God's Code

Mahabalipran prophecy

Five Asian countries suffer their worst disaster in 40 years, with more than 3,000 deaths.

According to the latest report from the Associated Press, Indonesia was struck by its strongest earthquake in nearly 40 years on December 26. The powerful tsunami triggered by the earthquake swept across five Asian countries, causing at least 3,000 deaths, including 1,500 in Sri Lanka, 1,000 in India, 400 in Indonesia, 120 in Thailand, and 15 in Malaysia. Hundreds more are missing, and the death toll may rise.

China Daily website, December 26, 2004

An ancient city discovered underwater in India after tsunami.

The South Asian tsunami brought disaster, but also some unexpected discoveries—the ruins of an ancient underwater city.

The ancient underwater city of Mahabalipuram, located on the Indian coast, was one of the areas affected by the tsunami. After the tsunami, three stone structures near the town were exposed, each carved with intricate animal images. This was because the sand covering the structures was washed away after the tsunami. Satyamuti, a senior archaeologist at the Archaeological Institute of India, said these structures likely belong to this port city, which was built in the 7th century.

This ancient city, Mahabalipuram, has long been renowned for its ancient, intricately carved coastal temples. These ruins are a UNESCO World Heritage Site, attracting thousands of Hindu pilgrims and tourists annually. Early British travelogues also mention seven towers in the area, six of which are now submerged.

"After the tsunami, a bas-relief was exposed, seemingly part of the outer wall of a temple, or perhaps part of that ancient port city," Satyamuti told the Associated Press in a telephone interview from Madras. "Our excavation work will uncover more mysteries."

China News Service, February 19, 2005

In each entry, I begin with the news story. As a reporter for the Shanghai Morning Star, I've come across the events hidden behind these news stories. These stories are like vines; following them, I've touched upon the enormous and astonishing fruit hidden deep underground. So, I'll start with these news stories that everyone can find online, and, with some reservation, tell you stories you could never imagine.

There are two vines this time.

Today, no one living in the civilized world can be unaware of the first vine, and even a hundred years from now, many will likely remember this catastrophe. The second vine, however, is much weaker; it grew in the immense shadow of the former, a byproduct of this catastrophe, and perhaps not many will care about it.

I saw the ruins emerging from the sea on S. I've always paid attention to these kinds of archaeological discoveries with their ancient and mysterious aura, so I read the whole news article very carefully.

That's all. For a journalist, most news articles are skimmed over or just read the headline.

So of course I couldn't have imagined that this ruin would soon turn into a small vine, but what I touched along it wasn't fruit, but a key.

This key made me realize the first vine, and yes, it was more than just a calamity!

As I write these words, I already know everything. But I don't know what words to use to describe... the fruit of this truth—is it enormous, vast, or boundless?

I can only try to express this through comparison. Compared to this, the raging sea that swept across the human world is nothing, and to put it bluntly, insignificant.

negligible!

I'm willing to start from the beginning, and I hope you'll have some patience. Even the fiercest hurricane, at its very edge, can only slightly ruffle your clothes.

On the evening of December 26, 2004, I only learned about the tsunami that had shocked the world when I opened the news on D. Some time had already passed since the tsunami struck. It was a Sunday, and I hadn't gone to the newspaper office, so I found out late.

The data I saw then was the same as the first news item I listed above: over three thousand deaths. That was enough to make me stare at the screen for over ten seconds. In recent years, earthquakes, hurricanes, and floods in the generally civilized world are considered major disasters if the death toll reaches three digits, but this time it was three thousand. Two months later, that number rose to three hundred thousand.

This disaster, which made humanity realize its own insignificance once again, gave me a free overseas trip in the spring of 2005.

To revive the domestic tourism economy, which was severely impacted by the tsunami, the Indian government organized a ten-day trip to India for journalists from major Chinese newspapers, hoping they would write more articles to promote the recovery of the tourism industry. The trip offered several routes with limited options. This limited selection meant that some routes wouldn't be overcrowded with journalists while others would be deserted; the aim was to promote domestic tourism while maintaining a balance.

The travel reporter couldn't cover the area for that long, so he reluctantly handed the opportunity over to the newspaper. The leadership decided to send a reporter from the newspaper's busiest department, the mobile communications department, as a reward through the Indian government. As for the piece of writing to be submitted upon his return, it would be a sycophantic piece—something any reporter could do.

This coveted job ultimately fell to me. Although I wanted to say it was because I was the most hardworking and meritorious member of the Mobile Department and deserved the most respect, it was actually just because I was lucky and drew the slip of paper that said "Indian".

Unlike regular tours, this trip offers over a dozen routes, each visiting only one or two scenic spots. The Indian tourism authorities want us journalists to write in-depth and thorough reports about the places we visit, rather than just giving a superficial overview.

I chose Mahabalipuram. Actually, many places in India are very attractive to me, having never been there before, but the ruins that appeared in the receding sea a few days ago made the final decision for me.

I know that the words "mysterious" and "puzzle" used to describe the ruins in those reports were just to make the news more interesting, but my incurable fascination with the mysterious means that even this little bit of provocation is enough for me.

On February 23, I and a group of journalists boarded a flight at Shanghai Pudong International Airport to New Delhi, the capital of India. In New Delhi, we would transfer according to our respective chosen travel routes. My companion was Wang Qiang, a travel editor in her thirties from the Yangtze Evening Post. She was a colleague I had never met before and was not very enthusiastic. She was basically asleep on the plane.

After transferring in Madras from New Delhi, our Indian escort at the Madras airport was named Nikola. This slightly overweight, dark-skinned man spoke fluent but not standard English. Since my English is neither fluent nor standard, communication was quite difficult. Incidentally, Wang Qiang's English seemed even worse than mine, so I, the next worst, had to embarrass myself.

We will spend a day in the port city of Madras, and then drive to Mahabalipuram the following evening. Nikolai asked us why we chose Mahabalipuram. Wang Qiang's reason was that she had seen beautiful photos taken by a friend, while I told her about the ruins that were originally buried deep in the sea.

My reasoning surprised Nikolai. He hesitated for a moment, then reminded me that there were some rumors circulating among the local people about the ruins, and he hoped we would ignore them.

Of course I knew the meaning of "individual" in such an official context, so I asked Nikolai for details.

“The newly exposed inscriptions on the stone have led to misinterpretations by the public. Some people believe that the person who carved these words more than a thousand years ago predicted the upcoming tsunami, thus generating unnecessary emotions, which is utterly absurd,” Nikolai said.

My eyebrows twitched. Was it a prophecy? Nikolai didn't elaborate, perhaps unwilling or not fully aware of the details himself. I didn't know how much of it was true; it sounded absurd, but if it were just a rumor, it had even alarmed the government.

Before learning the actual situation, I didn't think too deeply about it. I only had a strong expectation for Mahabalipuram, so much so that when I was sightseeing in Madras, I was oblivious to the beautiful harbor and my enthusiasm for taking pictures was far less than that of Wang Zhaojun. Madras certainly experienced a tsunami, but the facilities in this port city are much more robust than those in ordinary tourist attractions; at least I didn't see any traces of the tsunami.

The next day, after a cheap seafood feast at a seaside restaurant in Madras, Nicola drove us to Mahabalipuram in a Ford. Wang Qiang was still complaining that we should have stayed in Madras for another day, but I, who was pretending to doze off in the back seat, was actually impatient to get there.

Our hotel is called Quality Inn Mgm Beach Resort, which is roughly a four-star hotel. Nicola will give us a tour of Mahabalipuram early the next morning, introducing us to the local tourism industry. He might also give me a press release, and then his job will be done. If we don't have any special needs, we can spend our eight-day holiday quietly in this small town.

Wang Qiang didn't want to go clubbing with me; she wanted to go to bed early to conserve her energy for tomorrow. The charm of a city can't be appreciated just by looking at the scenery, and of course, I wouldn't say that to Wang Qiang, whom I'd just met. I noted down the hotel's name and address, grabbed a backpack, and headed out.

Mahabalipuram isn't very big. For travelers like us, the only places worth visiting in the evening are the few bar streets and surrounding neighborhoods not far from the hotel, where there are many interesting little shops.

Although tourist facilities in Mahabalipuram have reopened, there are still very few tourists. Otherwise, the Indian government wouldn't have invited us here. The bars, which should be bustling with activity during peak season, are now quite deserted, mostly f

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