The Museum itself seems minuscule compared to the enormity of the temples and the vast expanse of the Archeological Museum. There is no power, so scramming around in the dark, I do manage to see a few items-made of terracotta and metal belonging to the tribes of Madhya Pradesh, as well as the Gond Art Paintings made by local artists. What makes the visit worthwhile though, is the artists I meet in and around the vicinity, creating works for the festival.
One of the reviews stated that the Lalit Temple view Hotel, ‘exudes a certain arrogance’, which was what piqued my curiosity. I dropped in after my visit to the Archeological Museum, which adjoins the hotel. After visiting the temples, the museum doesn’t remain a novelty. Plus, the renovations, the noise and a person who follows me around to ensure I don’t take any photographs, makes me want to flee. So, I do- to bask in the sun at Panna.
When I think Lalit, imagery of the the one in Srinagar comes to mind. Of course, the grandeour of it isn’t replicated in Khajuraho. But it does have its own charm. The salad isn’t unappetising, yet it’s not as fresh as delish as one would have wanted. The service is good, the ambience great and the place bustles with foreign tourists.
Have an absolutely fantastic weekend, at the Jashne-Rekhta. Barring my phone being picked from my pocket, while shooting, it was my idea of perfection.In the 36 years of my life, prior to the past one and half years, other than my men (kidding), nothing has really been stolen from me. First my car was stolen from infront of my house, then my car was broken into and the bag and tab were stolen and yesterday my pocket was picked and my 15 day old phone was stolen.
Obviously, some energies are releasing and something fabulous is coming my way.But as the rail gari, is going chuk, chuk, chuk, I’m having a hard time trying to not worry about the camera.
Did I not mention, I am on the way to Khajuraho? I type this in a darkened compartment, having just a few palpitations on my way. If you know me, you know that other than driving on my own, all other means of transport send a shiver down my spine. Knowing, just how uncomfortable this was going to be for me, the Father sent the driver and the Sugar man to drop me. Last minute the Mother decided to accompany them too and when I reached the station, the paltan increased as the Anonymous Aunty dropped in to surprise me.
I have not felt this lost and this pampered in a long time. As AA, settled me in, fussed over me-gave me a book to ‘distract me’, music to ‘soothe me’ and a million standing instructions, the man on the lower berth just looked at me and smirked. There are a million things I can do alone, travelling with strangers in a confined space, is obviously not something I do, well.