Tomorrow is Matt's birthday, we're in India and I am reminded about how unpredictable life can be. It's the first time we've really spent a few days totally together since Delhi. I'm aware that I've been exploring alone a lot, as we stumble over each other a bit bargaining for cabs and fending off street hawkers.
Right now, I look down at my painted hands, the ornate detailed henna I got a few weeks ago, fading away and I think about our little room in Pune, lovely 509. Now, Matt and I are on a rooftop restaurant of our hotel, airing out after a quick swim and an long, hot day in the Mamallapuram sun. Our little guest house garden is lit with strands of winking lights and features statuets of busty women dancing and bathing. In the distance we gaze toward the light house, its shinning eye cricling round and round. Far in the distance a barroaton muzeen calls the faithful Muslims to prayer. Mixed with the singing melodies of buses and gnarly growl of stone carving workshops, Mamallapuram is no ordinary city by the sea.
We spend our day roaming around millenia old ruins. With the sun already high, and the humidity hanging think in the air we headed off to the Shore Temple; one of the oldest stone monument in Southern India. My darling Matt had done all his research, knew the stories and helped me identify the characters. I'll let him elaborate on Arjuna's Penance, and the spectacle of the carvings. What did strike me as we walked along the rows of carved cows and worn down pillars, is that everything eventually returns to where it came. Man's efforts, the celebration of life and love and toil. To carve a stone, a gigantic labor of earthly devotion still can stand erect some 3,000 years later. However, the once elaborate figures, the deep and fantastic relief sculptures, have been smoothed over by the sea. Lapped into submission and faded. They look to me like ghosts, shadows of devotion, of memories and cultures long since erroded into time.
After a quick lunch we were off to Arjuna's Penance. One short kilometer west of Shore Temple, Arjuna's Penance is compled of thunderous boulders tumbled together. Large slabs of dense, grey stone jut out the earth and litter the tropical trees and low shrubbery. Sprinkled with monkeys, goats, the occasional wild dogs and travelers, Arjuna's Penance feels leagues removed from the ancient ruins of Shore Temple. Amongst the boulders, huge cave temples have been carved into the stone. The craft is breath taking, even all these years later, and one cannot help but imagine the sisterns of sweat spilled in their construction. We climbed up and down the boulders, sometimes with the assistance of ancient steps notched into the sides, other time holding hands gingerly as we balanced on the slick slabs. For the most part, the park is unguarded and unregulated. Unfortunately, this means lots of litter and a chance of young couples to sneak away and cuddle. We even saw a monkey steal an young girls small bag of treats out of her hand. Monkeys are a personal least favorite of mine, with there creepy human hands and thorny little teeth. Baby monkeys, like most baby anything are undeniably cute, but there charm quickly wears off.
All in all, I have once again, here I have felt a great sense of longing. I long to work my hands, at building something, anything of significance. I feel the intimacy of many generation of crafts people. Also, sitting atopt the giant boulder with Matt, gazing out over the city, the sea breeze in our face, I am reminded how lucky I am. Matt and I, arm in arm watching monkeys play in the sun, on an adventure of a life time. I am trying to cherish all these moments. Trying to tell him how lucky I know I am.
-Meg
Right now, I look down at my painted hands, the ornate detailed henna I got a few weeks ago, fading away and I think about our little room in Pune, lovely 509. Now, Matt and I are on a rooftop restaurant of our hotel, airing out after a quick swim and an long, hot day in the Mamallapuram sun. Our little guest house garden is lit with strands of winking lights and features statuets of busty women dancing and bathing. In the distance we gaze toward the light house, its shinning eye cricling round and round. Far in the distance a barroaton muzeen calls the faithful Muslims to prayer. Mixed with the singing melodies of buses and gnarly growl of stone carving workshops, Mamallapuram is no ordinary city by the sea.
We spend our day roaming around millenia old ruins. With the sun already high, and the humidity hanging think in the air we headed off to the Shore Temple; one of the oldest stone monument in Southern India. My darling Matt had done all his research, knew the stories and helped me identify the characters. I'll let him elaborate on Arjuna's Penance, and the spectacle of the carvings. What did strike me as we walked along the rows of carved cows and worn down pillars, is that everything eventually returns to where it came. Man's efforts, the celebration of life and love and toil. To carve a stone, a gigantic labor of earthly devotion still can stand erect some 3,000 years later. However, the once elaborate figures, the deep and fantastic relief sculptures, have been smoothed over by the sea. Lapped into submission and faded. They look to me like ghosts, shadows of devotion, of memories and cultures long since erroded into time.
After a quick lunch we were off to Arjuna's Penance. One short kilometer west of Shore Temple, Arjuna's Penance is compled of thunderous boulders tumbled together. Large slabs of dense, grey stone jut out the earth and litter the tropical trees and low shrubbery. Sprinkled with monkeys, goats, the occasional wild dogs and travelers, Arjuna's Penance feels leagues removed from the ancient ruins of Shore Temple. Amongst the boulders, huge cave temples have been carved into the stone. The craft is breath taking, even all these years later, and one cannot help but imagine the sisterns of sweat spilled in their construction. We climbed up and down the boulders, sometimes with the assistance of ancient steps notched into the sides, other time holding hands gingerly as we balanced on the slick slabs. For the most part, the park is unguarded and unregulated. Unfortunately, this means lots of litter and a chance of young couples to sneak away and cuddle. We even saw a monkey steal an young girls small bag of treats out of her hand. Monkeys are a personal least favorite of mine, with there creepy human hands and thorny little teeth. Baby monkeys, like most baby anything are undeniably cute, but there charm quickly wears off.
All in all, I have once again, here I have felt a great sense of longing. I long to work my hands, at building something, anything of significance. I feel the intimacy of many generation of crafts people. Also, sitting atopt the giant boulder with Matt, gazing out over the city, the sea breeze in our face, I am reminded how lucky I am. Matt and I, arm in arm watching monkeys play in the sun, on an adventure of a life time. I am trying to cherish all these moments. Trying to tell him how lucky I know I am.
-Meg
You are both lucky to be sharing such a wonderful adventure together! Enjoy, relax and cherish the time!!
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