A stretch of bitumen extends into the horizon. A faded red concrete railing, built to deter people from falling over into the waters, stands in contrast against the undulating white and blue of the Palk Strait. The near two and a half kilometer rail line glints below as we drive past towards the main town of Rameswaram on Pamban Island (also known as Rameswaram Island), which also lends its name to the bridge.

The main gopuram of the Ramanathaswamy Temple can be seen from quite a distance and welcomes devotees like a light house guides ships to the harbour. Since the temple is still closed we decide to use the time we have to visit Dhanushkodi at the southern tip of the island. The wind swept landscape is inundated by white pristine sand as far as the eye can see.

The snaking road which frequently gets submerged by the ever shifting sand is barely wide enough for two cars. We finally reach the parking area which stands next to the Indian Navy forward observation post. An officer peers keenly through his binoculars into the distant waters - the confluence of the rough Indian Ocean and the calm Bay of Bengal. His free hand cuts an arc into the south-eastern horizon, “As the crow flies, Sri Lanka is less than thirty kilometers in that direction”, he points. “On a clear night, I have seen lights twinkling on Mannar Island”, he adds.

We retrace our route to the main temple of Rameswaram, dedicated to Shiva. The temple is now open and we are greeted by devotees in wet clothes clinging to their bodies as they emerge from the various holy bathing wells within the temple premises. The labyrinthine corridors lead like a maze past ornately carved yalis - the mythical lions that form the protective pillars.

All sense of perspective is lost facing the ‘Corridor of One Thousand Pillars’. The lights adorning the corridor, the longest in the world, do a sprightly dance on the exquisitely painted roof as multi-hued circles and other geometric patterns form psychedelic images.

By the time we complete the tour of the temple and come out it is night and the Pamban Bridge is deserted. Trawlers twinkle in the distance as strong winds scream ghoul-like about our heads. A train is slowly chugging towards the main land below us. I shift down into a lower gear and drive in tandem with the train. After a while only the red warning light from the last bogey blinks at us as the waves lap lightly on the shore.