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India sketchbook
Delhi, Bangalore, Madras & other excursions
December, 1993
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Ferozshah Kotla Mosque
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We arrived in Delhi shell-shocked from what had turned into a twelve hour marathon
flight from Moskow on an Aeroflot plane (the stopover in Tajikistan, where the runway
had to be cleared of snow by men working with six foot brooms, had taken longer than
expected). New Delhi was a mass of confusion, utterly alienating to jet-lagged
travellers fresh in the country. But the next morning we took an auto-rickshaw out to
the ruins of the Ferozshah Kotla Mosque, and we found a different pace, and began to
enjoy ourselves. The site is now a quiet park, and there were children playing cricket
on the fields, and families having lunch. As I sat and did this watercolor, children
clustered around me and offered advice, and their fathers came to talk to my friend Matt,
and to argue about the international cricket scene.
As I drew, a man in a long white robe and a gray and white mane of hair that stood out
from his face came to stand in the white doorway that appears to the right in my watercolor.
He began to sing, long mysterious notes that rose up over the arguments of the cricket
aficionados. I wanted very much to put him into the sketch, but he sang his piece and
went away before I could begin.
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Qutb Minar Pavillion
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There is a marvellous minaret at Qutb Minar, and a mysterious iron post. If you stand
with your back to the post and can clasp your own hands around it (behind your back,
around the post), good luck comes to you. I was just barely too short-armed to be able
to do it. The whole complex is rich with delicate carvings, and this pavillion, purpose
unknown, stood off a little to one side. In Bangalore we would meet a friend of Matt's
who studied seismic activity by traveling around India dating temples and estimating the
dates at which they had been overturned by earthquake activity--judging by this fragile
pavillion, Delhi must not have suffered major earth tremors in at least five centuries.
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Moti Masjid -- The Pearl Mosque
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Located in the Red Fort in Delhi, this Mosque dates from the time of Shah Jehan (or Jahan,
depending on your history source), the builder of the Taj Mahal. The building's white
marble does indeed seem to glow like a pearl (although it is the building's architectural
perfection, and not the stone it is made of, that is supposed to have earned it its
epithet), and inside the marble pavingstones are richly enlaid with semi-precious stones.
The faded splendor of the Red Fort teems with tourists and crowds of local people. There
is a long fortress wall behind the major buildings. Looking down over this wall, one sees
a fantastic carpet of activity--when we were there, there were fire-eaters and dancers
and crowded stalls selling bright cloth. Shah Jehan called the splendors of the Mogul's
complex in the Red Fort "paradise on earth." Looking at the cracked lily pools and the
earthwork ruins of the gardens and the imperial baths, one senses a little of the
overweaning glory of what it must have been, in the days of the Peacock Throne.
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Bull Temple, Bangalore
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A thirty hour train ride south of Delhi brought us to Bangalore, well known for its
university and hilly environs. The Indian cities that we visited tended to be quite
spread out, a fact that can be poorly reflected in tourist maps, so we did more walking
in Bangalore then we had planned. Though it is hard to regret this in retrospect, at the
time it was quite frustrating. Our venture to see this "Nandi" bull (so called because a
great black bull was Shiva's mount) started with a long, frustrating walk and an argument
with an auto-rickshaw driver. Then we got to the temple, and met the very kind priest,
and saw this great lurking sculpture, hewn from a single piece of black stone, decorated
with strings of marigolds and other flowers, and the pain of the walk faded.
The priest supervised my putting the triple-fork of Shiva on the bull's head--it was a
rather gaudy, ornate piece, and it violated my purist aesthetic about this wonderful
piece of sculpture. I was going to leave it out of the drawing. "Put it in," he told
me. "It's not right without it in." Grumblingly, I sketched it in.
Later I felt I had been a fool for having grumbled.
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Hazara Rama Temple
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The Vijyanagara ruins near Hampi are one of three World Heritage sites in southern India.
They comprise a fantastic series of temple complexes that lead down to a turgid, yellow
river, and a palace complex (complete with the world's largest surviving elephant stables)
that can be reached by crossing a big banana plantation. The bus to the site dumps its
passengers out in the remains of a fifteenth century street, the "old" bazaar, with
stone buildings that lead up the sides of a gorge. These buildings have been occupied
and built into by the local people, who were some of the nicest and most friendly people
we met during our entire trip. Lunch is served on clean banana leaves, and there are few
cars or motors, outside of the periodic arrival of the buses.
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Coconut seller, Hampi bazaar
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A watercolor done after the fact off-site from a snapshot. Despite this, I think my
picture catches something of the wonderful mood of the place.
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Terracota Horse, V.G.O. Golden Beach, Madras
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Lest I appear to have taken my trip too seriously, I end here with a sketch of what was
"in the flesh" a garishly painted grinning monstrousity that my eye happened to fall on
as I jumped down from a bus. I was mobbed by school-children in clean blue and white
uniforms (the girls with jasmine flowers braided into their hair) as I did this one;
they wanted me to make the horse laugh more and they were disappointed when I didn't have
colors to make it look brighter--I finished it and was pulled away to have a look at the
nearby toy train, with its flashing mini-bulb decorations and glowingly-painted trim.
Well worth seeing.
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