28 August 2007
We went to Fatepur Sikri (Fah-teh-purr Sick-ree), another example of Mughal architecture at its best, at the urging of Pig. She asked, “As long as we have traveled this far, shouldn’t we go just a little bit farther?” So we visited this ancient fortress with its elephant stables, a master bedroom suite the size of a house with a stone bed elevated on giant pillars,and incredib...
27 August 2007
It was around midnight in Connaught Place, Delhi. We had arrived back in the capital city before our departure to Nepal the next morning. Then I realized, it’s just like going to PRIMITIVE.
13 August 2007
So I suggested we go to Ellora, hoping to find something equally great . . . but all that was there was eye training. After the shock of finding Pig's ancestors at Ajanta, we made our way to the caves at Ellora. Like the Ajanta caves, these are rock cut masterpieces which completely boggle the mind. But none of Pig's relatives were visible in the ancestral traces which have survived for many ce...
29 July 2007
It’s hard to imagine a grown man listening intently and carrying on a dialogue with a stuffed pig, unless the pig represents the inner child of his best friend, companion, and partner, Claudia Morgan. The pig was a gift from a family friend years ago, and in no time she was a principal member of our family.The pig is a beautiful shade of pink, with brown button eyes, and much to her disma...
24 July 2007
Upon returning from the sand and dust of Rajasthan, we found ourselves once again at the reception desk of the Imperial Hotel in New Delhi, a dignified, elegant enclave. “Welcome back,” said Anil, true recognition in his voice. He looked at our dusty, treasure-filled bags being carried into the lobby and spotted Pig riding shotgun on the lead bag. “Looks like Pig needs a bath,...
07 June 2007
It might as well be 1920 and I have just finished an excruciatingly exhausting day in the field, in search of great things to present at Primitive. I feel like I am on the Orient Express, which I have just rushed to catch, slumped in my compartment, wearing a wrinkled linen suit, my Pandora, the most reliable sunshield I know, swaying on a hat hook as the train begins to chug along. Loosening m...