The Highway


The line separating faith from superstition is thin, to the extent of being ineffective! Speeding down the Jodhpur-Jaisalmer highway, towards the Temra temple, this is the one thought that keeps resonating across the consciousness. The rationality of thought acquired through modern education forever trying to dismiss faith as mere superstition & values fed by religion persistently trying to justify seeming superstitions as faith. The highway meanwhile, keeps you occupied. The vast expanse of the desert seems all encompassing, with the wind whistling past you fiercely. The emptiness of the landscape on both sides of the road stretches endlessly towards the horizon, punctuated only by small hamlets bodied of tiny straw huts scattered unevenly. And as the jeep you are driving tears through this imposing view, you can almost smell the rubber on the wheels burning against hot asphalt. The sun, meanwhile, continues to shine relentlessly, painting beautiful mirages on the road ahead; tempting you to stop by and soak in much-needed coolness.




A small dhaba appears on the left of the road with the words “Coca-Cola” screaming from a large red board, suddenly pulling you back into material existence, proof that globalization is a reality that is here to stay. It is time to pull over for a small break; tea, pakoras and a quick smoke, if you would. Vapours from the tea-kettle liquefy the space around them, blurring your vision. A couple of rabbits pop out of nowhere, flop their ears, and vanish as immediately as they had appeared, lighting up the dead landscape with this sparkling cameo. The dhabawallah meanwhile informs that the temple is just a few kilometers ahead. And the journey resumes with the din of the diesel engine and the smell of burning rubber keeping you company. 30 minutes and 25 kilometers later, something appears on the landscape, leaving you gaping with your eyes wide open- 17 tall windmills dotting the barren stretch of land that accommodates the small rock atop which the small temple sits. The jeep is pulled over to the side of the road, as you try to absorb this imposing dialogue between nature and technology. Moving towards the temple, you are not exactly delighted to discover that a total of 173 steps lie between you and the structure atop the rock that houses faith. 173 steps later, you finally get to enter the temple. The temple, it is informed, houses the clan deity of the Charans and Rajputs of Jaisalmer. The blood on the floor bears testimony to the numerous animal sacrifices that have taken place there. Faith or superstition? The view from the top, meanwhile, is enticing; the windmills stand tall, silhouetting the ever expanding desert that stretches lazily beyond the scope of your vision.


Mahim Singh