Books & Birds—"One Piece"

The five-day Jaipur Literature Festival turned out to be pretty fantastic albeit very busy. I saw almost 20 sessions and wrote about many of them for the festival organizer's press releases. Some of my favorites included the witty Martin Amis and southern gentleman Richard Ford. Listening to travel writers, fiction writers, memoirists, was inspiring. Learning more about Indian literature and culture was enlightening. The event ended with an author's ball at the ancient Amber Fort, which is spectacularly lit up at night underneath a starry sky. There were marigold and rose petals strewn everywhere and music throughout the evening. 

Me and Candace Bushnell at Amber Fort in Jaipur



I had a drink with A. Revathi who ordered brandy then red label whiskey. She spoke at the festival about her autobiography, "The Truth About Me" as a transgender person. Then I had dinner with a group that included Martin Amis, Isabel Fonseca, Jay McInerney and Candace Bushnell. Me and Candy are going shopping together next time in Jaipur.

Brown Hawk Owl sleeping the day away

Now, I am at The Bagh, one of my all-time favorite heritage hotels in Bharatpur next to Keoladeo National Bird Park. It's such an elegant, tasteful oasis with the most fantastic food. I can't gush enough about it. I had fresh mustard greens the other night and keema muttar, a really toothsome dish of minced mutton, spices and peas. And the 12 acres with hundreds of trees are filled with birds from yellow-footed green pigeons and grey Indian hornbills to a very rare Brown Hawk Owl. The markings on its white breast look like little brown hearts. One of the workers pointed it out to me one day and said "One piece" indicating there was only one owl of that kind in the tree, like it was a piece of toast. So funny. I love it.

Jaipur Literature Festival—A Really Big Show

Today is the third day of the Jaipur Literature Festival at Diggi Palace. It's packed with literature lovers from around the world, writers, authors, Pulitzer Prize winners and students whom I've seen screeching at the name of Junot Diaz like he's a teenage idol.

Martin Amis, Junot Diaz, Jay McInerney and Richard Ford.

I'm managing a team of writers covering each of the 200 plus author sessions for press releases sent around the world. So far I've covered sessions as diverse as "A Hijra's Life" about A. Revathi, a transgender woman,  who wrote her autobiography, "The Truth About Me," to "The Crisis of the American Novel" with panelists Richard Ford, Junot Diaz, and Jay MacInerney with Martin Amis moderating. Newsflash: There is no crisis as all of us as readers know.

Topics are obviously wide ranging and include history, politics, art, music, travel, writing seminars, and fiction galore. This year (my first) one of the overriding themes is preservation and care of Indian literature in its original languages (over 120 of them) and translation to English so the legacy does not disappear.

The amazing things about the festival are its accessibility to authors and artists and exchange of ideas. This FREE festival is jammed. I can't imagine how many people are here but last year there were 30,000. For authors, crew, and delegates (who actually pay a relatively nominal price of $300 for five days) the food and drink including beer and wine is plentiful and free flowing. The sponsors, of whom there are many, must have poured millions into it. The directors, William Dalrymple and Namita Gokhale are tireless, as  are all of the people working it.

Aside from the literary part of the festival, it's fantastic people watching and the outdoor setting is beautiful—I can hear parakeets squawk and cows moo at some of the sessions.  There are two days left of the festival. If you're in Jaipur, come!

Baby Monkey Sitting Backwards on a Pig

Thanks to my friend Jennifer Worick, I recently saw the video Baby Monkey (Going Backwards) on a Pig. Now, I have my own version.



Baby Monkey grooming a pig


Yesterday I visited Galta, aka The Monkey Temple, a 30-plus minute tuk-tuk ride from Jaipur. Surrounded by rocky canyon walls, the grounds encompass grassy lawns, beautifully painted havelis, a three tier pool used for bathing by both monkeys and humans, and temples dedicated to Hanuman, the monkey god.

Tuesday is Hanuman day so the resident monkeys, both red faced (Rhesus Macaque) and black face (Hanuman Langur) are well fed. Worshippers of Hanuman, the god of strength and valor, offer fruits, chapatis (Indian bread) and peanuts to the primates.

I walked to the top of the canyon, past the pools and satiated monkeys to find an area where lots of baby monkeys were at play among a few big pigs. The monkeys swung, scrambled, screeched, fought, and played with plastic water bottles. I fed them a few peanuts.

One baby monkey became very interested in a reclining pig—that at first I thought was dead. "He is resting," said the self-professed "monkey whisperer" standing there. Then I noticed the white bristles of his coat moving up and down with his breath. 

The baby monkey proceeded to climb all over the pig, look in his ears, search for treats (fleas?) on the top of his head, sit backwards on back and play with his tail. The only thing he didn't do was ride him.

NEW Delhi Airport

Wow. The Indira Gandhi International Airport has come light years in just the four years I've been traveling to India. The new landing pad has it all—state-of-the-art travel facilities, sleek and modern interiors, good shopping, lots of dining choices and way better bathrooms. But in a way, I miss the feel of the "old" airport.

Yogic mudra art at the New Delhi airport.

Gone are the porters roaming about ready to help with luggage for a few rupees. It's all self-serve now, I'm sure a result of increased security. The little place with tea for 15 rupees is gone. Instead, there's a chain sandwich shop.

Technology is vastly improved, but I was more entertained back then. When my luggage was lost in October, 2006 I experienced my first machinations of Indian bureaucracy. I filled out forms with carbon copy papers in between, then watched as an employee copied exactly what I wrote onto other forms. At the desk was a dusty dinosaur of a printer. I was sent across the terminal to get my lost luggage form stamped—apparently for no reason since the official didn't even glance at it. Now, nearly everything is automated.

Walking outside I breathed my first breath of pungent and memorable smoke-filled night-time air in Delhi and watched the chaos of cars and people before me. (One thing that's mysteriously missing from this modern terminal is inclined curbs—handy for luggage carts and the handicapped. They might be there, but I couldn't find them.) Now, people wait behind guard rails and taxis are ready and waiting in numbered spots in orderly queues. Yes, it's more convenient, but not nearly as lively.

Oddly, upon my arrival this time the area inside the terminal had that same smoky smell. I was nostalgically comforted.

Idol Makers

Putting the finishing touches on Krishna.

This is not about singers on American Idol. Jaipur is where some of the real idols are made. Within the labyrinth of the Johari Bazaar in the "Pink City" of Jaipur are dozens of idol makers. These artists have been hand-carving marble statues of Hindu deities for generations, sometimes specializing in a single deity. It is said there are hundreds of thousands of gods and goddesses within the Hindu philosophy, so they have plenty to choose from.

The skills of these artists are noteworthy. They carve freehand and from memory. Their workshops in the alleys are wide open. It's a fascinating place to watch the craftsmen at work.

The smallish anterior rooms are all painted a powder blue, perhaps to better show off the white marble statues. At dusk there is a fine mist of white marble dust swirling through the air, coating the dirt roads and giving the alleys an appropriate ethereal, other-worldly look. Artists in their white pajamas are purchased atop some of the larger idols, hammer and chisel and hand. Some are painting them in bright colors (I saw black idols with pink toenails). There is no room for error—if there is a flaw in the carving, it cannot be used in a temple. A small likeness of Ganesh may take 40 days to carve, a 5-foot tall Krishna may take 11 months.

Hard at work creating gods and goddesses.

Some artists not only carve images of Ganesh, Shiva, or Hanuman, but also busts of departed loved ones, freedom fighters such as Mahatma Gandhi, and even Nobel Laureates. Some of the most startling statues are lifelike likenesses of loved ones. I mistook one seated in the lotus position for a real person.