“I am not interested in King Krishnadeva Raya,” said Rajesh. “Who cares how he lived and what he did five centuries ago?”
“Then why did you come on this trip?” asked his friend Naresh. “We are here to appreciate the glory of the past. Hampi is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.”
“What’s so fascinating about these carvings and pieces of pottery anyway?” said Rajesh. “The only things worthwhile here are the swords and shields.”
The boys were on a school excursion to Hampi and, after two days of exploring the sites, were viewing exhibits from excavations, at the local museum. Rajesh enjoyed seeing the remains of old temples and palaces, but could not share Naresh’s delight in the less-striking remnants of a bygone era, housed in glass cases.
“I hope to be an archaeologist some day,” said Naresh excitedly, darting off to join their teacher in the next room.
Lingering behind his classmates, Rajesh’s attention was drawn to a model of Hampi, with miniature versions of the Queen’s Bath, Lotus Mahal, Hazara Rama Temple and the Elephant Stables, all carefully crafted. Rajesh was quick to identify them.
Momentary lapse
Later, Rajesh could never explain what came over him at that moment but, in an instant, he had grabbed the most distinctive feature of the Vittala Temple complex. The replica of the famous Stone Chariot had come unstuck from its base, and made its way easily into Rajesh’s hand. Immediately, there was a jangling noise and guards rushed into the hall.
“Oh, here’s the problem!” exclaimed one of them. Rajesh held his breath, but the man walked past him and closed the partly open door of a coin cabinet. Rajesh heaved a sigh of relief. He was safe. All he had to do was get his souvenir back to Bengaluru and put it away with his collection of toy cars and planes. After all, he thought, it wasn’t as if he had helped himself to anything valuable; the small Stone Chariot was only made of paste. Why then did he feel gloomy rather than gleeful?
“Stealing is stealing,” said a tiny voice inside Rajesh.
“I must put it back,” Rajesh told himself. He regretted what he had done, and the Stone Chariot weighed so heavily in his pocket that it might have been the original sculpture itself! To make matters worse, Rajesh could hear approaching footsteps. The others in his group were looking for him. He thrust his hand into his pocket, pulled out the little object and hastily replaced it.
The alarm sounded again and, this time, the museum curator himself dashed in. To Rajesh’s amazement, the coin-cabinet door slowly swung ajar. Was it Rajesh’s imagination or did King Krishnadeva Raya, looking down from his portrait on the wall, have a twinkle in his eye?