Rickshaw Madness

Short Version:
Rickshaws, queues, touchy-feely security guards. Oh, and a really impressive modern temple.

Long Version:
Sometimes the tiniest, most cheerful, cheapest-price-quoting rickshawman is also the most determined, and the fastest, and the best-tipped. Our miniature smiler responded with gusto to our exhortations for more speed, despite the pair of us weighing about as much as the luggage-laden family of six that occupied one of the other rickshaws that we passed en route from the Metro to the Akshardam temple complex.

Akshardam, like Jama Masjid, was recommended to us as a must-visit. We really should have listened to the bit about going first thing in the morning, though, because by the time we arrived in the early afternoon there was a MASSIVE queue for the pre-entrance cloakroom where every imminent entrant had to divest themselves of all electronics, on pain of ejection and (probably) a beating and some burning in hell for eternity. And then there was an even MORE MASSIVE queue, controlled by a series of person-held rope barriers which led us through a gate, eventually, and on to...

Another queue! This one led to a security search that included an inordinate amount of genital manipulation.

An hour or so after arriving, we finally made it in to the complex proper, where we wandered through the ten gates that symbolize things, and through some buildings with info about the complex's construction, and on to god's footprints which were, as Nene said, "...much smaller than I expected."

The main building was awesome. HUGE, and completely covered in intricate carvings that took over 300-million man-hours to execute. There were people, and animals, and gods and goddesses (many of whom had sizable upstanding breasts. Maybe that's why so many men were staring at Nene's chest). There were also elephants galore; all the way around the outside of the lower tier was a carved frieze depicting elephant-human relations through the ages. There was a lion v elephant fight. There was a goat standing on an elephant. There was a hare which had fallen over, and a rabbit with an erection, and an elephant with seven trunks and four tusks named Airavata.

There was a queue at the Boot House. We'd had enough lining up for one day, so left our (now rather ratty-looking) sandals next to a wall atop a roll of astroturf and set off up the wide stairway of white marble and into the main building, which was just as awesome on the inside as it was on the out. Intricately-carved walls and especially ceilings were intense, and impressive.

Back outside, we meandered away from the main building and along a series of covered walkways towards a large open area. Suddenly, gates slammed shut just behind us loudly and emphatically. There were no other people in the section of walkway we were in. It was like we'd walked right into some supervillain's trap. Having no choice, we walked onwards. More gates closed in our wake. We reached the open area - a large, step-sided pool area, with terraced stone seating for thousands. More gates closed, herding us to our left. Uniformed persons lurked in the shadows. Any minute now, we thought, some chap with his undies outside his pants is going to leap out and cackle maniacally at us.

Somehow, though, we found ourselves back at the main concourse, near god's wee feets marks. We eventually deduced that the area we were in was the location of the regular evening lights-and-fountain show that we'd not bought tickets for, and that the crew were most likely clearing the space prior to allowing the paying punters in.

Dusk was closing in as we made our way across a bridge over a lotus-shaped garden and into the foodcourt area, where we bought and ate delicious foods before viewing a statuary and some bats on our way out of the complex. Electronic goods retrieved, we found a rickshaw, and then found OUR rickshaw, which meant, of course, that we had to have a rickshaw race. Once again, the wee grinner somehow managed to get enough force out of his foot-long legs and broad toothy smile to mash the competition, despite having a hefty Puppet passenger, and there was a significant lag before the normal-sized rickshawman and Nene pulled up. Tiny rickshawman was very proud, and rightly so.