Miniature Paintings & More

While in Udaipur in Rajasthan I visited some of the studios known for producing miniature paintings, a traditional Indian art form. Artists painted everything from portraits to idyllic scenes from royal days with the aid of paint brushes made of squirrel tail hair(s). Rather than succumb to the chemicals that modern day painters use, those true to the art form use natural pigments including cow urine for the gold coloring.

Can't make it to India to see these masterpieces? Check out the Garden & Cosmos exhibit at the Seattle Asian Art Museum. It's a royally impressive collection of 58 paintings and works created from the 17th to the 19th century coming all the way from Jodhpur, in Rajasthan, India. And, it's the first exhibition of these works in the U.S.

These exotic creations of palace life, depictions of the gods, and portrayals of the cosmos are intensely colored in gorgeous hues and shades of gold, lilac, magenta, ochre, and deep jungle green. The paintings are precise, infinitesimally detailed, and mesmerizing. Silvery parrots and snowy egrets roost in lush trees. A bejeweled maharaja is serenaded by nubile bosomed queens and attendants. Steel gray elephants cavort beneath cobalt-blue rain clouds. Red-faced monkey soldiers wearing garments that look suspiciously like underpants bravely battle to rescue Sita, wife of Rama.

When your eyes tire of soaking in the painstaking yet beautiful detail, take a break in the room filled with photographs of Jodphur's and Rajasthan's rich culture including the people, forts, dancers, pageantry and modern day royalty.

Garden and Cosmos: The Royal Paintings of Jodhpur
Tues.-Sun., Through April 26 at the Seattle Asian Art Museum in Volunteer Park, 1400-E. Prospect St. 654-3100. www.seattleartmuseum.org

Image:
Maharaja Bakhat Singh Rejoices during Holi,
ca. 1748 - 50
Opaque watercolor on paper
Attributed to Nagaur, India
29 x 37"
Mehrangarh Museum Trust, RJS 1986

The Mustard Fields

Some months ago I was looking through one of my many guidebooks on India. In one picture there was a field of flowers with deep green stalks and bright yellow blossoms. It was so beautiful. I hoped that one day I would be in that place.

Last February I was in "that place." The picture was that of mustard fields in bloom in Northern India. As it turned out, I went to visit Keoladeo Ghana National Park, a world renown bird and animal preserve in Bharatpur, Rajasthan, with my friend Regina.

We drove by field after yellow field before stopping. As I walked through the waist-high mustard plants I felt privileged to be there. The driver pulled a few golden blossoms from a stalk and rubbed them on my wrist. It turned slightly yellow and smelled sweet and gentle.

After a day of bird watching we returned to The Bagh, a resort in Bharatpur (http://www.thebagh.com/). To me, it's more like a little slice of heaven. The expansive grounds abound in fruit trees, flowering bushes, and plants that attract a huge variety of birds. Outdoor pavilions are perfect for lounging and bird-watching in the early mornings and evenings. We took advantage of the heated pool and had oily, relaxing Ayurvedic massages.

In the evening we sat in the elegant but homey bar enjoying gin and tonics and chatted about the birds and animals we saw, including a giant python sunning itself. We had worked up an appetite from our hard day of birding, head massages, and drinks and headed for the restaurant.

The food at The Bagh is divine, with specialty dishes of the region. Quite frankly, it is some of the best food I've had in India. We dined on a dishes with five types of dhal, minced lamb, spiced rice with tomatoes and chilies, and my favorite: fresh mustard greens with garlic. I could not have been happier.

Ironing Out the Details

This morning I was hand-washing my unmentionables. I wash my fine lingerie in cold water with a gentle detergent. I rinse the delicate pieces and carefully lay them flat or hang them dry. Taking care of them ensures longevity.

During my first trip to India I was gathering up clothing for the hotel to launder. In the pile was a nice shirt that I typically hand wash. My roommate said, "Oh don't let them do that. They'll ruin it." I thought she sounded like the Ugly American. I have since used that same sentence.

I've seen Indian women at lakes and rivers pounding clothes with rocks and sticks. They wrench and twist them with deft wrists and strong forearms. The clothes take a real beating. Men stand on street corners surrounded by piles of laundry and iron. They use the real deal—heavy irons that are stoked with burning coals.

My laundry comes back very clean and flat. All pleats and ruching are gone. My panties are ironed and folded. Bras too. One T-shirt bra came back with the underwire hopelessly twisted. I threw it away. Now I just send out my jeans and T-shirts for laundering.

A Jewelry Junkie in India

I am a jewelry junkie. And there's nowhere better to be one than in India. The country is a treasure trove of jewelry and gems. Gold and jewels are on billboards and in stores,
adorning residents, depicted on deities, and embedded in buildings. Even animals drip in
jewels. During festivals elephants sport massive jangling anklets and ornate howdahs (riding carriages) studded with gems and precious metal. Horses and camels wear special headdresses covered with stones.

Jewelry is much more than pretty ornamentation in India. It's an integral part of the culture and economy. When babies are born they receive miniature bangles and silver anklets for their tiny wrists and ankles. Families often save up from birth for their daughter's weddings and dowries. (Dowries are technically outlawed but commonly practiced.) Brides are heavily adorned and showered with gifts of jewelry.

During auspicious occasions, holidays, and weddings women wear their finest jewels from gem-studded forehead ornaments to nose rings and earrings so heavy with gold and precious tones that a special support chain is wrapped around the top of the ear and attached to the earring. Like family doctors, most women have a family jeweler, usually the same one as their grandmother.

The Indian appetite for this precious metal is insatiable—and the population spends a considerable portion of their income on gold, especially solid, 18-24 karat gold jewelry which is popular among the masses. Forget stocks and bonds—jewelry is their bank account. One New Delhi business woman told me "Investing in gold jewelry is as good as investing in property." She also said solid gold bangles are considered one of best investments because they're in one piece without any cuts. Jewelry is handed down to daughters. "It's money saved as well for bad days that may come upon us," she said.

By some accounts, 90% of the world's colored stones are cut in Jaipur. Rubies, rose-cut diamonds, tourmaline, blue topaz, smoky quartz, citrine, emeralds, chalcedony, you name it, you'll find it. Gems are everywhere—even in small general stores.

I walked into one wholesale market and the clerk was sorting through piles of polished labradorite cabachons and ringing up Coke and bags of potato chips in between. The window display outside the towel held rolls of toilet paper next to hanks of faceted green amethyst. "Hey honey, don't forget the toilet paper while you're out—and pick ups some gems while you're at it."

A Chicken in My Kitchen

I was out of eggs. I thought about India.

Last year I visited the home of a villager in Central India. I met the family and toured the simple, tidy house painted bright turquoise. When we entered the dark kitchen it took my eyes a minute to adjust. I looked around at the small cooking space, well-used battered pots, rustic utensils and jars of spices.

I suddenly had the sense that someone was looking at me. I turned to find a chicken just to the left of my elbow, its black eyes staring. It sat quietly in its little basket suspended from the ceiling. As my eyes adjusted I saw another chicken nestled in its hanging basket in the corner. Fresh eggs. How convenient.

I wish I had a chicken in my kitchen. I got my car keys and went to the store.

Happy New Year: To New Beginnings and Obliterated Obstacles

I put on my Ganesh necklace this morning in honor of the coming new year. Ganesh is the popular elephant headed god in the Hindu religion. In short, this jovial and big-bellied deity is the god of new beginnings, auspicious occasions, good fortune and the remover of obstacles.

Ganesh is the son of Shiva (the Destroyer) and his consort Parvati. Why does he have the head of an elephant? Because, Shiva was gone meditating in the mountains for a very long time and didn't know Parvati had bore him a son. When Shiva came home, a small boy was guarding the gate and would not let him enter to see Parvati. Shiva became enraged since it was his home and cut off the boy's head. It was Ganesh, Shiva's son. Parvati was understandably stricken when she saw what happened. She demanded Shiva remedy the situation. They prayed to Brahma, the creator. Brahma told Shiva to find the first living being and attach a new head to the boy. A baby elephant was the first thing Shiva ran into. Hence, the new elephant head.

While looking at jewelry in Jaipur I found the most beautiful carved coral Ganesh surrounded by an oval of polki (rose-cut) diamonds. I have never seen anything like it and knew it was meant for me. I didn't hesitate to buy it. A friend told me I should have it blessed before wearing it. Sounded like a good idea to me.

In Jaipur there is a very old Ganesh temple, Garh Ganesh. It's high atop a hill. My friend assured me we could drive up part of it. It was about 90 degrees that day in October. The tuk tuk driver let us off at the base of the stairs. It was still quite a climb. The stone steps were about 18 inches deep. We started the climb.

I saw families with little children walking up, the women in long saris and flip flops. Lone devotees ascended while young boys descended, practically running down the steep steps, sure-footed as mountain goats. Along the way we saw several little green bee-eaters flitting about and perched on skinny branches. They were so close, their little black eyes bright, and iridescent green feathers glinting in the sun. We stopped and watched them for a while.

It took about 30 minutes make the climb. On the way up I built a house. Actually, believers take rocks and make little "houses" out of them in the hopes that their dream home materializes. I built one, not because I want a house, but I liked doing it. At the top of the stairs we were rewarded with a panoramic view of Jaipur.

There were just a few people standing outside the temple selling items to offer Ganesh and use in worship: coconuts, incense, flower garlands. I looked at the silver doors to the temple. It was like looking at the emerald green doors to the Wizard of Oz. It was closed! I was crushed. But wait, it was 3:55pm. It opened at 4pm.

I rang the temple bell upon entering to clear my mind. The giant orange Ganesh was there, decorated with silver, flowers, and other colorful accoutrements. The priest sat before him. He didn't seem all that interested in the few devotees before him. He was much more involved in watching the 6-screen security system above. Sort of like being distracted by television when you're at a bar rather than engaging with your companion.

My friend asked the priest in Hindi to bless my Ganesh necklace. The priest said something in Hindi and put an orange tilak (vermillion paste) on my orange coral Ganesh. The mark was almost indistinguishable. Then he offered the vermillion to me and I used my middle finger to apply the tilak to my third eye. This was the first time this ritual was self-service. My friend explained to me that this was the sanctioned way of application for women. But, "If the priest wants to touch a lady then he will put it." Ah. I gave the priest 200 rupees for his time, blessing, and as an offering to Ganesh. The sun was low in the sky as we walked down the steep steps from the temple.

It's been a couple of months since then. My Ganesh still has traces of the tilak on his forehead. I'm looking forward to a new year full of new beginnings, joy, and successes. May 2009 bring peace, health and happiness to all beings. Om Shanti Om.