In the evening, the summer appeared gently with no harsh tones, just a soft a tender sunlight on trees and stones. Trees and stones co-existed in the ambient light even without a unifying camera light from my hands. It was as though I had the camera in my hands before I saw God . I could not have had a camera in my hands because if one has a camera in the temple premises the sign there says it will be taken and placed in God’s money box.
As the yellow of the temple wall intensified in the dusk light I saw the ancient tree of hundred gold coins spreading its wares of a thousand flowers in the sky. The firangipani tree rose from behind a pile of stones, stacked for the building construction.All it had was flowers, flowers,with not even a leaf between them. They call it the firangipani flower, the flower brought into the country by the firangis (the erstwhile white rulers -the British, called firangis because they had guns (firangs) with them. The firangis had superior fire power .They had guns while we had just bows and arrows when they came. But we have a better name for the flowers , between us. We call it by a less dangerous name but more poetic. We call it a hundred gold coins. So beautiful to call them a hundred gold coins. Much better than gunmen flowers!
The flowers were smiling behind a pile of stones . The stones looked like a mountain brought there in broken pieces to re-assemble into a tiny mountain. There will of course be no more mountains. There will only be an extension of the temple building. We only hope the firangipani will continue its leafless existence undisturbed.