Click click click. It was the sound that got to me first. Click click click. Not the smell, not the sight of droppings littering the floor, not the bowls of milk and food placed haphazardly throughout the temple. Click click click. No, it was the click-clacking of thousands of tiny rat fingernails on the hard marble floor that sent shivers down my spine.
We were at the Karni Mata Temple of Deshnoke, 30 kilometers outside of Bikaner, where the thousands of rats that occupy the temple are considered holy. So holy, in fact, that is good luck for a rat to run over your foot in the temple. To me, this falls under the realm of “things we say are good luck to make us feel better because they are actually terrible.” Like rain on your wedding day, or a bird crapping on your head.
|Outside the temple.|
Please note my socks and Dave's bare feet. He is a fool.
|Scurrying across the floor.|
|Oh, did you need a close-up of rats drinking milk? Here you go.|
I challenge you not to shudder.
|Panic (and blurry photos) sets in|
|Much Purell was required before Dave was even allowed to touch his juice glass.|