It was 6 am and the sun was peeping from the horizon. As a golden hue graced the misty landscape before us, we alighted from our rooftop perch to savour some hard-earned tea.
Later in the day, we walked down to the Bhoramdeo temple. A narrow raised causeway, flanked by an unkempt, hyacinth infested pond provides access to the temple.
Famed as the 'Khajuraho of the East', this 11th Century edifice is best known for its erotic sculptures. Considering the size and scale of the Khajuraho temple complex, this would not even qualify of a poor man's version of the original. However, on its own, it exudes the kind of peace and tranquility that Khajuraho can never hope to attain. Moreover, while active worship ceased at Khajuraho eons ago, it still is very much in practice here.
After breakfast, we visited a 14th Century Shiv Temple, a kilometre down the road from our guest house. This quiet, almost forgotten temple felt like a source of pure energy. Half an hour spent in its proximity is enough to charge the most jaded soul.
I needed all the energy I could get for the drive that lay ahead of me, though I did not know it at the time. What was supposed to be a 100 km, 2.5 hour drive tuned out to be a six hour marathon that traversed 186 kilometres of hill, vale and rutted plain. Mile after mile of single lane highways, often poorly surfaced does not a joyous drive make. The only redeeming part of the drive was the last 50 odd kilometre stretch through enchanting forest land.
We arrived at Achanakmar at around 6 pm, though it felt more like 9. A sip of local brew, a sumptuous dinner of oily country-style chicken and a plan for an exciting safari drove the Chattisgarh blues away. Tiger, tiger burning bright...
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