayana. I could tell that with all his heart he believed the Ramayana was true, and with this sheer conviction telling me all I needed to know, I thanked him and set off back to my guest house. It has been a long morning. I was hot, tired and my legs had started to cramp up with a few hundred metres to get back. But, I could not have wished for a more perfect day. I had set out wishing to see only a few places, but the wealth of the Ramayana showed itself to me, and for that, I am grateful.
After seeing a few more sights in the morning, I said goodbye to Hampi. It’s orange glow will always remind me of the joy that Hampi brings when on the Trail of Rama.
Well narrated.