What strikes you about Diu distinctly is the fact that it seems so untouched by the masses that one doesn’t feel like tampering with the picturesque painting that it is in itself. All pristine, the water is a hue of blue ink dropped in a glass tumbler.
I took out the old battered hand-drawn map again and set out again to explore what a flood had forbidden me to.
It was on the day of ‘Maha-Shiva-Ratri’ , the night of Shiva the hermit, that I left with a group in the morning, to scale the fort of Sinhagarh, translated as ‘fort
of the lion’, which was inhabited years ago by the Chatra-pati Shivaji Maharaj Bhosle.
Round and round we went along the road which curled around the hill like a coiled serpent.The water was a dark green when the sun shone over it and the color of lapis lazuli when clouds took over the sun.
Tickets were bought instantly and then , as if by satanic providence , a computerized voice announced a two-hour delay!
Through the windshield , the bastard was clearly visible – the dead frog.
Nonetheless , the following night , a pack of six foolhardy youths sneaked out of their college periphery (owing to lack of permission) and set out to set the Thames on fire ! or the Arabian sea , or… hell! the Gulf of Cambay on fire !!!
After a rousing speech by the Antiblack , we embarked on a second attempt to conquer the bats and their cave. Well , better the devil you know , than the devil you don’t!
Shiva performing Tandava , the cataclysmic prance , which heralds apocalypse much the same as the horn of Israpheel ( Raphael ) in Abrahamic mythology.Ganesh missing both tusks instead of just missing one , gods with hands hacked off , and Lakshmi with breasts hacked off. Clearly , the caves had been vandalized by invaders.
It all began with a trip to the Andaman and Nicobar islands which , apart from being a refreshing one , was also a purely imaginary one , for the event never actually took place.