An Empty Canvas
Have never painted. Atleast not since the mandatory paintings of zoo, holi and diwali scenes in school.
Had never known the itch that an empty canvas must give an artist, brush poised to mark the white canvas forever with a thought which germinates like a seed in the recesses of his mind and then flows through his fingers to reveal itself.
I know it now.
Travelling for three straight nights in the semi barren lands of Rajasthan with the stars keeping me company, bright, awake, waiting for me to give vent to my feelings and thoughts and the odd palm tree swaying as if with the silent music of my soul, I knew the agony of not being able to communicate the multitude of feelings that submerged me.
I stared at my blank piece of paper almost in a trance willing myself to put my thoughts into some coherent pattern that would enable me to capture the delicate thoughts and dreams so that I may relive them forever. Easier said than done, I fumbled with my pen, chewed on it for inspiration, wished I could sketch instead and say in strokes what I wasn't being able to express in words.
Alternatively wished there was a kindred soul who would feel the same way I did and in whose mind's eye these would be captured for eternity and I would have to but look at him and know that its not lost. It lives on in our shared memories.
That too was not to be.
So I sat down and wrote the more mundane impressions I formed about the various sights and sounds I came across. In so doing tried to capture in some small measure the essence of my experience in its entirety.
Putting down here some of them, glance through and see if behind my ordinary words you can find glimpses of an extraordinary experience.
The Udaipur Family - relations of a friend, welcomed us with open arms, gave us use of their home, fed us and behaved as if by being in their home we were doing them an honour instead of them accomodating some unknown, unannounced travellers - had read on tourism sites 'Atithi dev bhavo' saw the concept demonstrated straight from the heart. Royal hearts indeed.
The City Palace - beautiful in parts but too crowded and almost pretentious for my taste. Some amazing weapons on display though. The not to be forgotten part was the first glimpse of the Lake Palace through a small grilled window, pristine white, fairyland like beckoning from the middle of the shimmering Picchola lake. Made a promise to come back and stay there even if it be for a day. Expectations!!
The Fateh sagar Lake - a chance meeting with another friend of a friend who was delighted to take us around brought us to this lake. Apparently till six months back the lake was so dry that children played football and cricket in the lake bed. Three days of sudden rain had resuscitated the lake and it brimmed with life and laughter.
Caught the sun set over the adjoining hills, beautiful, peaceful, too soon over like all good things.
On to Jodhpur
A dusty, hot, city with cockroach autos plying everywhere and nowhere. A to-be-seen-to-be-believed fort and a me-too Palace lavish yet soulless.
The Mehrangarh Fort - Ardhnareshwar rendered in architecture. Ardhnareshwar - the personification of the understanding of two-fold personality within. 'He' - The Lord Shiva - the Creator of the Universe and 'She' - The Shakti - the sustaining Energy.
Rugged, strong, tall, fierce manly exteriors. Hiding a curvaceous, sensual, almost dainty interior. An amazing sangam.
The Umaid Bhawan - suffice to say that I came away with one thought in mind, the Mughals made love to India and the English raped her.
Large, ornate, created to awe and in mimickry possibly flatter the masters (The English) with no character of it's own.
Not a patch on the fort.
The itineary I have taken you through the experience perhaps just been able to hint at.
Did I for a moment tempt you to discover my beautiful land on your own? If it be so I will be happy that even the empty canvas has been able to communicate.
Have never painted. Atleast not since the mandatory paintings of zoo, holi and diwali scenes in school.
Had never known the itch that an empty canvas must give an artist, brush poised to mark the white canvas forever with a thought which germinates like a seed in the recesses of his mind and then flows through his fingers to reveal itself.
I know it now.
Travelling for three straight nights in the semi barren lands of Rajasthan with the stars keeping me company, bright, awake, waiting for me to give vent to my feelings and thoughts and the odd palm tree swaying as if with the silent music of my soul, I knew the agony of not being able to communicate the multitude of feelings that submerged me.
I stared at my blank piece of paper almost in a trance willing myself to put my thoughts into some coherent pattern that would enable me to capture the delicate thoughts and dreams so that I may relive them forever. Easier said than done, I fumbled with my pen, chewed on it for inspiration, wished I could sketch instead and say in strokes what I wasn't being able to express in words.
Alternatively wished there was a kindred soul who would feel the same way I did and in whose mind's eye these would be captured for eternity and I would have to but look at him and know that its not lost. It lives on in our shared memories.
That too was not to be.
So I sat down and wrote the more mundane impressions I formed about the various sights and sounds I came across. In so doing tried to capture in some small measure the essence of my experience in its entirety.
Putting down here some of them, glance through and see if behind my ordinary words you can find glimpses of an extraordinary experience.
The Udaipur Family - relations of a friend, welcomed us with open arms, gave us use of their home, fed us and behaved as if by being in their home we were doing them an honour instead of them accomodating some unknown, unannounced travellers - had read on tourism sites 'Atithi dev bhavo' saw the concept demonstrated straight from the heart. Royal hearts indeed.
The City Palace - beautiful in parts but too crowded and almost pretentious for my taste. Some amazing weapons on display though. The not to be forgotten part was the first glimpse of the Lake Palace through a small grilled window, pristine white, fairyland like beckoning from the middle of the shimmering Picchola lake. Made a promise to come back and stay there even if it be for a day. Expectations!!
The Fateh sagar Lake - a chance meeting with another friend of a friend who was delighted to take us around brought us to this lake. Apparently till six months back the lake was so dry that children played football and cricket in the lake bed. Three days of sudden rain had resuscitated the lake and it brimmed with life and laughter.
Caught the sun set over the adjoining hills, beautiful, peaceful, too soon over like all good things.
On to Jodhpur
A dusty, hot, city with cockroach autos plying everywhere and nowhere. A to-be-seen-to-be-believed fort and a me-too Palace lavish yet soulless.
The Mehrangarh Fort - Ardhnareshwar rendered in architecture. Ardhnareshwar - the personification of the understanding of two-fold personality within. 'He' - The Lord Shiva - the Creator of the Universe and 'She' - The Shakti - the sustaining Energy.
Rugged, strong, tall, fierce manly exteriors. Hiding a curvaceous, sensual, almost dainty interior. An amazing sangam.
The Umaid Bhawan - suffice to say that I came away with one thought in mind, the Mughals made love to India and the English raped her.
Large, ornate, created to awe and in mimickry possibly flatter the masters (The English) with no character of it's own.
Not a patch on the fort.
The itineary I have taken you through the experience perhaps just been able to hint at.
Did I for a moment tempt you to discover my beautiful land on your own? If it be so I will be happy that even the empty canvas has been able to communicate.
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