Ari's Planet

In the morning, on my search for a hotel room, I saw a dog and a cow who were friends. Both were warming up in the sun. Cows basically stand around in the sun for the first few hours in the morning to warm up. The dog rubbed heads with the cow, then sat down next to it. Both cast long shadows on the white wall behind them. I crossed the river and looked for Hotel Minerwa, which also had been recommended to me. They were full, but the receptionist led me to Royal Hotel, around the corner, which had a room with bathrrom and filled with windows for 200 INR. Leaving the hotel late that day, I saw loudspeakers on a roof just below my room--I knew the morning call to prayer would not be missed. While waiting for my room to be cleaned I saw a woman washing and dressing a small boy. The woman wore blue clothes with orange decorations, the boy was dressed in an orange shirt and blue jeans. The walls of her home were painted a pale blue. The bars of the railing of the rooftop framed the picture. The child was quite uninterested in having his hair combed--at first the woman had the friendly demeanor adopted with children, then she got firmer. They were playing at getting dressed. Then they went threw a door and emerged one flight below, walking past large pots stood against a wall. Blue within blue.

I walked down to the water, thinking to make my way to the City Palace museum. On the way, I walked past the bathing ghats: one for men, another for women. The sun was warm. The air was pleasant. Men were bathing and sitting and smoking and washing cloths and chatting. I stopped, a man with a splendid white beard and moustache said hello, we chatted, I sat down in the sun. He and his friends were smoking some grass ("flowers"). He, call him L, said he is a taxi driver. He told me how he was injured in a bad accident 20 years ago and still has aches, the sun is good for his bones. V, his friend, is an artist. He draws Hindu devotional miniatures inspired by sacred texts and stories. He said he's a brahmin and that he comes to the water every morning to smoke and bathe so that he is in the right frame of mind to work on his art. He said he was self-taught and he spends all day, months, to finish one drawing, working in pen and watercolor. L offered me some chai and V took his bath while extolling the virtues of his loin cloth.

We walked over to V's workshop, a short walk from my hotel. We sat on some blankets in a small room. V showed me the artwork he had been doing for the last few years. He does small and medium sized drawings of Hindu gods and related mythological stories. He unwrapped his carefully stored work and explained his drawings, giving me a bit of knowledge of the Hindu tales. Many images of Krishna and Vishnu. How Krishna vanquished the wicked in the Ramayana. The many things Krishna has done. The Bindu elephant made of women. Baby Krishna being saved from death in prison. It was very interesting.

After a bit we went to their friend's workshop to make bhang lhassi. Bhang lhassis are made from freshly ground marijuana, black pepper, soaked cashew nuts, sugar, and water. V spent a good amount of time thoroughly grinding the marijuana flowers into a fine paste. He used a palm-sized black stone rubbed against a flat stone. I took photographs while grinding, getting barked at by a dog who wasn't too keen to see my feet sticking out her master's room. We shared chai brought by his daughter while waiting for the bhang lhassis. V then ground cashews into the marijuana paste. The mixed paste was placed over a red cheescloth and water was poured, with the cloth removing the larger particles. Sugar and pepper were added at some point. The mixture was then poured back and forth between shiny metal container, then each of the three men drank a cup. The drink was poured directly into the mouth, without touching the container. I declined their offer, so V had my share, but I did taste a bit--it had a sweet spicy taste from the pepper and sugar. They finished this off with a few puffs from a joint. Afterwards, they were going back down to the opposite bank of the river to sit in the setting sun. What a life.

I bought some Indian milk-sweets for my new friend from the bus ride from Chitorgarh, then joined him and his son for dinner at their home. His wife and daughter were away for a wedding and he had come to Udaipur from his farm to look after his son. He has a kind, calm, and even disposition. His son's favorite sport was not cricket, but actually marksmanship and horse riding--something I hadn't expected. We talked about world politics and he appologized for the quality of the food, as his wife was not there to cook a proper meal. I honestly told him there was nothing lacking in the meal: it was delicious. I can only imagine what delicacies his wife could prepare.