Page 92 of Tiger's Voyage
“It’s … pretty. It suits you.”
“Thank you.”
“I—” he hesitated and shifted in his seat.
“What is it?” I prodded gently.
“I’m happy for you. You seem … content.”
“Oh. I guess I am.”
Despite the happiness I felt in being with Kishan, I realized there was a leak somewhere in my heart, a hole that wouldn’t close over. It seeped a bitter disappointment that trickled into my limbs, and being near Ren like this was like drizzling lemon juice into the hole. It stung.
I nodded noncommittally and let my eyes drift to the water. Holding out my hand, I let it splash against my fingers. I felt Ren watching me still. Something tangible sparked between us but only for an instant. A tug that was there one second and gone the next.
The sun had gone down by the time we reached shore. The brothers leapt out of the boat, dragged the prow onto the sand, and using a long rope, tied it to a sturdy tree limb.
I studied the temple as we walked toward it. It was cone-shaped but had two structures instead of one. Mr. Kadam fell back to walk with me as Kishan and Ren strode boldly forward. They both carried weapons, just in case—Kishan thechakram, and Ren his new trident.
“Mr. Kadam, why does this temple have two buildings?”
“Each one is a shrine. This particular temple has three, but you can’t see the third from here. It’s nestled between the other two. The taller one is roughly five stories.”
“Who is worshipped here?”
“Shiva mostly, but historically, others would have been worshipped here as well. The Shore Temple is the last of the seven still above water.” He pointed to the wall. “Do you see those large statues there?”
“The cows?”
“Actually, they’re bulls. They represent Nandi, the servant of Shiva.”
“I thought Nandi took the form of a shark.”
“He did, but he is also known for taking the form of a bull. Come over this way. There’s something I want to show you.”
We walked across the stone porch and approached a statue that looked like a large tiger with a doll clinging to his paw.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s Durga with her tiger.”
“Why is Durga so small?”
He leaned forward and traced the carving with his finger. “I’m not sure. Just the design, I suppose. Do you see this cavity in the tiger’s chest?”
I nodded.
“It was probably used as a shrine as well.”
“Should we make an offering here?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s explore the temple first and see what else we can find.”
We entered the temple through an arched vault. Mr. Kadam told me it was called agopuram, an ornate temple entrance designed to awe and impress. Its function was similar to the Japanese spirit gates. People entering the temple would feel they were stepping away from worldly things to enter a place considered sacred.
We caught up with Ren and Kishan and walked into the dark temple together. Its inky gloom was made even denser by the overhanging eaves blocking the moonlight. Kishan turned on his flashlight so we could navigate.
“This way,” Mr. Kadam said. “The inner sanctum would rest directly under the central dome.” We explored the smaller of the two structures first and found nothing out of the ordinary. Mr. Kadam pointed to an uncarved rock set in the middle of the room. “This is themurti—the idol, or icon, of the shrine.”
