In Limbo 2

With the writer's, copywriter's, journalist's and the artist's world being turned upside down by the unsettling efficiency of Chat-GPT and its successive versions,  the need to take a break from Travel Diaries to ponder over my own role as the one who also dwells in such domains has precipitated a natural pause.  The power and the speed of this new tool was brought home to me recently during our mom's eightieth birthday celebration. My oldest sis came up with the idea to prepare a hand-bound booklet, where all of our mom's offsprings, grandchildren, son-and-daughter-in-laws had the opportunity to dedicate a poem, painting or prose to commemorate her life.  Interestingly, and to everyone 's great surprise, the longest poem, neatly stanzaed with aabb rhyme pattern was churned out by one of her techie grandkids. Unable to bear the burden of much undue admiration, he landed up confessing, "I didn't write it, Chat GPT did". Just by feeding his grand

We pause outside Rameshwar temple, struck by the contrast  between its stoic silence as it stands on a raised ground and the sound of evening picnickers who throng to the well-manicured green lawns surrounding it. Children laugh and run around. Parents sit and chat. The tangibles  and intangibles of all existence are encapsulated here in the recoiling shadows of this 9th century temple complex. It is a reminder that nothing lasts forever, yet the spirit endures, much like a dew drop now shimmering in the sun, and now disappeared without a trace save for memory.  So, what finally remains is only a self reeling under the stars, spinning across the universe, hurtling against the ruins of its own crumbling thoughts and crushed under the impact of innumerable actions and reactions... everything else turns to debris. Yet, for now, these temples make us partake in the divine artistry of the ancient visionaries,  whose love for the Imperishable bled so seamlessly into their own finite creation

  "Our gods have to be blamed for the population explosion in the country," I quip while admiring the flowing sculptures of copulating figures on the temple walls from the tenth century. It is late afternoon and the spring sun hovers in the west, still bright and tepid. Some young local boys have decided to use this scenic Rajarani temple complex in Bhuvaneshwar as the location for a rap number they wish to release on YouTube. In my mind there could not have been a more ideal backdrop than this magnificent exterior which celebrates life in all its facets. "I think the ancients decided to  carve all the lovemaking positions on sacred monuments for the future generations to learn," my friend has her own take. Happily expounding upon her statement, she adds, "in anticipation of a war which could have destroyed the entire  civilization, our ancestors chose to depict the process of procreation in the most frequented public places. The temples being the most importa