I visited Srirangam a few days back. The temple is among my favorites
in southern India. The deity of this temple is lord Vishnu. As we
entered the sanctum sanctorum of the temple, I along with other
visitors and devotees could see the roof of the main building which is
cast in gold. The deity is housed inside this main building. One of
the many ways to worship is to offer our prayers to this roof cast in
gold. The devotees from below were praying with their hands raised
towards the golden roof/gopuram. I did the same and that was when I
saw him. I am not sure of its gender but for convenience I call it
'him' here.

He was a bird standing atop on this golden roof. He seemed unperturbed
by the numerous people who were rushing in and ushered out by the
priests. I presume we looked like a stream constituted of black
botches surrounded with our multi-colored clothes running on stone
floors. The stone floors on the other hand had an uneven coating of
soil mixed with water; the result of the half hearted attempt during
the early hours of the day to wash the former. But again coming to the
bird, he appeared restless. The human's tendency to color every
situation with one's own perspective made me pick my brush and palette
at this juncture. This bird standing atop the golden roof was looking
for food. In absolute terms the ground he was standing on was rarer
than what he would ultimately find (if at all). And then it filled me,
not 'struck' but rather seeped into my mind: No matter what we have,
we still have our issues, on the ground floor we look atop to satiate
our needs and wants. Atop a golden roof he looked down to satiate his.
So it is. Although this is a simple metaphor/analogy (?), he rang
something deep inside me. A need to live a part of our counterpart’s
moments, say whilst a conversing or while listening. Not to judge, not
only empathize but try to share their moment. This appears very
interesting to me, as it will allow me to live a little more than
'life'.

The challenge lies in trying to align my opinion close to 'as is' or
the reality. This can be attained only by practice and it would simply
be an art to do it without the other's knowledge about the intention.
In this case I succeeded in the art section (if not, that would be
weird) but I am very doubtful if the challenge was met even within a
thousand miles.

To this day, I am sure that the golden roof exists and the botches
sift around it, shifting the dirt cakes on the floor. All I wonder is
what happened to him with an assurance that he cares two hoots about
me or the others in return. And it will be so until we have something
for him to swoop down from the roof - cast with gold and drought.