 Once inside the temple we took off our shoes. In turn, we each rang a brass bell that sat above the entrance. The first thing to hit me was the enormous sense of peace that I felt inside the temple. It was hard to believe that the madness of Connaught Square was only yards away. We followed a marble walkway that led us to an inner sanctum. Directly opposite were two large tablets inscribed in Sanskrit, standing at about six feet in height. In the middle of the floor was a a small marble bath. Inside this sat a brass cobra that dripped water out of its tongue. Below this was a large red stone, shaped like a mango. The stone, which was also wet, was sanguine in colour and seemed almost alive. I sat on the floor and said some prayers. At the side of me, there was one of the temples attendants, sweeping the floor of the many coloured leaves and petals that are showered in devotion. I continued to pray and began to experience a very intense feeling of spirituality. I felt sad and yet happy and a conviction that I should accept and enjoy whatever experiences came to me during my time in India. Its difficult to explain what happened, it was quite unlike any of the experiences I have when I meditate. What I can say is that I came out of the inner sanctum of the temple feeling blessed and privileged to be here in India. Back on the streets I felt as though I could handle anything - which was just as well. Before long, we were back on Connaught Street, facing the tide of cars, rickshaws, street sellers, beggars, tramps and thieves. We then called into a café and devoured pop and water as if we had not drunk for days. Brian had occupied himself with a local Indian paper. He leaned over and read out my stars, very positive predictions. Back at the YWCA the heat in the rooms was so intense the only way to sleep was to continue reading till you fell into a deep slumber with lights on and book still in hand
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