ADAPTING TO CHANGE

It's much easier to calibrate upwards and enjoy the refinement of Western goods and much more difficult to do the opposite and get used to the lack of quality in a third world culture.  Butterfly tin openers are unavailable, but a pretty kurta in purple with hand embroidery and bits of bling, is very easy to find.  It's interesting to see how the down turn in the economy effects everything so quickly.  The response to economic woe, is like watching the water go out of a lock and the subsequent descent of the boat to a lower level.

Shopping malls are empty, as are the shops - bulk buying of cheap goods, piled high on the shop floor, instantly lowers the tone of the shop.  Bacon, which was readily available 4 months ago, is no longer to be found, but instead plenty of cheap chicken and cheese sausages.  The emphasis is more on staple food, rather than luxury items, which might not sell quickly.

As I alighted from the tuk tuk, he came running up to me, a broad smile on his face,  The last time I'd seen him, he was employed as my friend's trusted driver and majordomo, ferrying her and members of her family, hither and thither in the large air conditioned 4 x 4 with darkened windows.

"How is the madam?" I asked....."no, no, I resigned" he said "that young son of their's made me let him drive the car, even though he was under age and I got into trouble - I couldn't take that stress - he was too much to handle".  My face fell, wondering how he was managing.

"I've bought a rickshaw for 50 000 rupees and this is my business now" !!   

AUGUST

After 4 months away, arriving in Mumbai between Monsoon showers, was like stepping into a warm, damp, wooly, sock.  Everywhere there is interaction between people and indifference and isolation have no place.  Five people will collaborate to get the job done, in a collective responsibility.  The individualism under which one operates in the West, has no place in India's group thinking.

Moonsoon showers have left large puddles of stagnant water along the roads and the lack of pavements makes walking difficult. Two dogs, alert and aggressive, threaten a monkey perched on a gate post - it bares its teeth and I wonder how it will escape from its predicament.  The noise of the street takes getting used to again and it's necessary to recalibrate time, as arrangements are shifted and appointments become random acts of fate.  People smile, laugh and stare and every move is discussed and debated - the scrutiny and curiosity never cease.

The apartment which was smart 2 years ago, is showing signs of wear and tear.  Water has seeped through the kitchen ceiling in places, the paint is bubbling and peeling and mould creates abstract patterns on the walls.  The bungalow next door has been painted bright pink, all three floors - it looks like a large gaudy blancmange.   They are fitting a new pipe in the upstairs flat and the sound of banging and drilling mesh with the humidity - a background to the exhaustion and alienation of a long flight and the feeling of dislocation, being separated from one culture and not yet part of another.   

KACHHI GHODI

He was 'clip-clopping' down the highway, near Jambughoda - on his way to a wedding at a nearby village.  He was dressed up for the kachhi ghodi dance which he would perform with others, to entertain the bridegroom and his supporters with tales of male prowess and bravado.   The dance involves a high spirited re-enactment of mock battles with the brandishing of swords,  to the beat of drums,  as the narrator tells the story of bandits and their audacious exploits !   The first challenge, it seemed, was to walk the many miles, in costume, to the venue !

THE LOTUS TEMPLE

It reminded me a little of the Sydney Opera House - an extraordinary structure just outside Delhi.  Traveling by taxi along crowded streets and beeping traffic, when you finally arrive, it comes as a surprise, looking rather like a spacecraft, set in a huge open terraced field.  It's one of the most visited tourist attractions in India.

The removal of shoes is obligatory, after which there is a long approach on a concrete path to the circular, domed, temple, with its 27 free standing marble clad petals, arranged in clusters of 3.   Entry is by one of the 9 entrances, one on each of its sides and the 9 pools, capture reflections and aspects of the temple.

It was designed by an Iranian architect in 1986, Fariborz Sahba, whose plan was in accordance with the  requirements of the Bahai faith, which originated in Iran.  It is non-denominational, in keeping with the concept that God is omnipresent and omniscient, to everyone, no matter what your faith and people are encouraged to say their own prayers, in their own language.

The sense of space inside is enhanced by the lack of pillars under the huge dome - it can accommodate 2500 people.   Although the structure is concrete, it's clad in white marble from the Pentali mountain in Greece.  In accordance with the Bahai faith, there are no adornments, no paintings and no sculptures.  Sermons and music are not allowed.  Nothing interferes with the pervading sense of peace.

The Bahai Faith, emanated from Iran in the 19th century and under the leadership of the Founder's son, Abdul Baha, became recognised by the rest of the world.  Although they were an aristocratic family, they were persecuted for their beliefs and were exiled, landing up eventually in Acre in Palestine, where they were imprisoned under harsh conditions.  But after his release, early in the 20th century, Abdul Baha traveled to the United States in 1912 (turning down the opportunity to travel on the ill fated Titanic and opting for a slower boat).  He gave numerous talks and lectures promoting world peace and also traveled to the U.K. and Europe, before returning to Palestine.

THE SUN AND THE MOON

THE UMBRELLA

The umbrella, synonymous with royalty in India, seen in many paintings and miniature illustrations of royal processions, still carries this special significance.   

Arriving at the imposing gates of a prestigious 7* hotel in Rajasthan, we were taken by golf cart, the hundred meters or so, to the forecourt of the hotel, where we were greeted by the liveried, doorman, who held a large, red and tasseled umbrella over our heads and escorted us to the entrance.   The umbrella, was an important part of the ritualised welcome !

However, it's an object not commonly used on the streets, despite the intolerable heat and the torrential downpours of rain.  When the first monsoon rains appear, people opt to enjoy being wet
 - a novelty after  months of searing heat and dusty dryness.

With this in mind, the drawing of the 'Reclining woman with Umbrella' at the Delhi Art Show, made me wonder about the purpose of the umbrella, apart from its decorative repetition of curves.  The drawing reminded me of Picasso's classical style, early in the 20th century  !

COVERAGE

Local glossy, society and gossip magazines often feature the Royal Families of various states wearing their best regalia - posed against a backdrop of the family palace, or seated formally on gilded chairs, in a luxurious setting.  The women are beautifully dressed in saris, bedecked with jewels, while the men stand behind them, also dressed in traditional clothing, looking gravely out at the viewer.  One wonders about their privileged life which continues to ensure their status in society.

An artist at a recent Art Show, took the concept of the group portrait and gave it an interesting twist. Choosing an old photograph, yellowed with time, showing a family group gathered for a formal portrait, probably commemorating a special occasion, he blocked out the faces, robbing them of their identity - with this removed, they became as anonymous as dummies !

In his explanation of the work, the artist, put forward the idea that the sheer quantity of personal photographs on public networking sites, separated from background and iconography, often simply recording the individual at a particular time of day, robs them of relevance.  The images cease to have meaning - exposure to public viewing removes any significance, which they might have had, they become as insignificant, as the old photograph !