In April of 2019, I had the opportunity to travel with a group of women across India, from the many-lakes city of Udaipur (the site of the first "Exotic Marigold Hotel" film) northward into the desert and across the country through Jodhpur and Jaipur to Agra and into the holy city of Benares (Varanasi). Along the way we stayed in half a dozen cities and visited several more.
On this journey I saw India's history unfold - from the life of the original nomadic tribes, through the Hindu Vedic invaders, through the Muslim invasions and their evolution as the Moghuls (Moogals), through the British invasion (the Raj), into the formation of the modern republic, and the rise of today's technology based middle class.
On this journey I saw India's history unfold - from the life of the original nomadic tribes, through the Hindu Vedic invaders, through the Muslim invasions and their evolution as the Moghuls (Moogals), through the British invasion (the Raj), into the formation of the modern republic, and the rise of today's technology based middle class.
The great 19th-century Gate of Bombay, with the Taj hotel (old and new) behind it, and tour boats in front. Our starting point was Bombay (Mumbai), where our planes arrived at the beautiful, museum-like Indira Gandhi airport. We stayed in a modern hotel overlooking the older part of the city, not far from the old Bombay Gate and Taj Hotel (the site of the series "Hotel India").
The first full day we boarded a boat to cross the bay to Elephant Island, where there's an ancient temple to Shiva, filled with marvelous larger-than-life carvings of the god and his wife, Parvati, all carved out of the living stone of the hillside.
On the trip back, I could feel a powerful connection with my grandmother, whose first glimpse of India, almost exactly 100 years ago, was as she got off her steamship and walked through that very gate.
The first full day we boarded a boat to cross the bay to Elephant Island, where there's an ancient temple to Shiva, filled with marvelous larger-than-life carvings of the god and his wife, Parvati, all carved out of the living stone of the hillside.
On the trip back, I could feel a powerful connection with my grandmother, whose first glimpse of India, almost exactly 100 years ago, was as she got off her steamship and walked through that very gate.
We flew from there to Udaipur and toured the palaces on the lakes. This city was the beginning of the several dynasties of Moghuls (Moogals) in the Northern India region that is now known as Rajastan. The main palace in Udaipur was built around 1700 using Persian technologies and styles, by a man who was called Maharana, "Great Warrior." His sons and grandsons founded several other cities that we visited and were called Maharajahs "Great Kings".
One of the courts of the Lake Palace in Udaipur
From there we rode in a small bus northward into the desert, touring an ancient Jain temple that the Muslims had destroyed but, through a gift from an American businessman, the stonework has been recently restored. I was enthralled by the filigree carving in the stonework, and the sense of peace that filled the open courtyards and covered chapels. Along the way we passed a farmer using an ox to turn a well for irrigating his fields - a process that's gone unchanged for at least a thousand years.
We stayed in several wonderful palace guest-houses, merchant's mansions, and hotels on this journey - each one demonstrating some of the unique architecture of the region. In Bikaner we were given rooms in the palace that were built during the time, and in the style, my grandmother was living, not too far away...
We stayed in several wonderful palace guest-houses, merchant's mansions, and hotels on this journey - each one demonstrating some of the unique architecture of the region. In Bikaner we were given rooms in the palace that were built during the time, and in the style, my grandmother was living, not too far away...
During most of the trip I was living in several centuries at the same time: the periods during which the buildings we toured were built and occupied, my grandmother's time there in the early 1900s, and the modern world of cellphones, buses, motorcycles, and internet. As a result, I don't think I was ever fully present in the moment - even though there were some marvelous ones...
One of the more memorable moments was up in the far northwestern desert, where we met some of the local tribespeople and they let us ride their camels along the dunes at sunset. (I think that's Pakistan on the far horizon.) That night we watched local tribes sing and dance the way they have for thousands of years - and very much the way the "Romany" or "gypsy" people do in rural Romania, today.
Another memorable moment was sunrise on the Ganges, in Benares (Varanasi), where we were able to take a boat out into the river and leave a flower candle for souls who wanted to be united with Mother Ganga. I left one for my grandmother and one for my friend Deva Ayama, a sanyasin who passed on just as I was leaving for this trip.
That night we got to listen and watch as a master Sitarist played, with his grandson and son-in-law accompanying... I was transported by the beauty and the skill.
That night we got to listen and watch as a master Sitarist played, with his grandson and son-in-law accompanying... I was transported by the beauty and the skill.
Of course, we had to visit the Taj Mahal at sunrise. I was surprised at how intensely connected I felt when I came through the gate and this so-familiar monument was right in front of me.
Our guide insisted on taking this picture...
Our guide insisted on taking this picture...
 A verse from the Koran is inlaid into the marble, adjusted so it looks the same size even though it's 50' high |  The early sun changing the white marble to rosy gold. The towers (minarets) lean slightly away from the tomb building so they wont fall on it if they collapse. |  The flower and vine decorations are inlaid semiprecious stones; they are constantly being replaced by the descendants of the original builders. |
A welcome painted for us in chalk by our beautiful hostess when we visited a 100-year old home in Udaipur.
I've waited my whole life to return to the land where my mother was born and my grandmother became an adult, married, worked on Gandhi's projects to empower women, and bore 2 children. I grew up on stories of India, and my childhood home was filled with brass bowls and beautifully woven rugs and other items my grandparents had brought back with them when they returned to the States in 1927.
my grandmother's 1960 painting, "Memories of India" (6"x8" - ground gemstones and gold leaf on gesso) This year everything came together to make the trip possible. I'm very glad I did it.
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