Mischievous Moments in Madhya Pradesh

The other day at the gate to the Ken River Canyon we were met by two gents looking for some rupees. One of them was selling bracelets and necklaces hanging from a stout stick and the other was saying “I’m blind, yes? 10 rupees please.” They each took a turn working a Jeep, switching, and rotating back and forth. Eventually the blind man got the rhythm wrong and came over while the necklace seller was still trying to work us. The blind man was standing at the front window starting his patter again...blind...yes?...10 rupees please...and the necklace man sidled up to him with his big stick of necklaces and slowly, slowly worked his big stick into the blind man’s ear and pressed....

Just then our guide and driver appeared and the blind man was spared from also becoming the deaf man.

We were taking our rickshaws down through Orchha town and suddenly before us there was...a flock...a sweep...a dangle(?)...of Jain monks walking down the street. For anyone not familiar with the Jain priesthood, these guys were starkers. Barefoot, bald and bare bummed, around a dozen of them were walking along carrying only their peacock dusters. That is not a euphemism. They use a peacock feather fan to dust before sitting to avoid sitting on any microscopic life forms. I’ve previously seen one or two on nude walkabout at a time but this was impressive. And they were impressive. The ladies in our group almost sprained their necks to get a glimpse as we passed in front of them. Real religious types, our group.

Had a lovely picnic on the ground outside an ancient Jain temple complex near Chanderi. After our lunch of dal and roasted eggplant and chapattis cooked in dung coals, we visited an active Hindu temple. Our guide, Khalley Bai, knew the sadhu who lived there and introduced us, but my eye was drawn elsewhere. In front of the Sadhu’s shelter was a row of marijuana plants and one of these suckers had hugemungous glittery buds. KB is a proper abstemious Muslim man so I had to explain why these plants were so amazing. I leaned in close to the prize plant to show him the shiny and suddenly the Sadhu flew out of his shelter. My group jumped back thinking I was going to get in shit for getting too familiar with his plant, but the Sadhu exclaimed, “Ganga! Ganga!”, and pointed very proudly. He was clearly pleased that some foreigner recognized his sacred plant. KB translated for me as the Sadhu explained he liked to smoke it in a pipe, then he reached for a red pouch and produced a massive stash of dried bud. I suspect that if KB and a large group of foreigners weren’t standing there he would have offered to smoke me up. I’m not a partaker of the weed but I would never have passed up an opportunity to share a sacred doobie with a Sadhu.