It was more like
a temple than a dwelling. Siva, as Nataraja the Cosmic Dancer,
the Rhythm of the Universe, danced before me, flinging out his
arms in the passion of creation. Kama, the Indian Eros, bore his
bow strung with honey-sweet black bees that typify the heart's
desire. Krishna the Beloved smiled above the herd-maidens
adoring at his feet. Ganesha the Elephant-Headed, sat in massive
calm, wreathing his wise trunk about him. And many more. But all
these so far as I could see tended to one centre panel larger
than any, representing two life-size figures of a dim beauty. At
first I could scarcely distinguish one from the other in the
upward-reflected light, and then, even as I stood, the moving
moon revealed the two as if floating in vapor. At once I
recognized the subject - I had seen it already in the ruined
temple of Ranipur, though the details differed. Parvati, the
Divine Daughter of the Himalaya, the Emanation of the mighty
mountains, seated upon a throne, listening to a girl who played
on a Pan pipe before her. The goddess sat, her chin leaned upon
her hand, her shoulders slightly inclined in a pose of gentle
sweetness, looking down upon the girl at her feet, absorbed in
the music of the hills and lonely places.
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