Here I was, on top of the Anganeya Hill.. the place of birth of Lord Hanuman himself. My mother and I were the only devotees who were present. And we found the priest gazing out at the vast landscape around him; perhaps in anticipation of some divine revelation..It took me a moment to realise that the blue painted walls were in fact part of a stone cave adjascent to the Anjaneya temple. The Baba has been sitting there, chanting lessons from Ramayana for years now. He welcomed us as though we were his family, and gestured towards the carpet on the floor to sit and meditate with him. Is it possible to be in the Kingdom of Kishkinda and not find its subjects lurking on top of trees around you?? They were everywhere.. playful and sometimes notorious. They would very readily snatch any plastic bag that you might have with you. But couldnt care less about my ugly black camera :) We had to climb 580 steps to reach on top of the hill. We met this little boy on the way. While I was struggling with whatever broken Hindi i know, he cut me short in perfectly framed English sentences and told me that I should not leave without having breakfast at the temple. We did take breaks in between and found some enormous boulders and 'secret' caves on the way. Their lives seem to be uncomplicated.. simple. The low hum of their prayers resonating against the stone walls of the cave.. The priest lived inside the temple. Completely at home with the poster gods and an almost broken down radio for company. We could have stayed on there for hours together gazing at the hills, listening to the low rumble of the clouds of the above. But our auto driver was waiting at the foot of the hill and we were soon rattling off to our next destination.