Omtara , land of the gods .

It was after much discussion and digression, after nearly two years, that we arrived at a consensus, to take up on an invitation, to visit Omtara Kuteera. Expecting to have just fun, flippant to the very end, we arrived, driven in cars that picked us up from home , at timings which were planned with military precision.

On arriving, we found the greenery and fresh air, a welcome change .Walking past and naming each plant, it seemed like a botanical extravaganza. We were then greeted by our gracious hostess, along with her man Friday. Seated outside as we waited for our friends who were yet to arrive, we heard a loud cry from the peacocks that graced the grounds , a cry of alarm or welcome, of which we were not sure.

While we waited, our hostess mentioned that her father in law was the man behind the famous Amar Chitra Katha , the mythological stories we thrived on in our childhood, which was the theme of the resort . The Gopura in the centre, and the painted doors , were fascinating indicators of what lay within, but we had to rein in our curiosity as our hostess had meticulously organised the day for us .

When finally all had arrived we were ushered in with great pomp. There was a small contingent ,waiting with a lamp, for the ceremony of Aarti, the traditional ritual of honouring guests . Filled with excitement we entered, and not disappointed at all, as it was like stepping into wonderland. Glancing around we briefly saw, a treasure trove of heritage, before we were whisked away for a refreshing snack .

After a healthy nourishment, we were led to a grand hall, lined with impressive sculptures from the left to the right, of women so beautiful. Each with a tale, each a goddess, an incarnation, born to destroy evil, born to kill the monsters that plague mankind, and as goddess Tara was the favourite, the resort is named after her, Omtara. Our wonderful hostess and guide, kept an interesting narrative going, a narrative of each avatar, interspersed with anecdotes, that kept us raptly attentive, and we marvelled at her knowledge.

Each story brought to life the stone sculptures , the familiar Amar Chitra Katha of our childhood,. The tales from Ramayan and Mahabharata, of good over evil, it was as if we were stepping into another era, a time when gods walked the earth, a time when women ruled the world . The tour lasted a couple of hours, there were several levels of spectacular artefacts, Tanjore paintings, Mysore paintings, most of them originals, colourful murals and tapestries, the theme always being, the stories from yore .

We were fascinated, speechless even, by the splendour of the collection, of one man’s ambition that took wings, to leave behind a monument, enshrined with his dreams, made real by his progeny, especially by our dear hostess, for posterity . Having finished several levels of this amazing tour, there was an enlightening, light and sound show . The history and culture that we imbibed that day, was far more than we did in our entire life.

We then stopped for a wholesome lunch, prepared and served by an efficient kitchen staff, serving us seconds and thirds, to our heart’s desire. Needless to say that after lunch we rested awhile outside, under the dappled sunlight, on deckchairs placed conveniently. There was a quick tour thereafter, of two more levels, one of them housed games like hopscotch and others from our youth, which we briefly indulged in, much to the strain of our unused muscles.

The weather holding up, as if the rain god Indra wanted us to make the most of it, we were able to then stroll through the grounds, coming up close to a screamer, the dazzling peacock . His feathers ,brilliant in the sun, he stood tall, his head held high, a gorgeous creature, to match his surroundings. Walking back slowly to the main building, we took a chance glance at the sky, noticed the gathering, menacing clouds that soon turned into a downpour .

Running in quickly, we sat down for a hot cup of tea, before taking our leave . There was a parting gift for each of us, the traditional coconut and beetle leaf, brought in ceremoniously . ‘Twas not easy to bid farewell, to the place where for one day we forgot our woes and troubles, where for one day we walked where angels trod, one day when we were transported to the land of a golden age where goodness and grace prevailed. Etched in our mind were sculptures and art, the stories of mythology, that left an indelible mark, and we left making plans to visit again.

Looking back I realise, good and evil are just two sides of the same coin. the conquering of one by the other, is a daily battle we fight, Straddling, we stand with one leg on either side, trying to overcome our base nature but very often losing the battle as we give in to temptations. And with age, with wisdom comes the knowledge, that we are no closer to overpowering evil , but the answer is to stand firm, rooted in our faith, in times of our travails.