A Day of Flat Tires, Kindness, and Divine Shelter.

Vande Mataram!

Namaskar, dear readers!

I stayed up all night writing this. If you’re reading it now, I truly hope you’ll read it through to the end — and don’t forget to check out the photos. I promise it’s worth your time.

Early Morning in Kumbakonam – Temples, Tea, and a Bit of Trouble

My morning began early, walking through the peaceful, temple-lined streets of Kumbakonam. I was looking forward to a full day of spiritual exploration. But just as I was soaking in the calm, my cycle’s rear tyre gave in — a slow leak.

In 180 days of riding, this was only my second puncture — and the first on the rear wheel. I’m usually careful about my tyre pressure and road choices, but sometimes, the road has its own plans.

By the time I got it fixed, the sun was high and unforgiving. I avoided the National Highway and took a quieter State Highway instead. The route reminded me of home — like riding from Baharampur to Jiaganj or Lalgola.

I stopped at a small roadside stall where I spotted something that looked just like our tel er pitha or malpua. Here, it’s called “Appam.” Paired with a cup of tea, it was just the comfort I needed.

Kindness in the Smallest Moments

As I sat enjoying my tea, a man noticed my cycle and offered me another cup. I was midway through typing yesterday’s Facebook update on my phone.

When I went to pay for the tea and appam, the shopkeeper just smiled and said, “No, it’s on us.”

Later that day, I stopped for some sugarcane juice. Once again, the seller refused to charge me.

It hit me — how much I had missed this effortless generosity while I was in Sri Lanka. These small, quiet gestures reminded me that love doesn’t always announce itself — sometimes it just shows up and offers you a drink.

Into Thanjavur – A City of History and Heart

By afternoon, I reached Thanjavur — a city rich with heritage. I had a filling vegetarian meal for just ₹60 — hot, simple, and delicious. That alone was worth the ride.

I wanted to visit the Thanjavur Palace next. But when I arrived, the security guards told me that any loss from my cycle would be my own responsibility. In Sri Lanka, I could leave my belongings anywhere and walk freely. This warning made me uneasy, so I gave the palace a miss.

Instead, I cycled toward one of Tamil Nadu’s most celebrated landmarks.

Brihadeeswarar Temple – A Living Wonder

Words can’t quite capture the scale of this place. Built in the 11th century by Raja Raja Chola I, this massive temple dedicated to Lord Shiva is a UNESCO World Heritage Site — and for good reason.

The entrance greets you with a huge stone Nandi, the second-largest in India. The main tower stands about 66 meters tall, and inside are rows of detailed sculptures, ancient inscriptions, and 108 Shiva lingams.

As I stepped into the sanctum, I felt an instant shift — calm, cool, and otherworldly. The main Shiva Lingam is 12 feet tall. A priest shared something incredible — the entire temple is built so the sunlight moves through the structure, falling on the lingam at different times of day. And perhaps most fascinating of all: the temple’s shadow is said to never touch the ground.

The entire complex covers nearly 10 acres — a true masterpiece of architecture and devotion.

But Where Would I Sleep Tonight?

As the day drew to a close, the old question returned — where would I stay?

I emailed the local Rotary Club President. In 2022, Rotary Clubs across India would often coordinate and host me from city to city. That warmth felt distant now.

I visited the local MLA’s office, but the representative hadn’t arrived yet. I waited and returned at 7:30 PM — only to be told the MLA would now come at 9 PM. I asked if there was any place I could stay. They suggested I check the local stadium.

At the stadium, someone quietly advised: “Try Ramakrishna Math.”

A Room, A Meal, A Moment of Peace

I cycled straight to the Ramakrishna Math, unsure if I was too late. The Maharaj wasn’t in when I arrived, but soon returned. I introduced myself and shared my journey — and my purpose.

He listened with quiet grace. Then he nodded and said, “You can stay here tonight. Freshen up. We’ll have dinner at 8:30.”

The meal was humble: rice, dal, aloo curry, vegetables, and a bit of pickle. But after the uncertainty of the day, it was one of the most satisfying dinners I’ve had in a long time.

Later that evening, I sat with three monks and three Bengali devotees. We spoke for hours. They handed me a spiritual book to read aloud and listened with genuine warmth. They were touched by my journey, and I was moved by their kindness.

The Road Ahead and a Quiet Realisation

Tomorrow morning, I’ll have breakfast at the Math and head toward my next destination.

As I lie here tonight with a full belly and a full heart, I can’t help but smile at the way each day unfolds. No matter how uncertain the evenings seem, something always works out — as if the road itself is whispering:

“Jojo, even your own bed back home couldn’t offer you this kind of peace.”

If this story moved you, please share it.

Someone out there might just need a reminder that the world is still full of kindness — and that strangers can become family, even if only for a day.