khajuraho/ajanta, india, february 3-6

Our "pilgrimage" to holy sites did not end in Allahabad, though our next three days were spent visiting sites that that are not truly active religious sites currently. I have wanted to see the temple sculptures of Khajuraho and the Buddhist cave paintings at Ajanta for many many years, so to see both over these few days was wonderful. Khajuraho especially, lived up to the stories and pictures that I have seen.

Getting to Khajuraho, though, was one of the funniest and most unbelievable experiences of our lives. Nima and I have been debating whether we can do this story justice with our writing. But, even as I write I can't stop chuckling so maybe I will give it a shot. On this shotgun trip throughout the north, we were very dependent on the timeliness of the Indian Railway system. Overall, it had done little to fail us. But on the morning of the 3rd, the delayed train was the beginning of our own "series of unfortunate events". Nima, Vikram, and I were dropped off by taxi at the train station around 7 am after a short night's sleep in Allahabad. The plan was to catch the train to Satna (supposedly about three hours away) where we would be picked up by taxi for the 2-3 hour ride to Khajuraho. We were wait-listed so we arrived a little earlier than usual to sort out the seats. As Nima and I tried to decipher the departure board, it dawned on us that the train was delayed by six hours. So after some debate and discussion we decided to call back the taxi driver and see if we could arrange a car to Khajuraho- a trip we expected to take 6-7 hours. Sounds pretty simple. Somehow, by the time we stood in line to return our train tickets (which never happened) and loaded the small Indica as perfectly as possible, it was 9 am. So we started our travel through town. Nima, being the responsible person he is, called our hotel in Khajuraho to cancel the car pick up an let them know we would be arriving late. Something made him ask about road conditions and travel time. After the unexpected answer of terrible roads and 9-10 hours travel time in a very cramped car, we were thrown into disarray. To make an incredibly long story short we decided to just wait for our afternoon train and spend a relatively relaxed morning in Allahabad.

Okay, so its 1:30pm and we are back at the train station standing on a very crowded, very hot platform being periodically pelted with bird droppings (no kidding). After two and half more hours, relief washed over us as the train arrived on the platform- about eight hours late. We settled in for the three hour ride. Three hours passed. Then three and a half hours. Then four hours. Finally, we were told we would arrive at the station in 10 minutes. So we gathered our bags and stood in the doorway ready to hop out at the station. But instead, we stood and we stood and we stood- for about an hour, mostly waiting for the train to move from its unexpected stop about 2 km from the station - Nima threatened to jump out of the train and walk the rest of the way. Meanwhile, Nima was in constant communication with the guys who were waiting at the Satna station for our arrival - they had been waiting for 13 hours! They were a bit testy.

As we finally stepped off the train, we were greeted by our taxi drivers who whisked us quickly to our car. We should have known by the looks of it that our travel had just started. The rickety old Maruti van had no trunk space because of the compressed natural gas cylinder, so we piled the luggage onto the seats and squeezed in. So we waited to go, but for some reason we weren't going anywhere - because we were boxed in behind like 8 cars in this mess of a parking lot! Twenty minutes later, after Nima and Vikram directed traffic we finally made it out of the parking lot and were on our way. We sputtered along in a car with no shocks and maybe 2 cylinders in the engine; even auto rickshaws seemed to be whizzing past us. Nima stuck his thumb out the window to hitchhike, joking that maybe one of the faster cars could take us on their rooftops. Not a moment later, the car started swerving rather uncontrollably. The driver pulled off to the side and his buddy noticed a flat tire. No problem, they had a spare, so we figured a 15 minute delay. Of course we became worried a moment later when it the darkness of the night we saw the driver rolling the spare tire down the road. Turns out the spare was also flat. He had to roll the tire to some unknown stand about 2-3 km away but an hour later we were back on our way. While we waited we were entertained by ghost stories from the second driver but we will have to share those with you later.

So, back on our way, now at almost 11 pm, we were all yawning and vying for a place to sleep. About 1 hour later, while Nima and Vikram were zonked out, I woke up to the car inching along at a snail's pace. For a few minutes we seemed to be coasting down a hill with the car in neutral. Then it it dawned on me that we were out of gas-- natural gas-- with no stations in site. The driver jumped out of the car, popped open the trunk, took out the canister, shook it around, an put it back in. The car started up again. No problem, that is, until about 5 minutes later when it happened again, and again, and again. Five times he jumped out to eke out the last of the natural gas. It was a wonder we made it the last 10 km at all. By 2 am, we arrived at our small hotel, too exhausted and hungry to pay attention to the 30 mosquitoes hovering over our heads. Luckily we fell asleep laughing, thinking this story was worth the journey.

Okay, back to the temples of Khajuraho. We visited many of the Jain, Buddhist, and Hindu temples over the next two days. The temples were built mostly from the 9th century through the 11th century during the Chandela rule. The sculptures are exquisite representations of the daily life of humans and of the gods. The female form is particularly beautifully represented. Some of the most famous structures are the erotic ones that some say depict the Kama Sutra. But all of the sculptures, most incredibly well preserved, are beautiful. We saw them at sunset and sunrise and leisurely examined many of them close up.

After another train ride and car ride we arrived in Ajanta. The grottoes were carved out of the rock starting around the 2nd century BCE. Paints were made from local mineral rocks, except for the bright blue which was made from Lapiz Lazuli imported from Persia. The paintings mainly depict two eras in Buddhism- the Hinayana period (during which the Buddha was not represented in his human form) and the Mahayana period. Sadly some of the paintings have been destroyed by inclement weather and vandalism over the last 50 years though active preservation efforts have been made more recently.

I should take a moment here to say that we particularly appreciated the company of my cousin Vikram. Besides his sense of humor and overall willingness to go with the flow, Vikram is also an incredible pleasure to be around. He taught us a lot about the Indian Independence Movement. My only complaint is that Nima and Vikram made a lethal combination when it came to taking photographs. Vikram is even more enthusiastic than Nima- and if you can imagine Nima behind a camera lens then you know what I mean. I had to boycott all photography on the last couple of days to reassert some sanity. In the end, though, they are the reason for our wonderful visual memories.

I know that the descriptions of the sites themselves is a bit short but in this case, hopefully the pictures can do them more justice than my words. Regardless, both (especially Khajuraho) are definite must sees if you travel to India.