Seen from the yard of the Gandheshwar temple, Mahanadi lived up to its name. The river was wide, so wide that the other bank was a thin line in the distance. The westering sun hung large and yellow over the sandbanks and cast its reflection on the few narrow channels of water that clung to the otherwise dry riverbed. It was a Sunday, and the residents of Sirpur had come out in droves to visit the temple, shop in the bazaar outside, or just hang out by the river. The Sirpur Dance and Music festival was on, drawing throngs of visitors from Raipur, Chhattisgarhs capital about a hundred kilometres away. Only an hours drive, and yet Sirpur, fringed by the Mahanadi to the west and the hills and thick sal forests of the Eastern Ghats to the east and north, could well have been many centuries away, frozen in time, still swaying to an ancient tune.






