6
In Rajputana the most prominent figure is Mirabai, a princess of Mewar, who was a contemporary of Vidyapati. She more properly belongs to Western Hindi, as she wrote her songs, which are extremely popular, in Braj Bhasha. The following is one of them which is current all over Northern India. “Kanh” is one of the many forms which the name Krishna takes:
Kanh have I sought. The price he asked I gave.
Some cry, “’Tis great,” and others jeer, “’Tis small.”
I gave in full, weighed to the utmost grain,
My love, my life, my self, my soul, my all.
Pre-dawn, pre-tea tea stall scene, Jodhpur, grease-covered radio, tilted backward in niche next voltage regulator, vociferously putting forth strains of Hindi ballad; now switched off mid-sentence by tea stall’s single waiter. Sound background replaced by roar of gas flame under milk cauldron, chirping of birds, cough of Hindi-newspaper-reading patron in jacket, sweater, ascot-like arrangement. Tea arrival “clunk” on table top; as yet too hot to drink.
Through-portal mauve-streaked-gray clouds, purple well of horizon. Perspective electric lines frame avenue, where shadowy pedestrians are moving a cow downstreet, crossing in silhouette. Man in black cape, pants reading only slightly lighter, crossing the street, caught at mid-point. In the restaurant’s light, a figure in natural wool wrap sits holding hot tea at chin level, in conversation with another dark figure, who throws end of checked shawl up and over shoulder, tilting mustachioed face into moon-like posture to do so. The sky has brightened and recolored itself: pale purple strokes against a dimly whitening background. Waiter turns radio back on: up-beat ballad commencement.
Large dairy milk can arrival, milk decanted into large open-mouthed vessels, preliminary to boiling. White cow ambles across intersection, continues, head down, along curb, gait majestic; past “St. John’s Secondary School” (black on white). Waiter has almost finished cleaning benches, tables outside, having earlier wiped clean all those inside. Sun, not yet dawned, gives enough light to make out green of trees, which still read more gray than green.
Drum beat, heavily-stringed, almost martial popular song sets new mood, sky greatly lightened, pink-streaked above, bluish in background, grayed at horizon. Stall interior receiving first of natural light (to augment single fluorescent bulb). Youth in pink shirt, black vest approaches proprietor for second glass of tea. Woman in deep red, 300 yards upstreet, makes her progress towards us, pauses, extends wing-like arm, her sari trailing from it, to male figure in orange turban, brown sheepskin vest, white dhoti. She now turns corner before tea stall, enormous silver marriage anklets glinting, gold nose pin, wrinkled brown face, bare brown feet.
“Limca” reads store-interior concrete ice chest, the ad’s white letters painted on red ground, yellow swirls, green base, “i” of “Limca” dotted with a flower. On pastel green walls behind, a color print: Lakshmi in bright red sari, Ganesha beside her. Atop cooler, a silver pitcher, red plastic water vessel. Between them a box of bread rolls reading “HAMAM, The Family Soap.”
Clientele picking up, conversation livelier, nervous energy on the increase. Yellow-shirted 22-year-old takes station atop cooler, white pants, gray/white running shoes, red socks. Opens Hindi paper, sips from tea glass, tosses scarf (in one turn) about his neck. Seven other dark figures ring the small room, over papers/in (simultaneous) conversation. A black bull struts by. Waiter leans over boiling milk cauldron, scrapes at its bottom with iron scraper. Pavement of avenue whited with pale light of still-not-arisen sun.
Jodhpur traffic roundabout, sweepers dusting paper/refuse off residual layer of sand/dirt. “Mahadeva, or Iswara, is the tutelary divinity of the Rajpoots of Mewar.” Three women at work: “And from the early annals of the dynasty appears to have been, with his consort Isami, the sole object of Gehlote adoration.” Floral white-and-magenta sari underneath orange-and-blue wrap, over which a purple-and-red-inwoven woolen shawl. “Iswara is adored under the epithet of Eklinga (one phallus).” Yellow-with-red-and-white-floral-patterned sari (underneath). “And is either worshipped in his monolithic symbol.” A deep chromium overwrap. “Or as Isawara Chaonukki, the quadriform divinity.” In turn overlaid with rust-and-white-together-woven woolen shawl. The woman nearest author sweeps around him, raising cloud of dust which turns notebook page gritty. Results of her effort: a pile of white paper, cigarette butts, bubble gum wrapper (red-and-blue), fragment of (yellow) wrapping paper, (silver) interior of cigarette pack, matchbox, milk carton, plastic wrapper; straw, pebbles, little clods of dirt.
An “auto” stops briefly, filled with 5 women on their way to work. “Arjuna continues by declaring that Krishna is God of gods (deva-deva).” Three seated in the 2-person seat, 2 crouched at their feet on floor of passenger compartment. “But his manifestation is not known by gods or by demons.” All happily engaged in straightforward conversation. “For he alone knows his self by his own self.” Driver addresses audience of outdoor tea stall. “Krishna replies by giving a long list of his presence in all great forms.” A flock of 2 dozen pigeons flaps up and out of the roundabout. “He is Vishnu of the solar spirits.” Resettles. “Indra of the gods.” Shifts about. “Shiva of the Rudras.” Half a dozen at a time. “The letter A of the alphabet.” The pink-saried sweeper. “Immortal Time.” Having finished her portion. “And Death.” Stands in conversation with a fourth. “He is not only strength of the strong.” The cart-pusher. “But also prince of deceivers.” The latter in peach-with-light-green-flowered sari, red-yellow-and-fine-blue-line-striped overgarment, lime-green-flowered black-checked woolen shawl. “He is Vyasa, author of the Gita.” In conversation. “He is Vasudeva.” Both together notice author activity. “His manifest form.” Smile. “He the very hearer Arjuna (Dharamjaya).” The pink-saried woman. “His the seed of all beings, for no moving or unmoving being could exist without him.” Gives author. “Every manifestation that shows power is sprung from a fragment of his glory.” The one-hand namaste sign. “The whole world supported with a single fragment of himself.” Smiles in turn at partner. “And he still remains” (quotations from Geoffrey Parrinder, Avatar and Incarnation).
Two red tractors pulling carts piled to excess with shit-burdened straw pass through square, followed by 2 camel-drawn carts, 4-foot high bald rubber tires, laden with wood, the second a bicycle tied on. Two identical brown trucks, their holds filled with burlap sacks, these in turn bulging with grain. Blue bus; white Ambassador; scooter with man, wife and daughter. “The sacred bull, Nanda, has his altar attached to all the shrines.” The pigeons flap up. “Of Iswara.” Half-circle the square. “Like that of Mneves or Apis to those of the Egyptian Osiris.” Return to the roundabout.
First direct rays of sun through remaining sweeper’s saffron sari, illuminating the red top that covers her mature breasts, heavy upper arms. “Nanda occasionally has his separate shrines.” Two saried figures, one in pink, one in red-and-green, carry huge piles of cow dung in baskets atop their heads. “There is one in the valley of Oodipoor reputed to be oracular as regards the seasons.” Behind the saffron-yellow-red sweeper, the red and yellow of “HERO Pacer” moped shop. “The bull was the steed of Iswara and carried him in battle.” Blue “LUNA,” red “LUNA” of second cycle shop. “He is often represented upon it, with his consort Isa, at full speed.” “HERO Bicycles” above, a red 5-pointed star appointing its corner. “I will not stop to inquire whether the ancient Grecian fable of the rape of Europa by the tauriform Jupiter may not be derived, along with much of their mythology, from the Hindu pantheon.” Other signs in red, yellow, black. “Whether that pantheon was originally erected on the Indus or the Ganges.” Red, yellow, blue. “Or that more central scene of early civilization.” Red, white and black. “The banks of the Oxus.”
Sun now risen over roadside shrine, towards which a black bull saunters. “The bull was offered to Mithras by the Persian.” The rest of a herd of a dozen cattle following slowly. “Opposed as it now appears to Hindu faith.” Some still lingering over bright green fodder. “He formerly bled.” Offered by woman in purple sari, electric orange overwrap. “On the altars of the Sun-god.” Light glances off enamel sign so brightly as to obscure even its color. “On which not only the Bald-dan (in this sacrifice four gods, Lakshmi-Narayana, N’mia-Mecheswar, Brimha, and Anunta).” Three stately female figures. “(The nine planets and Prit’hu, or the earth, with her ten guardian deities, are worshipped.). Baskets poised atop their heads. “Here the so-called offering of the bull was made.” All in 3-color sari-overwrap combinations. “But also human sacrifice.” Together pass through the square.
Early morning Jodhpur scene, outskirts of downtown. “The sand, since we crossed the Loomi, had become gradually heavier, and was quite fatiguing as we approached the capital of ‘the region of death.’” Wedding party assembling in courtyard for breakfast. “But the Marwarries and the camels.” Three girls with hair still unbraided. “Appeared to move through it.” In red pants, yellow pajama frock; pale floral-patterned shift with emerald sweater; somber mauve jacket. “As briskly as our men would on the plain of the Ganges.” A fourth, bringing up the rear, in yellow dress, green-red-black-patterned wrap, her tresses piled on top of her head. Against the inner wall of the courtyard: the large branches of crepe myrtle, blinded by the early sun.
“The fort is erected on a mole projecting from a low range of hills; higher than the surrounding objects, it is not commanded.” Over the wall an immense, empty athletic field, almost entirely denuded of grass. At the far corner a group of 4 men in suits have assembled to discuss something. “This table-ridge (mountain we can scarcely term it, since its most elevated portion is not more than three hundred feet in height) is a curious feature in a region of uninterrupted aridity.” Meanwhile, from the military base across the road, come the sounds of reveille, followed by shouted command, concerted slapping of shoe leather on flagstone. “It is about twenty-five miles in length, and, as far as I could determine from a bird’s-eye view and from report, between two and three in breadth.” Up the street, which separates athletic field from base, move single cyclists, commuters on speedy scooter, less speedy moped. A troop truck arrives from the north, signals, turns into the main gate, camouflaged in brown and beige (no green). An “auto,” in black with pale yellow stripe; a large truck in red and white; a man in white shirt, boy in a red sweater, green pants, riding the bar of his bike.
Behind the 4 black-suited men (joined now by a fifth dismounting a black motorcycle), another wall, behind which rise the faces of beige, peach and dirty white buildings, none more than 3 stories tall. “The capital being placed on the highest part of the southern extremity, it may be said to be detached from it. The northern point, the highest, and on which the palace is built, is less than three hundred feet.” A chipmunk runs along the ledge where author sits to write. “Everywhere it is scarped, but especially at this point.” Just over the top of the far wall. “Against which the batteries of the League were directed in 1806.” Two westbound tractors. “At least a hundred and twenty feet.” One red, one white. “Of perpendicular height.” Both pulling open, empty cargo beds.
“Strong walls and numerous towers encircle the crest of the hill, encompassing a space of great extent, as may be judged from the dimensions of the base, said to be four miles in circuit. Seven barriers are thrown across the circuitous ascent, each having immense portals and their separate guards. Under the walls are two small lakes: the Ranni Talab, or ‘Queen’s Lake,’ to the east; and the Golab Sagur, or ‘Rose-water Sea,’ to the south, from which the garrison draws up water in buckets.” Above the beige, peach and white buildings, over the treetops that barely transcend them, a band of heavy mist, out of which, at considerable distance, emerges the fort, capping a hill of some 300 feet. Its bastions are smoothly joined to one another, leaving only a cluster of well-defended buildings visible at the eastern extreme, though a single white cluster, brightly lit in the streaming sun, designates the westernmost terminus of the structure. “Inside there is also a coond, a reservoir about ninety feet in depth, excavated from the rock, which can be filled from these tanks; and there are likewise wells within, but the water is brackish.” Over all a single curved cloud mass extends from one horizon to the other, arching so as to leave the palest blue sky beneath it. As though emerging from it, rays above striate the sky, sending themselves outward, higher, farther, into great elongated cirrus wisps high above author’s head and beyond.
“Within are many splendid edifices, the Raja’s residence a succession of palaces, each prince since the founder having left memorials of his architectural taste. The city to the eastward of the citadel is encompassed by a strong well, three coss, or nearly six miles, in extent, on which a hundred and one bastions or towers are distributed; on the rampart are mounted several raiklas or swivels.” Traffic along the street just over the far wall begins to increase. “There are seven gates to the capital, each bearing the name of the city to which it leads.” A pale turquoise bus passing from east to west. “The streets are very regular.” Bicyclists moving in both directions. “And adorned with many handsome edifices, of free stone, out of which the structure is composed.” A woman passes in brilliant magenta sari, its tail pulled over her head as hood. “The number of families some years ago was stated to be 20,000, probably 80,000 souls, an estimate too great for the present day.” An orange-sided truck, trimmed in white, its cab in pale green, passes silently from west to east. “The Golab Sagur is the favorite lounge of the inhabitants, who recreate among its gardens.” Meanwhile, across athletic field moves a black-jacketed figure atop pale lemon-green scooter, pursued by 2 dogs. “And, strange to say, the most incomparable pomegranates (anar) grow within, far superior even to those of Cabul, which they resemble in the peculiarity of being be-dana, without grain, rather a misnomer for a fruit, the characteristic of which is its granulations.” A crow flaps past in the near ground. A dove sits on the near wall. “But this is in contradistinction to those of India.” To the east more low-lying buildings, their fronts in soft charcoal shadow. “Which are all grain and little pulp.” Through a gap between wall of author’s building and building in near ground. (Quotations from “Personal Narrative.”) Another east-west avenue visible. (From Lieut.-Col. James Tod.) Up and down which more cyclists. (Annals and Antiquities.) A camel pulling firewood cart. (Of Rajasthan.) A blue van, white-trimmed. (1829.) Heading east.
*
“I shall give an abstract of the ceremonies on each of the nine days sacred to the god of war.”
“1st of Asoj.” Gloomy interior, palace of the raj hotel, 6:30 am, birds chirping indoors, beneath white-painted concavity of the dome. “After fasting, ablution, and prayer on the part of the prince and household, the double-edged khanda is removed from the hall of arms.” The structure, designed in the early twentieth century and completed just before Independence, resembles a California robber baron’s estate, a 1920s movie set, a generalized architectural enormity. “Having received homage of the court, it is carried in procession to the gate of Kishen and delivered to the Raj Jogi, the Mehunts, and the band of Jogis assembled in front of the temple of Devi.” Beneath the dome, on a marble floor, conversational groups of fancy old-fashioned furniture. “By these, the monastic militant adorers of Heri, the god of battle, the brand emblematic of divinity is placed on the altar before the image of his divine consort.” Chairs, at an awkward distance from one another, surround mirrored, gilt tables that forbid anyone to use them. A sofa, mirror embedded in its back, likewise warns the sitter away. “At three in the afternoon the nakarras, or grand kettledrums, proclaim from the Tripolia the signal for the assemblage of the chiefs with their retainers.” At the center of the sub-dome circular esplanade, a rug in light rouge, pale blue floral designs, atop which another fancy table, at the center of whose glassy surface a freshly polished brass pot, a single rather scrawny plant spreading its half-dozen leaves barely over the pot’s edge. “The Rana and his cavalcade proceed directly to the stables, where a buffalo is sacrificed in honor of the war horse.” Around the first stage of the room runs a series of double columns. “Thence the procession moves to the temple of Devi.” Their supports in the form of winged griffins. “Where the Raja-Chisea (Godi) has preceded.” The sculptural design flat, almost abstract, as though the carving of detail were not complete. “Upon this, the Rana seats himself close to the Raj Jogi.” In the niches behind these, lit by electric lights, displays, in stone, of weaponry: “Presents two pieces of silver and a coco-nut.” Buckler with sword; mace; lance. “Performs homage to the sword (karga).” Shield with Saracenic blades. “And returns to the palace.” The interior sparrows begin to chirp rather loudly, speaking and responding across the empty cavern, filling its protestant-church-like space with noise.
“Asoj. 2nd.” Palace of the raj exterior, 7:00 am, author seated on wall encircling the grounds, from which a view of the massive sandstone structure, pre-dawn sky cloudless from horizon to horizon. The palace (hotel) is almost demure in its architectural-model serenity, its ridiculous extravagance. To the east, the hilltop fort, white buildings of Jodhpur’s denizens nestled at its feet, shrouded in mist. Above the eastern horizon successive bands of pale gray-blue, light purple, pink, all shading into cream. The day is getting underway.
“In similar state he proceeds to the Chougan, their Champs de Mars, where a buffalo is sacrificed.” Arab (Muslim) music audible throughout the landscape, which, in the middle ground, embraces a large wasteland of rocky outcrop, scruffy foliage, roamed by a few goats, a dog, a cow. “On the same day another buffalo victim is killed by the nervous arm of a Rajpoot, near the Torum-pol, or triumphal gate.” The sound of a truck gearing up below to make some early delivery/departure.
The hotel (palace) appears almost completely deserted, a single light on in one of its third-story rooms. Even the noisy servants sweeping steps and hallway have disappeared. “In the evening the Rana goes to the temple of Amba Mata.” Crows circle its high dome and modest turrets. On the green closely-trimmed sward before it, a marble pavilion sits vacant, a green lawn mower parked on this its back side. “(The Universal Mother).” Hands stuffed deep in pockets against the cold, a figure in green coat, green beret. “Where several goats and buffaloes bleed to the goddess.” Walks briskly through the Sunday-morning landscape.
“The 3rd. Procession to the Chougan, where another buffalo is offered.” “The Opium-eaters of the Thar:” “And in the afternoon five buffaloes and two rams are sacrificed to Harsid Mata.”
Drowned in the ocean of opium
I see her eyes like angels,
Brows like bended bows,
Cheeks and lips ablaze with love.
“Good morning, everybody. I would like to tell you about the life of our people. We are the Vishari.” Red-purple sari, gold headpiece on headband, fringe of sari through mouth. Skinny legs of white-shirted, white-shorted 11-year-old girl. “The women, you will find, are very strong and very beautiful.” “In spiritless sluggishness.” “Especially we have the tree called the neem.” “Calm as the gliding moon.” “Which we never cut.” “I sink in a slumber, unperishing youth.” “We have very small beans.” “I see her like a rose.” “Which we use as a vegetable.” “Nodding her head in merry minstrelsy.” Besaried creature’s hand before face in a gesture of modesty; 11-year-old, hands clasped, arm atop head; a buxom aunt standing beside her. “Most of the trees you will find here either with very small leaves or no leaves at all.” Light glancing off buxom brown breasts of the aunt, she now with green fringe of sari in her mouth. “Whatever they need they mostly grow here.” “Wondrous sweet, Let me entwine my body with yours.” Red-saried 50-year-old in shadow lets outer garment drop, revealing green-and-red undergarment. “In thy poison there is fragrance.” Rearranges outer garment, holding forehead to shade her eyes from the sun. “In thy breath soft music flows.” Silver bracelets cascading, mid-arm to wrist. “Which is very famous for the wildlife and the trees.”
“On the 4th, as on every one of the nine days, the first visit is to their Champs de Mars.” “Those who have never loved her, Say that opium’s shade is black.” “The day opens with the slaughter of a buffalo.” Terrain of sand, sparse intermixture of straw; twisted neem; 3 “grazing” cattle. “Oh, what a queer judgment.” Slabs of marble and sandstone against a long stone shed. “For they know not the qualities of my beauty.” “The Rana proceeds to the temple of Devi.” The woman standing in its stone lintel has opened her sari, her silver marriage anklets glinting in the sun. “Here he worships the sword, the standard of the Raj Jogi, to whom as high priest of Siva, he pays homage.” Her chest is almost bare. “Next he makes an offering of sugar, a garland of roses.” Her hand held so as to keep her eyes from view. “A buffalo, having been fixed to a stake near the temple, is offered in sacrifice, the Rana piercing him from his traveling throne with an arrow.” Her belly is clothed in dark green, single vertical strip in red running from crotch to navel. “In the torrid recess of her wild breast.” “He is raised on men’s shoulders and surrounded by his vassals.” “Genuine love overflows.” “In the days of his strength he seldom failed to bury the feather in the flank of the victim.” Her feet posturing as in a classical dance position. “Responsive embraces fast and tight swing in delicious delight.” “But on the last occasion.” “In a small heaven of love.” She grasps her sari. “His enfeebled arm made him exclaim:” And pulls it between her legs. “‘I draw not the bow as in the days of yore.’” Then returns into the stone shed.
Elder women crouching on haunches, author in sympathetic posture, 8-year-old girl imitating author. Buxom aunt’s green top reveals bare bottoms of brown breasts. Opium ceremony transpiring behind us, partly for tourist consumption. Eldest woman, hand trembling, shades sun off eyes, a staff, a white metal plate, a brass vessel at her feet. Placing her incredibly wrinkled elbows on her knees, she takes up brass vessel and drinks from it. Meanwhile, 2 white-turbaned elders continue opium preparation, apparatus before them, surmounted by swan-like bird in silver. Drinking of opiated solution, followed by stroking of white moustaches, laughter. Liquid dipped from palm into distant vessel, drunk off from palm (of addict). Wooden vessel presented. Author, proffered “Only two drops,” declines. The little girls have put on skirts, red socks, tennis shoes. Elder women all in reds: alizarin, faded rust, crimson. Large nose ornaments in sunburst design, at the center of which, rubies. From under the skirt of one of the elder women, the cry of an infant.
Pots. “On the 5th.” Large gray pots (upside down). “After the usual sacrifice.” Small yellow pots with gray designs (right side up). “At the Cougan.” Pots set sideways into a wall. “And an elephant fight.” Pots in shards. “The procession marches to the temple.” Potters assembling for tourists. “Of Asapurna (Hope).” “Especially the Muslims, because of their religious training, do not believe in the family planning” (tour guide). Sangatari (potters’ village). “Bring the clay from the river bed, mix it with the cow dung, and do everything by hand.” Blob of clay on wheel, stick turning platform (more and more rapidly). Up into conical form; thumbs inserted; pot taking shape. Lip formed; reformed; lip reformed again. Suddenly. “A buffalo and ram are offered to the goddess.” As author writes, pot cut off platform by string at base. “Adored by all the Rajpoots.” Kids, who had been standing about the potter, turn to regard author activity. “And the tutelary divinity of the Cougans.” Tongues out, laughing, looking into his notebook. “On this day.” “Pen, pen,” says kid to author, pointing. “The lives of some victims are spared.” “One, only one,” says author. “At the intercession.” Goat nudging his leg. “Of the Naggur-Seth, or chief magistrate.” Little girl with conjunctivitis-eyed baby sister. “And those of his faith.” Necklace in cheap gold imitation. “The Jains.” Baby in string of pearls.
“On the 6th.” “Please Tread into the Paradise of Water Birds, Black Buk and Chinkara.” “The Rana visits the Chougan.” “─ Wild Life Warden, Jodhpur.” “But makes no sacrifice.” Dust on notebook, dust in notebook. “That afternoon.” Dust on vehicles, dusty village, dusty road. “Prayers.” Dust in hair, mouth, nostrils, eyes. “And victims.” Full-family motorcycle past: “To Devi.” Man, wife, grandmother, child. “And in the evening, the split-ear ascetics.” Horn blaring. “Receive the visit.” Two turbans descending slope. “Of Rana.” One beige, one bright orange.
“After monsoon” (tour guide). Watering hole. “The fields will be covered with green.” Bird-clustered margins. “But not with flowers.” Up from which a carefully striding figure in red turban, olive military jacket, dhoti, bare feet on pebbly soil. “Many villages.” Pond surface in stillness. “Have no water.” Even dogs at alert. “And villagers must travel.” Birds have moved off its marge to chess-like positions. “As far as 10 kilometers.” Terrain unflinching. “No one.” Earth rim merciless. “Has electricity.” A swallow dips, flits over the pond, surgically knifing its surface at a single point.
“7th.” “Here they are making the blankets” (tour guide). Interior cool, mother-with-child moving past into inner room to return with finished wares. Child on mother’s shoulder, mother smiling a beautiful smile. Little hand holding blue full-breasted bodice. “After the daily routine at the Cougan.” Younger brother of mother standing nearby receives instructions from her. “And sacrifices to Devi (goddess of destruction). Weaver clunking machinery of loom, passing shuttle to add a skein to his lovely design. "The chief equerry is commanded to adorn the steeds with their new caparisons.” Mother, of 18, bonneted infant at her breast, also organizing scene by vocal commands. “And lead them to be bathed in the lake.” Now older sister, of 10, imitates method to organize even younger brothers and sisters. “Thunk, thunk” of shuttle-manipulation.
“At night.” On wall behind the weaver: “The sacred fire (hom).” Two nearly identical Polaroid views of second generation family members. “Is kindled.” More official b/w photos recording some ceremonial moment. “A buffalo and a ram.” Tinted with pastel washes. “Are sacrificed to the goddess.” Six loops of wool hang from a peg: “The Jogis are called up.” Brown, blood-red, purple, green, pink, natural white. “And feasted on boiled rice and sweetmeats.” An 8-point floral star painted low on the wall. “At the conclusion of the day.” Mother, in return from sunlit interior. “The Rana and his chieftain.” Pulls gently, whimsically, at her heavy yellow wrap. “Visit the hermitage.” Smiles again at author. “Of Sukria Bata.” Delicate baby in delicate repose on her shoulder. “An anchorite.” Another urchin appears, her brown hair spiky with disarray. “Of the Jogi sect.” Smiles at author.
“8th.” Late Sunday afternoon national TV viewing. “This day.” New Delhi ceremonies, prime minister and wife in reviewing stand. “The homa, or fire sacrifice, is performed in the palace.” Views of official buildings, flags behind. Military band, red-jacketed, black-epauletted, performing on white drums, silver horns. “In the afternoon.” High color saturation TV registration. “The prince.” Shot of official building, wide avenue, zebra stripes of crosswalk. “With a select cavalcade.” Creamy cloud-streaked pale blue sky. “Proceeds to the village of Sameena.” Band plays Colonel Bogey theme. “Beyond the city walls.” From Bridge over the River Kwai. “And visits.” Into which is suddenly cut: “FANFARE” (yellow subtitles on TV screen). “The celebrated Gosaén.” Thence to “VIVAJ BHARAT” (military march). “His undefiled soul-force was so elate and lofty.” View of 6 camels. “That Durga could safely be styled as one of the greatest exponents of freedom that medieval India has ever produced.” Numbers 3 and 4 nose to nose at center of avenue. “The magnetic power of his sword; the charm of his charisma; and the rippling brooks of humanism were so deep and pervading.” View of band as it approaches this juncture. “That Durga has left an everlasting impression in the annals of Rajasthan, nay that of India.” Framing view, including the flag: “In the glories of Marwar.” Red, white and green. “The glorious Durga shall forever illumine in the vault of her heaven.” Close-up of marchers in their different headdress. “Like the glamour of a full moon.” “DRUMMER’S CALL.” “But let me depict it in verse:” Band about-faces.
Overbrimmed with grace
And embalmed with truth;
The soulful Durga strikes his note
Far and wide in Maroo’s
Fretted vault of heaven;
Durga, the unconquerable Will
And courage never to submit or yield . . .
“9th day.” “There is no morning procession.” Late afternoon sunlit view over Rajasthani plain from high elevation of palace (facing north). “The horses from the royal stables.” Mile-long expanse of deciduous trees. “As well as those of the chieftains.” Reading here as rough-nubbed carpet. “Are taken to the lake.” Yellow-green, dark green interspersed. “And bathed by their grooms.” As author views plain. “On returning from purification.” A dark-throated peacock. “They are caparisoned.” Iridescent green tail. “In their new housings.” Strides past. “Led forth.” On palace terrace. “By their grooms.” Heading due west. “And receive the homage of their riders.” Magenta-flowered bushes form a background to his progress. “The Rana bestows a largesse on the master of the horses.” Which he interrupts only to peck at the grass. “The equerries.” The breeze has picked up in the interval. “And the grooms.” And now slightly rustles the locust-like trees that fill the near court. “At three in the afternoon.” Beyond that mile-long carpet. “The nakarras having thrice sounded.” The sandstone structures of 2 other turreted palaces. “The whole state insignia.” Then a thinning out of the plain’s vegetation.“ Proceed to Mount Matache.” Clumps and rows of trees on a dry grassy sward. “And bring home the sword.” As author writes, a single dandelion seed-ball floats by his balcony. “When its arrival at the court is announced.” Four crows flap past in graceful motion, just over the terrace’s balustrade. “The Rana advances.” Light now catches the sandstone structures on the plain. “And receives it with due homage.” Accentuating their beauty. “The whole of the Jogis are regaled.” In the farther distance, beyond the rows of trees, and opening out into a beige only touched with dark green. “The elephants and horses again receive homage.” Grazing land. “And the sword.” No doubt for the hardy sheep of Rajasthan. “The shield, and the spear.” And beyond: “Are worshipped within the palace.” To a mighty stone outcrop, some 5 to 7 miles distant. “At three in the morning.” The cooing of doves. “The prince.” The still light of the gray-pink-banded horizon. “Takes repose.” The crossing flight of half a dozen small birds.