Filling their teapots with blessed water

The monks wash their teapots and line up next to the cauldrons, scrapping a little amongst themselves. It feels like just before a race. The filling of the teapots is the start shot; and then they’re off, sprinting with their hot pots towards the teaching site entrance. They spread across the ground like a silent wave, fanning out through the corridors, running with bent upper bodies, careful not to disrupt the ongoing teaching. Again and again the monks have to fetch more tea to fill the thousands of cups.

Towards noon the heat under the tent is only tolerable due to a little breeze coming from the nearby Krishna River all the monks still sit and listen.