Self-timer!

On the afternoon of our second day in Hampi, Steph and I decided to seek out a quiet place to practice the meditations we had learned at the Ashram in Gokarna. We stopped in a particularly peaceful temple, built along the river’s edge, took up our meditative positions and closed our eyes. The place was too relaxing to leave, but finally some time later, we picked ourselves up and began to head back, suddenly aware that we did not have the time on us and the last ferry across the river to our guesthouse would be leaving soon.

Gorgeous Hampi

On our way back we passed a young boy, no older than ten, selling flutes. When he spotted us he played a quick tune, similar to that of Pan’s in the old Hercules cartoon, and after a few bars asked if we would like to buy one of his flutes. We respectfully declined, but did ask if he knew the time to which he responded:

“No time” and then, seeing the disappointment on our faces and our eagerness to rush off, he corrected himself and said it was 4pm (We would find out soon after that it was actually 5pm). With great relief we slowed our pace certain we had plenty of time to make the 5:30 ferry.

The boy asked our names and told us his was Raja. Then he followed the script to a T and asked us which country we were from. This “establishment of a relationship” is usually followed by a second attempt at a sale, however Raja took a different route, tapped his cheek with a finger and said “kiss?” with a mischievous smile.

Raja!

“No.” we said, unable to hide our amusement. He began to walk off, defeated, in a different direction, but then stopped, turned and said with as much sincerity as he could muster, “but, I love you.”

We laughed and said “thank you”, not wanting to be rude to the young Casanova. He continued to walk in a different direction, down towards the river, resuming the happy tune of his flute. He was almost completely out of sight when the tune stopped and in the silence of our serene surroundings his voice echoed against the boulders and temples:

“I LOVE YOU TWO” or maybe it was “I LOVE YOU TOO”. Either way, really.

Maybe it was his undeniable charm, or the fact that, ironically, he was the only flute seller in Hampi who had not subjected us to “My Heart Will Go On”, but it took quite the effort for us not to yell back, “we love you too Raja.”