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In the mountains. The mist lifts. Spirits soar. The car purrs

In the mountains. The mist lifts. Spirits soar. The car purrs

Date: 2025-11-03

Telegraph poles flash past in my head like drums; one two, buckle my shoe; tik tok sang the mynah bird trespassing on my thoughts. A rhythmic embrace, a flutter of the heart; one buzzard, two griffons, a crow swoops. An eagle soaring way beyond my dreams.

I sign the register, greetings of namaste, vanakam. Shoes off, feet in the soil. Where temples rise, people follow, anywhere, every generation, time immemorial.

The Drakensberg. On a slingy, turvy road to the top, there is a sign. Turn. A group of ladies just ahead. I follow them like a kid, skipping goat-like in the shimmer of their saris. I thought I could surreptitiously follow their lead to the Gods. They were going to the loo. But after a wee moment they were out again and the dance could go on. Belief in relief.

The sign said no shoes inside the circle. I wasn't sure which circle, whether to go clockwise or anti-clockwise, no-one really seemed to mind. It doesn't matter which way you go, just be who you are... there's no set pattern, the milk, the fruit, the circle will hold. Shiva doesn't differentiate.

I find the ground beneath my feet in this world of nature, whilst noticing the vultures circling overhead, acting as guards to Shiva. Hanuman stood. Still. Hanuman chalisa, ganesha, I start to get into the rhythm. Through all my travails, I realise this soaring feeling has never left me, this beauty, this belief in kindness, a need for community of spirituality.

As I walked gently away, the universal prayer of peace singing in my head, I thought of the women who had journeyed for over four hours to pray at the feet of Shiva. Now they were sharing some sandwiches. So many decades they had spent together. Still, they talked and supported each other with a child-like reverence.

There is so much in the world to tear us part. Atomise. Individualise. But in this moment, on the sharp edge of the mountain, these elderly women, their limbs frail, had the most enduring of connective tissues, friendship.