Visit India, the land of spices. We gave the world the Numerals, Algebra and Zero - the worth of a politicians word, too. A review is too short a place to cover zillions of visit-worthy places in this so called ’subcontinent of contrasts’.
Dude shall cover a few, that he considers Hot. My tributes to the untrodden roads that only a vagabond dares to Walk.
Taj Mahal - an Ode to Love
When an obsessive wife asked - ’Will you build a Taj Mahal to me?’, the harassed husband replied - ’I will, if you care to die’.
Jokes apart, it’s a real beautiful monument. A mausoleum of love built by an emperor in memory of his departed Begum. Of course he lies besides her. That’s the misfortune of marriage, to follow unto the grave!
Built of pure white marble and standing over the sluggish rippling waters of a lazy lake. It’s full beauty can only be appreciated in the reflections of a full moon. Nothing like it if you could view it from the presidential suite of Hotel Mughal Sheraton, and your father the Emir of Kuwait.
It’s wonderful to think how it would be to spend a wonderful moon-lit night in the gardens. The warm embrace of love the Dude’s sole companion. If only beggars & lathi-wielding cops would allow to afford, such a romantic luxury, in an overcrowded and expensive historic place.
Such are the vagaries of popularity. In the material world, Dude, even love carries a price.
Khajuraho - Spiritual Ecstacy
In these temples of exotic architecture, the pioneers of Kama Sutra heartily welcome you. A standing testimony to our past rich sexual heritage. When we boast of our hoary achievements - our contribution of world’s very first sex manual (KS) - seldom finds any real mention!
Every statuette here is a living and (almost) breathing demonstration of the Sutra, from the first posture unto the very climax. It covers, or rather uncovers, it all. Has anyone wondered why those sculptors spent years to carve those poses on to stone and why would any king finance such an amorous enterprise? Why the figurine of a lady admiring her body, dressed in nothing but a Harappan version of the G-String, guard the sanctum sanctorum of the holy? Spirituality with voyeuristic pleasure?
While marvelling at the wonderful gopurams of Hindu temples, I always did wonder, why those mithuna positions on top of God’s very house! A question that still rings in my mind, while I sheepishly peek at naked masterpieces of Lionardo Da Vinci and other masters, across churches and museums in continental Europe. Man during ancient civilizations always looked at ’human beauty’ as God’s greatest gift to mankind. It’s reflected in the Biblical passage - God created man in His own image. Marvelling at God’s miraculous creation was admiring an act of God. It was a time when reproduction was the original miracle.
As with everything good, centuries of colonial rule and persistent slavish Victorian morality has played the spoilt-sport in candid admission of this valuable inheritance. Even if we coyly avoid such a embarrassing mention, our ever increasing population stands living witness, to a rigid commitment to continuum of tradition.
Goa - the golden beaches
If you feel too hot after being exposed to such raw spiritual experiences, cool yourself down the sandy beaches of Vascodagama. Don’t let those names starting with Santa fool you into thinking of meeting any saints here.
It’s a real manna to eat fish, drink feni (a local brand of cashew liquor) under a tree, and ogle at the skinnydipping caucasians. Add to it a puff of weed and you’ll just fly to heaven and may be even meet God in shorts. I was kidding about ’smoking the pot’ part. Drugs can seriously injure your health. But that’s what lots of hippies do here, besides lying like Adam & Eve sans fig leaves.
There are of course beautiful churches and even more beautiful Goan dames, both fair and dark, wearing colorful inviting mini-skirts. Beer is also cheap here compared to other states. Drinking too much beer can lead to frequent trips to the rest room. They are of course hard to find here like everywhere in India. Even Google Earth will not help you find any loo here. May be the government keeps the nukes stockpiled there!
Anyways.. don’t be pissed on not finding one. A desperate dude can always relieve himself below a palm tree. It’s clean, it’s green. It’s also called ’recycling the minerals’. Just be careful in not stepping into earlier environmental contributions.
Kerala - God’s own backwaters
I can write tomes on this beautiful land of cogonuts, feesh curry and boeeled rice; please forgive my speelings! A tsunami of memories hit me while thinking about God’s own coconut grove. And the enchanting smell of food, well cooked in coconut oil - High on calories, salivating on taste buds.
Hire a boathouse down the backwaters . Leave your back to the care of of a masseur and his herbs. Watch the moon frolicking in the waves. Dream about Mallu girls with hairs tied into serpentine twins, oiled to perfection like slippery eels. Think of God and have a shot of Rum.
Bangalore - Babes, Beer, Brigade Road and Bovines
There are plenty of pubs in India’s Silicon City, mostly on Brigade... they should name it Babe...Road. But they close early so that totally sloshed kids can go home early without killing each other in accidents. I am not kidding. The total volume of beer consumed here equals the water supplied by BWSSB on a generous day. But who cares, as long as you can jive a move or two with a babe before sun goes down. After that there’s always the Brigade Road.
Babes here are traditional, but only until dark. Always open to a beer or two, a little something to appetize at Coffee Day and a long ride to nowhere. Mayhaps, if you happen to be lucky, a session of intimacy near the reeking Ulsoor Lake or the lush Cubbon Park. However beware of dogs and cops. Ignore the sniggering eyes of aunties and the lusty eyes of uncles, wandering freely, all over your date.
When I wrote ’Bovines’, I didn’t mean the type you meet on the roads; though I admit you’ll meet them a plenty! Bangalore boasts the 4th largest Bull in India housed in a temple named... you guessed it right...Bull Temple near Basavanagudi. A nostalgic remembrance of the bygone days when life meant a paddy field and the conveyances produced household fuel; instead of consuming gallons of it.
It’s also a romantic hangout. God is love, Love is God.
There’s more spice to write. But you had your fill and the ink’s almost dry
Hallelujah! Have a rollicking day you-all