I was climbing the steps that would have led me to a shrine on top of a hill in this town. I didnt know what I was going to see. I was just curious why there was a shrine there.
After a hundred meters or so, the steps ended and I had to cling onto a rope to carry on climbing. Loose gravels made it precariously impossible for me to go further up.
The climb was getting steeper and the rope had also been discontinued. My pace was slow but as the oxygen got thinner and my breathing became more frequent, my throat started to dry up. Only then I realised how stupid I was to have left the my water bottle behind.
The scorching heat made things worse. I glinted in the sun to check how much further I had to go uphill. I asked myself whether to press on or to give up.
My bodys cry for water became my turning point. Justifying my failure to get to the top, I consoled myself by saying, Its just a shrine anyway!
Turning my back to the shrine,I was surprised how beautiful the view was. Blue water and limestone rocks appeared before me. A gentle breeze blew my exhaustion away and I forgot how thirsty I was. Luckily, I had my camera with me. It was among the first generation of the Sony digital cameras with 3.2 megapixel and AA batteries. (That explains why the photo doesnt give justice to the real beauty of the place.)
Reaching the foot of the hill, I asked my friends if they knew anything about the shrine on top of the hill. They said that there was a footprint of Gautama Buddha there.