AN OLD TEMPLE (autobiography)

I don't know how I was born long ago. I have grown old now. Still I recall some memories of my past. Some of the workers in the Village toiled hard to bring me up in the lap of nature. There were paddy fields to the East, Ganges to the South and mango Grove to the left of my side. Two senior members of the village-- a banyan tree and a peepul tree-- stood on both side of me. I was brought up under the cool shade of their branches extending over my head. After a few days I became an attraction of all the pilgrims in and around the village. There was an idle of Lord Shiva at the shrine of my chamber. Many people used to visit the shrine, carrying Ganges water containers huge from a pole on their shikders. I felt very proud as the followers of Lord Shiva came to me with their devotional offerings and played to the Lord particularly during the rainy season. At that time there was a fair around me. I was really glad to see the children coming their parents to visit me. When the devotees cleansed me or coloured me from time to time I felte very proud. I used to pray to God to retain my beauty and glory for a long time. Most of my earlier days were not full of happiness. I was really shocked to the Orthodox. Hindus driving out some of my portals only for casteism. I witnessed the misery of being untouchable. Sometimes, I couldn't even control myself. I thought of my protesting against it. But I was a mere temple, made of rocks and stones. I couldn't express my feelings and emotions. So, I was only a mute observer of the sin. But no one is a greater magician than time. Time can only tell what will happens afterwards. Many years had passed by after my birth. In spite of being an abode of God I have grown old. I did not have my youthful glamour any more