His beady little brown eyes gazed at me and I felt nervous enough to look away. I glanced back at him and noticed that his eyes moved down to my hands and then to my back. All the while, the look on his leathery freckled face was more curious than threatening. Eventually, he tired of me because I didn't seem to be carrying anything he considered food. With a quick flick of his enviably long tail, the monkey climbed up the red sandstone rock face to commune with other fellow little troublemakers sitting further up.

When we drove into the parking lot below the cave temples of Badami, it was obvious that a thousand years after the Chalukyas of Badami ceded control of their capital city, monkeys were ruling it. Badami is a little town of a few thousand souls, situated in the northwestern part of Karnataka. It is reasonably well served by train and Karnataka state transport buses. My parents and I had always wanted to visit the ruins of the Vijayanagar kingdom located in Hampi. So, we took the train to Hospet from Bangalore and made it our base as we traveled to Hampi (a very close 12 kms), Badami (126 kms), Aihole and Pattadakal. Both Aihole and Pattadakal are very close to Badami. Between the last three towns (villages, truth be told), one can see how the art of temple building evolved in South India.

Badami (also called Vatapi) is famous for being the seat of the early Chalukya kingdom from the 7th century to the 9th centuries, then being ruled by the Pallavas and Rastrakutas, falling back into the hands of the western Chalukyas till the 12 century, and then finally being taken over by the Hoysalas. Apparently, every important South Indian dynasty had their finger in the Badami pie. Nowadays, tourists visit by the busload to see the little town situated in a ravine in between beautiful red sandstone cliffs. The most popular sight seeing spots are the four cave temples, carved, one above the other, into the sandstone cliffs overlooking Badami town. Scattered all over this little town are a number of other picturesque temples (Bhutanatha temple complex, Mallikarjuna temple). Some of them are situated on top of little hills popular with rock climbers. Most of these temples are small and topped by a short but well executed gopuram. Centrally situated in the ravine is the man made Agastyatirtha tank dating back to the fifth century AD.

We were constrained by time and decided to visit just the cave temples. The tickets were very nominal in price but we paid extra for our two cameras. As we prepared to climb up the first cave, the security guards warned us to leave behind anything that could be misconstrued as food because the monkeys inhabiting the area were accomplished and aggressive thieves. Caves 1 through 3 are Hindu and dedicated to Shiva and Vishnu while cave 4 is a Jain temple. The first three caves have beautifully carved figures of Vishnu, lingas, Ganesha, apsaras, pygmies and other typical Hindu religious sculptures. The fourth cave is full of carvings of Mahavira and the Jain tirthankaras.

It was a beautiful day in January and the temperature was relatively mild. We climbed up slowly because my mother suffers from arthritis in one leg. There are at least 100 steps to reach the fourth and final cave. Ancient Indians must have been taller and in better shape than we modern day Indians. The steps were pretty high, each step at least more than a foot in height. There was a separate staircase leading up to the top of the hill where the ramparts of a fort are located. This staircase had steps that were two feet in height. Thankfully, tourists are not allowed to climb these taller steps.

We were able to hire a guide who explained the main features of each cave temple. The red sandstone rock faces gleamed in the midmorning sunlight as we paused to admire the rich sculpture. The long tailed monkeys provided us comic relief as they fought amongst each other like mini-samurai, threatened visiting school children (and other more grown up visitors) with being mugged, stole sandals and screeched out mating calls to other such. In short, behaving -- how shall we say it? -- monkey-like? As we gained in height, we felt an amazing peace settling on us. There was a kind of stillness in the air that enhanced every sound to crystal clear clarity. At the very top, when we reached the fourth cave, the sounds of women washing clothes in the Agastyatirtha and the call of the muezzin from a nearby mosque were the only sounds that interrupted the quiet contemplative atmosphere. Every once in a while, a monkey would scratch a rock with some piece of metal it had stolen from someone's pocket and this sound echoed all around.

It was a bit unsettling to imagine that people almost 1200 years ago would have climbed up to this very same spot and seen the very same cliffs, temples and tank and maybe heard the same sounds. Did the people who made all these treasures ever imagine that more than a millennium later, their work would still be appreciated -- not only by fellow Indians but also by other people like the two young Frenchmen (who knew all the 10 avatars of Vishnu) as well as the older Japanese couple (who lay down on the stone benches to enjoy the sun and the peace)? I wondered how many of us would be lucky enough to leave such a legacy for the people who come after us. In another 1200 years, nobody will know or care if I drove a BMW or a jatka. They might remember me if I accomplished something of real value.

I was glad I came here to Badami. Hampi was magnificent but Badami is smaller in scale and easier to wrap your hands around. I found the mix of cultures and religions (Hindu, Jain, Muslim) particularly interesting. They say that the cave temples are a small example of what you can see in Ajanta and Ellora. So, I guess I owe it to myself to go there now. Travel (like learning) ought to never stop.