Mysore

Nectar filling up in Cathy's hand from the tiny enamel picture. It was taken from one hand to another more than a dozen times while we were watching, filling each one.


I'm a bit behind with these posts. The day we arrived in India was a big festival occasion, particularly at Sai Baba's ashram where the crowds get enormous, so we decided to make a short detour to Mysore on the fast air conditioned train. Only a couple of hours later we were in a comfortable hotel quite close to the Maharaja's magnificent palace. Doing a tour of the palace revealed that it was in fact designed by an Englshman. However the main purpose of our trip to Mysore was to go out of town to a small temple next to the Cauvery River. It is dedicated to Sai Baba, and in it are 2 small enamel pictures of Sai Baba (as one would put in a locket), about the size and thickness of a fingernail. These small pictures have been oozing a sweet highly perfumed syrup called Amrit (the nectar of the gods) for over 40 years. I took a photo of one in Cathy's hand while the nectar filled up her palm and was then scooped out with a spoon as it continued to fill again. Those tiny pictures have been producing about a litre of the fluid every day. Sai Baba is well known as a miracle worker and has produced fragrant ash from his fingers on a daily basis for years (I once saw it from a distance of 6 inches) and at that temple a large photo has had it perpetually manifesting on the photo. As it builds up it falls with gravity and is then given away. Symbolically, ash is a representation of Truth as it cannot undergo further change.
On a more prosaic note, next to the temple was the old walled city of Srirangapatnam where Arthur Wellesley defeated Tipu Sultan, the last of the South Indian princes to defy the British. Wellesley then went on to defeat Napoleon and become known as Wellington.
Although we continued on to Puttaparti, I will write that on the next post.