India Phase 3

The passion of the Hindu was never more apparent than in Varanasi, the Holy City on the Ganges River. The dead or dying came for cremation and ashes dumped into the river just upstream from the pilgrims spiritually bathing in the Holy water. The gnats leading to the river were commercial centers for flowers and food as offerings. The open-air barber shaved heads as a unit of grief for the suffering. Firewood to feed the pyres came from miles around. We hired a boat for a better view of the activity.
Silk saris were a major item that caused most taxis to detour tourists into silk galleries for the sake of a sponsored commission. Silver and gold craftsmen had an exquisite trade for ornamental piercing. We joked about chimed ankle bracelets to track their ladies. Sacred cows seemed more prevalent here and the narrower the street the slippery the walk. Not a good place for flip-flops. Such deposits were fair trade to be scooped up by the hands of the untouchables and splattered for drying on a building wall. When dried, it would burn as a fuel for heat or cooking stove.
Our flight to Agra was entertaining when weather conditions did not allow for a scheduled interim stop on the itinerary of a Japanese tour group. The leader ranted and raved up and down the aisle to no avail. We arrived at dusk and the ebb of a full moon. The taxi driver said the Taj Mahal grounds were closed but he would pass by an area of access. We climbed an embankment and approached the fence. Someone shouted in the background but clouds were about to expose the full moon on the Taj. The ratchet of a carbine got our attention as the guard came swiftly towards us. No one was above reproach so a few rupees made him happy to show us to a better vantage point.
For such a special place, we returned early in the morning to enter the legitimate grounds. Breathtaking, awesome, and all you can imagine this was a premier destination. Because of the disputed Kashmir region, the carpet business came to us and shopping struck our fancy. It was more intense at our next destination of Jaipur.
Agra to Jaipur was a short distance so going by rail made sense in spite of the last derailment. A train in the state of Rajasthan seemed to put you in touch with Rudyard Kipling and The Man who would be King. This arid region was the invasion route of Genghis Khan, Persian, and others invaders. The Amber Palace had displays of weaponry from an imagination afar of our concept. A scissor/sword reeked of sadistic creativity and would have left little intact of the victims' innards. The marvel of Asia is that it takes you beyond our precept given in Western civilization. We stayed at the Palace Hotel with a life-size chessboard in the garden where you could envision the ancient Maharaja playing with lives. Peacocks frolicked and screamed in the evening and at dawn, bazaar but in place here. Camels, burros, and elephants were new modes of getting around.
Because of the cloudy day, our flight to Delhi was canceled. As a matter of routine, the airline commissioned a fleet of taxis for the near 200-kilometer road to Delhi. We had little hope of getting there with this suicide taxi driver. The roadside was filled with tragic vehicle crash remnants. We counted on Hare to seek help from the many Hindu gods to get us to Delhi. Transportation tested our resolve throughout this journey. Our Air India landing at Heathrow was severe and the 747 blew a few tires. Comfort and contentment are not the measures of good experience and a great adventure.