The honey pot

The never ending custom-made tales of grandma had a heady mix of heroic episodes rooted in the royal past of many kingdoms and elegantly laced pearls of wisdom.

Inflaming our excitement, the valiant always embarked on a journey to prove their prowess, to conquer the land, the pretty women and to amass the priceless wealth. The daring hunt for treasure stashed in mysterious havens had always been astounding.

Those tales, however, hardly served the purpose - to put the tiny tots to sleep. Instead, with eyes wide open and owe-struck, we spent many sleepless nights fabricating new fairytales in the well-suited darkness.

The dreams of a middleclass Malayali is often woven around the unexplored fortunes in a far away land. What stands testimony to this assumption is the ever-increasing number of migrants sweating it out in the desert land of Gulf, the US and even in the ice-cold Scandinavian countries. The grapevine has it that a ‘chai-loving’ typical Malayali ‘Chandretan’ has already made inroads into the moon.

No doubt, the revelation of a best-kept secret in the shady vaults of Sri Padmanabhaswamy temple in Thiruvananthapuram has prompted the whole world to wake up even in the midddle of the night and revive their arithmetic skills. Counting the countless bounty owned by the ‘lord of eternal repose’ has caught the fancy of everyone rapidly. Interestingly, even a kid in Ananthapuri knew their god was the richest. Well, they know better that the opening of the widely-debated B vault, which has a secret passage leading to the sea, will only invite the worst.

“There is nothing new in the findings as it’s well-known that our swamy, who is saving Ananthapuri from being submerged in the sea, has enormous wealth. The mad rush driven by materialistic curiosity to the temple is ridiculous. We, true devotees, lost the peace of mind. Meditating in the midst of doubting armed men and nosy media needs lot more ‘celebrity’ pretentions,” rues my aunt, who chants the lord’s name more times than her husband’s.

After a long chat, I got a better understanding of what makes her, and many others, fume over the superfluous media glare at the temple and the chaos that followed. My aunt and uncle, retired unhurt and happily settled, were the regular visitors to the temple. A healthy early-morning walk to get divine blessings from the god of good and bad times.

Truth be told, life has not been easy for the devout after the temple vaults were broken open. Like bees drawn into honey, many made a beeline for the temple. In no time, the lathi and gun-wielding pot-bellied men arrived to the spot to ‘scan’ the visitors. Soon, those seeking spiritual solace have been swarmed by people oozing all kinds of negative energy-apprehension, scepticism, fears of robbery and bomb blast. It has reached unacceptable levels vitiating the serene ambience, my aunt yells, voice hoarse. “Wake up god!”

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