My trip to Matrimandir, Auroville

Right off the bat, does it sound awfully like the “My trip to the zoo” essay you wrote in 3^rd grade (I honestly have no idea what grade that was, excuse me for growing up 😜 ) ?  To answer the question, it is a bit like that but it is also a grown up version of that. So, here it goes:

I reached the parking lot of Auroville where the guard was quite taken aback when I informed him that we had reserved a spot online. Rolling in to the lot, I see almost all the shady (I mean trees and shade, not crackheads) spots taken. I do a round, and another until I find one with reasonable tree cover. Why, you ask? It was hot out there, scorching hot.

The real deal

It has been over a couple hours since the sun set after beating down on the city’s hapless inhabitants, giving way to a cool breeze. A mélange of shops line the left side of the road, with neon lights and the hustle and bustle of an evening market. There is a brisk flow of hungry people walking into a brightly lit restaurant with an equal amount of people strolling out, their tummies full and hearts content. Just beyond the restaurant's parking space is a makeshift table covered with a blue tarpaulin sheet, on top of which sit a heap of jasmine buds and a sole short strand of flowers that have been deftly tied together with a wafer-thin string. Sitting behind the bench is a tired old lady with a crease on her brow, patiently looking at all the bikes whooshing by and the pedestrians zigzagging through the thoroughfare.

Look to the other side of the street and there is a bank that is winding down for the day; the staff pulling down the grey shutters, mentally getting ready to go back to their homes and families.