Oh! That sinking feeling, ephemeral sorrow of that living creature caught in the lure of temptation, tormented by the thought of warm vapors gently brushing against the body on a cold rainy day met its oily doom. Seeking an unholy union with oil rich pot of unpleasant odor, the poor creature going against its own judgment sealed its fate. Perhaps it had the same honor to protect as the Japanese WWII pilots. The Kamikaze fly flew right into my oily paneer butter masala yelling faintly “Why are you eating this crap?”
Mahendra, son of Ashoka is said to have visited his mother in Vidisa who took him up to the beautiful monastery of Vedisagiri built by herself. The above lines found in the Chronicles of Srilanka remain the only testament to the connection between the Maurya’s and Sanchi.
The foundation of the great religious establishment at Sanchi can be attributed to Ashoka (273 – 236 BC). Selection of the hill top to build the stupa might be to give a concrete shape to the newly aroused zeal for Buddhism in the emperor, who is said to have opened up seven out of eight original stupas erected over the body-relics of Buddha and to have distributed the relics among innumerable stupas built by himself all over his empire.
Preservation efforts for this World Heritage Site started in the 19th century. Most of the monuments had to rebuilt with scattered remains. I found the site to be clean and well maintained.
I decided to write this post to elaborate on cultural and philosophical aspects of erotic sculptures found at Khajuraho. Reading about the origins of artistic expressions of erotica in India, made me want to write this little post about the origin and consequences.
Sexual Scenes In Kandariya Mahadeva Temple
Khajuraho. I was there at last. As an acute sense of elation filled me, I momentarily forgot the horrendous journey that I had to take from Jabalpur to get here. The heavy rains only added to pitiful road conditions resulting in a tiresome six-hour drive. My situation worsened on deciding to stay in the first guest house I could find. The room rents were slightly on the higher side considering it’s an off season. With no energy to hunt around for accommodation, I settled on what I have. Rain continued to lash out its fury on the sacred village as I tucked myself in for a quick nap.
Khajuraho - Western Group Of Temples
Driving 35kms from Dhar is Mandu, the intellectual center of medieval India. Situated at an altitude of 633mts, the city overlooks the plateau of Malwa to the north and Valley of Narmada River to the south. These factor which act as natural defenses convinced Raja Bhoj of Paramara Dynasty to set up a fortress retreat in the 10th century A.D. The roads leading to Mandu showcases the MP government’s effort to preserve the road built in 10th A.D (Pun intended). The medieval roads were not suited for my 21st century vehicle and in no time my car broke her silence, to protest in the form of damaged silencer.
No road trip is complete without the ‘stumble-upon’ experience. I had mine when I entered Orchha. Situated on Khajuraho – Gwalior Highway this little town has some of the best Indo – Islamic architectures to date. From the lush vegetation to rugged forts, this quaint town is a paradise for travelers who love exploring.
The man wearing a Gandhi cap peered into the small window of my car to answer a question I had asked a few seconds ago in my amateurish incoherent Kannada. “Saar, pattadakal dhaari Ghota?” (Sir, do you know the route to pattadakal?). After staring blankly for a second, he replied in Hindi “Aap raste peeche chod diya ” (You have already crossed the route). After a few moments of highly detailed route discussion with him waving his hands to aid my understanding, I bid farewell to the kind stranger. Driving through bumpy narrow roads was not the first time for me, but driving through slush on both sides of roads was. The small village of Pattadakal greeted me with an eerie silence. The first sign of life came in the form of boy who popped out of nowhere to sell photographs of the village. The person at the ticket counter demanded Rs.100 from us, which we knew was the fare for foreigners. Now, this situation leaves two conclusions: either we were badly dressed that we were assumed to be ‘phirangis’ or maybe spotting visitors on a historical site on the day of the world cup cricket finals raised eyebrows. Whatever the reason, we had the whole site for us to explore in silence.