Bhojpur is a tiny place about an hour from Bhopal in India. Its main claim to fame is a Shiv Temple called as Bhojeshwar Temple and I decided to take the aged P’s and myself to go visit it. Early in the morning. So that we have a good time before the heat strikes and I get to say hello to the Old Man. Took quite a lot of the photographs so the entire expedition has been divided into chapters. This is the first one from the bridge over the river Betwa. A local story says that Kunti abandoned Karn on the banks of this river. Exact location unknown. So its a bit personal from many angles. We named our son as Karn as he is the son of the Sun God, Surya. I am named after the Sun God as well. Quite an interesting story with loads of parallels and over runs.
Can you see some of the spots on the water? that’s the sign of aquatic creatures like fish or frogs etc. coming up to take a gulp of air or what have you. presumably by this time, the oxygen content of the water would be near starvation levels.
Panning right, more scrubs. One has to be fairly hardy to survive in this stony hillside, eh? But this land is so lush when the monsoon descends here. It is lovely, carpeted in a brilliant green cover. Love the land.
The river bank is not that high surprisingly. I wonder why? Is that because the water is being drawn away upstream? Could well be. Indian rivers are severely stressed.
A bird plucked a fish from the water and then flew off. A riverbank with a bundle of clothes in the middle. What a calm scene. I was standing there imagining Kunti, crouching down next to the river, putting her son into a bundle of clothes into a basket and then letting the basket float down around the bend and then disappear from her life. Till she again meets him on the battlefield of Kurukshetra where she goes to him to beg for the life of her other son, Arjun. What a massively poignant tale. This spoke to me. One day I will bring Karn down here and hope he will see what I see and if he hears closely, he could, just possibly could hear the subdued sobs of Kunti whispering on the winds which swirl around the river bank.
Well, enough of gawking at the river, I came here to see the temple. Plus the aged P’s were grumbling at each other.