<p class="bodytext">For many, a pilgrimage may appear drab, involving long queues and traditional attire. Although the devout amongst young travellers regularly plan pilgrimages, for most it is a post-retirement agenda. It is better late than never, and I recently planned an Ahobilam trip with my better half and a “face-it-all” attitude. I had heard from the host that visiting the temples involved ‘some’ trekking, as they were in the dense forests of the Nallamala hills. But this information proved to be an understatement. The first day saw me, a person who never went on foot beyond the portals of her home, the reason being a defiant knee, climbing 900 steep steps with the help of a sturdy stick. Following Newton’s third law of motion, I had to necessarily descend those steps. This took every shred of my determination, and at times my hand leaned on the kind shoulder of the young guide or the energetic better half. I even squatted and slid down the steps to rest my hurting knee -- not a sustainable option. But surprisingly, my exhaustion vanished as I stood before the idol of the deity, Lord Narasimha.</p>.Alphabet’s AI critics are asking the wrong questions.<p class="bodytext">There were five temples in all, separated by stretches of treks and flights of steps in the jungle. Having observed my efforts, the 20-something guide seemed suitably impressed that two seniors indeed had done the trek and climb. The next day was planned for two more Narasimha temples, and to our relief, we were told that it would be a jeep drive. But we were shaken out of our comfort zone as soon as the jeep left the road and entered the jungle, through the heap of stones placed on a cleared space in the jungle. That was the path, and our 18-km joyride had begun, with no warning!</p>.<p class="bodytext">Staying balanced on our seats became the challenge, as the jeep made queer sounds as it bumped along the path. It looked as if the driver’s hands were hardly on the wheel, and soon, the hard cover of the steering wheel fell off with a thud, and we next waited for the wheel to leap out of the jeep. The vehicle jumped over rocks and small streams beneath, branches leaned curiously inside the jeep, and it was indeed surprising that we managed to keep the bile down although we had started soon after breakfast.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The jeep stopped near the first temple, and we were relieved to find ourselves in one piece as we disembarked. But the access to the second temple was through a 200-metre trek and a climb of 110 steep steps. The sun was high above, and taking the lord’s name, I started climbing, and I couldn't believe I had conquered the peak. Once again the sight of the deity was the prize. Did someone say faith can move a mountain? It certainly moved my recalcitrant knee.</p>
<p class="bodytext">For many, a pilgrimage may appear drab, involving long queues and traditional attire. Although the devout amongst young travellers regularly plan pilgrimages, for most it is a post-retirement agenda. It is better late than never, and I recently planned an Ahobilam trip with my better half and a “face-it-all” attitude. I had heard from the host that visiting the temples involved ‘some’ trekking, as they were in the dense forests of the Nallamala hills. But this information proved to be an understatement. The first day saw me, a person who never went on foot beyond the portals of her home, the reason being a defiant knee, climbing 900 steep steps with the help of a sturdy stick. Following Newton’s third law of motion, I had to necessarily descend those steps. This took every shred of my determination, and at times my hand leaned on the kind shoulder of the young guide or the energetic better half. I even squatted and slid down the steps to rest my hurting knee -- not a sustainable option. But surprisingly, my exhaustion vanished as I stood before the idol of the deity, Lord Narasimha.</p>.Alphabet’s AI critics are asking the wrong questions.<p class="bodytext">There were five temples in all, separated by stretches of treks and flights of steps in the jungle. Having observed my efforts, the 20-something guide seemed suitably impressed that two seniors indeed had done the trek and climb. The next day was planned for two more Narasimha temples, and to our relief, we were told that it would be a jeep drive. But we were shaken out of our comfort zone as soon as the jeep left the road and entered the jungle, through the heap of stones placed on a cleared space in the jungle. That was the path, and our 18-km joyride had begun, with no warning!</p>.<p class="bodytext">Staying balanced on our seats became the challenge, as the jeep made queer sounds as it bumped along the path. It looked as if the driver’s hands were hardly on the wheel, and soon, the hard cover of the steering wheel fell off with a thud, and we next waited for the wheel to leap out of the jeep. The vehicle jumped over rocks and small streams beneath, branches leaned curiously inside the jeep, and it was indeed surprising that we managed to keep the bile down although we had started soon after breakfast.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The jeep stopped near the first temple, and we were relieved to find ourselves in one piece as we disembarked. But the access to the second temple was through a 200-metre trek and a climb of 110 steep steps. The sun was high above, and taking the lord’s name, I started climbing, and I couldn't believe I had conquered the peak. Once again the sight of the deity was the prize. Did someone say faith can move a mountain? It certainly moved my recalcitrant knee.</p>
