Khajuraho

Yogi Ashram Guest House was a sight for sore eyes when I reached here last night after the long drive from Tala. The building is an amazing one, formerly a private residence, with an inner courtyard, arched doorways and a resident yogi…Shailesh. If the temps drop 20 degrees, I may try one of his classes.

I set out early this morning on foot for the main group of temples, hoping to avoid the worst of the heat. It wasn’t long before I had acquired an entourage: small children looking for lipstick (?), earrings, Pepsi and money; a tuktuk driver who made me promise to let him transport me back to the hotel; a young man on a motorcycle who did his best but failed to persuade me to hook up with him (in every sense of the word); and finally, some guy posing as a guide near the temple entrance. In other words, the traditional Indian Welcome Wagon.

I passed a huge sign on the way here with the word SEX written in six-foot high letters, and I now think it was a promotional billboard for Khajuraho’s temples. Cuz they’re all about sex…men and women, women and animals, men and animals, exhibitionism, masturbation. It must be the heat…

One young security guard, seeing that I was on my own, volunteered to take pictures of me in front of the main temple, then took me inside to explain in painstaking detail the various sexual acts that were taking place in the carvings. Like I wouldn’t have been able to figure that out for myself. Then he took me to the main Siva shrine and somehow convinced me to pray. Highly unusual I know but there was absolutely no point in launching into my self-righteous opinion about organized religion because he wouldn’t have understood, and I was still digesting all the sex talk…

On my way to the next temple, I met two women dressed in beautiful saffron-coloured saris who invited me to accompany them to the inner shrine. They were carrying flowers, water and food, and I was privileged to be present as they anointed the shrine, made their offerings and sang the morning prayers. Many others came to take part but I was right inside next to Siva with about seven Indian women in what felt like 50-degree heat. Afterwards, they gave me a flower to offer, placed the red mark on my forehead and gave me food to eat – coconut and bread. Maybe this prayer thing isn’t so bad after all.

Upon leaving the temple grounds, I was guided by some unknown person down a side alley towards the requisite shops where you can buy miniature figures having sex or monkeys masturbating. I settled on a pair of earrings, thinking I could get more use out of them.

The tuktuk driver whom I met earlier was actually waiting for me when i emerged from the shop, so I hopped in with him. He’s coming back to get me tonight at six. I have no idea where I’m going but he’s so earnest I couldn’t disappoint him.

The people (men) here are beautiful. Yogi Shailesh is something out of dream. The shopkeeper who sold me the earrings is a keeper too, as was the guy on the motorcycle with whom I had a short conversation as he drove alongside us on the way back to the guest house. Time for a cold shower…