(no subject)
A brief stay in Sikkim, highlighted by the most beautiful people in this country and then a mad descent down from the eastern side of Indian Himalayas, a back-track race [ie; 40 hours in transit] through Kolkata, Varanasi and Kujarao.
A note on Kujarao; imfamously known as the home of the carved karma sutra (or as I stubbornly still call them - the nudie temples) Kujarao a miserable little hole totally dependant on tourism. Most of the people who inhabit the town live in small, traditional (by 'traditional' I do of course mean 'sqalid') houses (I use the term 'houses' very loosely) and have a habit of doing anything and everything to score a rupee. The caste system is more prevelent here than anywhere else (with the possible exception of Varanasi) that I've been in India.
But, I did manage to get a picture of a millenia old stone carving on the side of a Vishnu temple depicting the image of a man having sex with a horse.
So I guess it all worked out it in the end.
Moving on, the super-fast express train to Amritsar (still took 27 goddamn hours) - arrive, check in - engage in charming conversation with a Scotsman and a lovely Italian girl, a visit to the breath taking golden temple and a trip out to Attari (AKA the Pakistani boarder) made venturing all the way to ass end of Punjab totally worthwhile.
But about the Sikhs; Punjab has the largest Sikh population out of all the Indian states, the Golden Temple is THE Sikh pilgramage. And the Sikhs are great. They carry themselves with immense dignity and have an intensity, almost a glow, in their eyes that verges on hostility. But the Sikhs are anything but, they're unbelievably friendly, always up for a drink and ready with a joke. They're proud, hard working and have a great joie de vivre. This is punctuated nicely a simple question that Sikhs love to ask to tourists; when was the last time you saw a begger wearing a turban? Answer; never. Even in Punjab.
This is perhaps explained in the foundations of the Sikh faith. The Guru who carries the most weight within the faith is known as 'the gentle guru' and unlike most other holy men from anywhere else on the planet - the gentle guru worked hard, raised and loved his family and believed in something like practical spirituality over mysticism.
The Golden Temple is beyond words. It FEELS holy. It's an immulate complex of white marble with a massive courtyard in the center of it. A shallow pool extends from the middle of the couryard surrounding the Golden temple proper. Walking around this sacred place I came to understand how stupid Indira Ghandi was to attack the temple and retain her Sikh body guards.
Oh, and the pakistani boarder was like a hockey game (stadium style seating, popcorn and jeers included). "HIN-DU-STAN! ZIN-DER-BUS!"
A train ride down to Udaipur, over to Jaisalmer and back to Jhodpur made up the Rajastan tour. A stay out in the desert under a perfect canopy of stars, camel racing and relaxing in new cafes in ancient Rajput military forts (that had the uncanny habit of looking beautiful in every light) were just unforgettable.
Now I'm back in Bombay (LOVE this city!), my pops is coming down in roughly a week and things couldn't be better.
There's magic in this dust-filled air.
A note on Kujarao; imfamously known as the home of the carved karma sutra (or as I stubbornly still call them - the nudie temples) Kujarao a miserable little hole totally dependant on tourism. Most of the people who inhabit the town live in small, traditional (by 'traditional' I do of course mean 'sqalid') houses (I use the term 'houses' very loosely) and have a habit of doing anything and everything to score a rupee. The caste system is more prevelent here than anywhere else (with the possible exception of Varanasi) that I've been in India.
But, I did manage to get a picture of a millenia old stone carving on the side of a Vishnu temple depicting the image of a man having sex with a horse.
So I guess it all worked out it in the end.
Moving on, the super-fast express train to Amritsar (still took 27 goddamn hours) - arrive, check in - engage in charming conversation with a Scotsman and a lovely Italian girl, a visit to the breath taking golden temple and a trip out to Attari (AKA the Pakistani boarder) made venturing all the way to ass end of Punjab totally worthwhile.
But about the Sikhs; Punjab has the largest Sikh population out of all the Indian states, the Golden Temple is THE Sikh pilgramage. And the Sikhs are great. They carry themselves with immense dignity and have an intensity, almost a glow, in their eyes that verges on hostility. But the Sikhs are anything but, they're unbelievably friendly, always up for a drink and ready with a joke. They're proud, hard working and have a great joie de vivre. This is punctuated nicely a simple question that Sikhs love to ask to tourists; when was the last time you saw a begger wearing a turban? Answer; never. Even in Punjab.
This is perhaps explained in the foundations of the Sikh faith. The Guru who carries the most weight within the faith is known as 'the gentle guru' and unlike most other holy men from anywhere else on the planet - the gentle guru worked hard, raised and loved his family and believed in something like practical spirituality over mysticism.
The Golden Temple is beyond words. It FEELS holy. It's an immulate complex of white marble with a massive courtyard in the center of it. A shallow pool extends from the middle of the couryard surrounding the Golden temple proper. Walking around this sacred place I came to understand how stupid Indira Ghandi was to attack the temple and retain her Sikh body guards.
Oh, and the pakistani boarder was like a hockey game (stadium style seating, popcorn and jeers included). "HIN-DU-STAN! ZIN-DER-BUS!"
A train ride down to Udaipur, over to Jaisalmer and back to Jhodpur made up the Rajastan tour. A stay out in the desert under a perfect canopy of stars, camel racing and relaxing in new cafes in ancient Rajput military forts (that had the uncanny habit of looking beautiful in every light) were just unforgettable.
Now I'm back in Bombay (LOVE this city!), my pops is coming down in roughly a week and things couldn't be better.
There's magic in this dust-filled air.