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Last time I was in India, I had the privilege to visit this wonderful place almost completely alone. No vendors, no one chasing you to buy something. Unfortunately, you could still see people with chained bears they made dance for you so you’d give them money. Now that practice is forbidden, though the Government calculates there are still 60 bears in captivity. But I’m glad this time I didn’t see any.

Fatehpur Sikri is amazing, a standing proof of the beauty of the moghul architecture (even though it had to be abandoned because they forgot a tiny detail: water. There was no water there). So if you visit Agra, the trip to this abandoned city is more than worth it (it’s about 35 km away, which can take about an hour).

It was founded by Akbar on the XVI century, and it’s still stands proud, so well planned (except for the water issue), incredible. The moghuls were conquerors and as such my feelings for them tend not to be too positive, but one cannot come to this place and not be amazed by the incredible attention to detail, the majestuosity, the incredible arts they’d mastered. This red city is standing proof of what a civilization can do.

By the way, nowadays the trip takes a modern road and there are no enslaved bears on sight, as they were last time I was here. That’s because there’s now a law in India forbidding this practice. They think there still are about 60 enslaved bears —they’re forced to dance and performe circus-like acts for tips—, but most of them have found refuge in shelters or have been taken back to the wild. Good for India!

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a rainy day at Fatehpur Sikri

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another proof of the beauty of moghul architecture

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Anup talao, at Fatehpur Sikri

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archs

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Diwan-i-Khas, hall of private audiences

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not the right day to sit

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such a sweet face

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the hallway

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the main pillar at Diwan-i-khas

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this place was built with artistry

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wherever you look, it's beautiful

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women looked outside through here

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And here are my favourite photographs of Orcha, the ones I took and loved the most… I hope you like them.

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who needs wings?

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and again, Orcha Fort

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closing on blue

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crossing

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flickering of shadow and light

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hexagonal family

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holding on

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I don't know that song

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I don't want to be like the rest

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I look great in this light

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I will see you in colour

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I see, I hear, I talk

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if I'm blue you have to be yellow

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keeping up

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mamma, should I be afraid?

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Orcha Fort

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so shinny!

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the game

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the seller

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Waiting

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y la Cheyenne, apa?

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can't get enough colour

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choose your colour

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monkey business at the Fort

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As you know, you can buy a print of any photograph on this entry.

Every image comes in a series of 10 prints in 20 x 24″ format, and 10 prints in 39 x 32″ (100 x 83 cm) format, professionally printed by the best photo lab in México.

Price per 20 x 24″ image: 270 USD + shipping.

Price per 39 x 32″ image: 395 USD + shipping.

Como sabes, puedes comprar una impresión de cualquier fotografía tomada por mí y que aparezca en esta entrada.

Cada fotografía está limitada a una serie de 10 impresiones de 20 x 24 pulgadas, y a diez de 100 x 83 cm. Todas son procesadas por el mejor laboratorio fotográfico de México.

El precio de la foto 20 x 24 es de 270 USD + envío.

El de la foto 100 x 83 cm es de 395 USD + envío.

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Orcha was an unexpected surprise. We arrived there by chance because there was a problem with our train tickets (something that happens often in India), so we had to take a car instead and stopped here. As it turned out, it was fantastic, and since we didn’t have a train to catch, we enjoyed little Orcha at our leissure, finding hidden markets, hidden temples, exotic gardens, running from monkeys…

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And then there were the monkeys. Monkeys everywhere. Some even stole a family’s lunch, which goes to prove that you shouldn’t carry bags in your hand or you risk just that. I had a lot of fun with them, but Crusli and JuanJo suddenly got scared after they stared at one and that one not just stared back, but dared them. He he.

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This little monkey was enjoying time with his mom when his dad came around and he was a bit rough on him, so the little guy couldn’t wait to get back to her tender loving…

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And the teenage monkey from the three photos above spent quite a few minutes daring to go through that tube, but he didn’t go far and just didn’t, looking quite frustrated.

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And then there were the aliens from space, the extraterrestrials. I once attended the conference of this guy who we all knew. When I did, he said that temples in India were proof that aliens from outer space had visited us and our culture came from theirs because the “things” that were on top of Indian domes were actually UFOs taking off to go back to space. I never attended another one of his conferences after such a stupid claim, but we had a blast when we saw these vultures. Since at first we couldn’t quite make up what kind of bird they were, I said they were aliens from space and that was their UFO. We just kept laughing!

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And before we leave Orcha, two more photographs…

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The two signs, when seen together, also made us laugh…

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As you know, you can buy a print of any photograph on this entry.

Every image comes in a series of 10 prints in 20 x 24″ format, and 10 prints in 39 x 32″ (100 x 83 cm) format, professionally printed by the best photo lab in México.

Price per 20 x 24″ image: 270 USD + shipping.

Price per 39 x 32″ image: 395 USD + shipping.

Como sabes, puedes comprar una impresión de cualquier fotografía tomada por mí y que aparezca en esta entrada.

Cada fotografía está limitada a una serie de 10 impresiones de 20 x 24 pulgadas, y a diez de 100 x 83 cm. Todas son procesadas por el mejor laboratorio fotográfico de México.

El precio de la foto 20 x 24 es de 270 USD + envío.

El de la foto 100 x 83 cm es de 395 USD + envío.

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There’s no reason to stop in Jansi. It’s not a pretty city and its fort is unimpressive. There’s nothing to do, nowhere to eat decently, except at the hotel we stayed in and… well, that was an experience that involved roaches and rats.

However, we spent the most wonderful time taking photos of the four of us in this city, making the most of it and laughing at everything. And, I must say, whatever was in the food, it was among the best we ate in India.

Still, I’d recomend you skip Jansi, as beautiful as the word sounds.

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a friend between friends

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a human. Watch out!

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At the train station

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both need protection

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canion at Jansi Fort

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dalmatian

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elephant canion at Jansi fort

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everything moves fast at the train station

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Family portrait... and JuanJo

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Girl in Jansi Fort

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guarding Jansi Fort.

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I see you!

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I'm the king here

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if you please

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Jansi Fort from inside

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look what I found!

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love

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sadhus on a train

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sadhus ready to board

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should I trust you?

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standing happy and proud

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this is THE life

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traditional but modern

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true India

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waiting at the train station

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waiting as life passes by

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women at Jansi Fort

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And now, my favourite photographs of that amazing tiny city that is Khajuraho…

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As you know, you can buy a print of any photograph on this entry.

Every image comes in a series of 10 prints in 20 x 24″ format, and 10 prints in 39 x 32″ (100 x 83 cm) format, professionally printed by the best photo lab in México.

Price per 20 x 24″ image: 270 USD + shipping.

Price per 39 x 32″ image: 395 USD + shipping.

Como sabes, puedes comprar una impresión de cualquier fotografía tomada por mí y que aparezca en esta entrada.

Cada fotografía está limitada a una serie de 10 impresiones de 20 x 24 pulgadas, y a diez de 100 x 83 cm. Todas son procesadas por el mejor laboratorio fotográfico de México.

El precio de la foto 20 x 24 es de 270 USD + envío.

El de la foto 100 x 83 cm es de 395 USD + envío.

But no. In Khajuraho the temples are many, but all very small, and the sculptures look like miniatures. It’s such a delicate and intrincate work you are amazed the moment you see them, even if you’re too far to appreciate the details. And detailed they are. Very. And not only did they grasped all aspects of human sexuality, including philias such as zoophilia, and preference, such as homosexuality, but they also did so with a sense of humor as well as erotism.

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And then there was the Jainist temple…

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And in the end…

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]]> http://www.blog.arysnyder.com/?feed=rss2&p=2624 0 http://www.blog.arysnyder.com/?p=2475 http://www.blog.arysnyder.com/?p=2475#comments Sun, 06 May 2012 18:53:18 +0000 ary http://www.blog.arysnyder.com/?p=2475 It was a couple of weeks after Macavity died when Otto, who was the most beautiful, happy, loving and sweet German Shepperd, lost almost all control of his hind legs. We rushed him to the emergency vet, he underwent a lumbar spine operation but it got complicated with a heart condition. Eventually he not only couldn’t move his hind legs (by then we were in the process of having a wheelchair made for him), but couldn’t pee or poo. His spine was too compromised. For a month after the operation his spirits, stamina, his mood, everything had been as good as always. But one day he couldn’t take it anymore. The vet told us he’d have to have surgery to place a cateter so he could pee, but given his heart condition and recent major surgery, he didn’t think he’d survive. And even if he did, he’d have to have continous surgeries to replace the cateter and he would have constant infections because of that.

As if Otto understood what was being said he drag himself over to me, and with his front leg touched my arm and placed his head on my legs. He moaned and moaned. He was in pain. He looked at me with a scared look, a very scared look, and I could tell he couldn’t take it. Crusli was out of town, but I decided he’d had the most wonderful life and no matter how much I loved him, how much I enjoyed walking and playing with him, this wasn’t fair for him. He shouldn’t suffer, he shouldn’t end his life in pain, waiting for a horrible death. So I told the vet to eutanise him.

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how I love you, Otto!.

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He died in my arms, with me kissing him and telling him how much I loved him, how much Crusli loved him, how much Arturo, his previous owner, loved him, how much we’d miss him, how happy we were he’d been with us for the last 3.5-4 years of his life (he was 12 when he died, but we’d known him since he was a puppy, when Arturo, who moved away, got him), and all this time, while I kept saying this, I showed him the photo of his “brother”, Sombra, a black lab who died two years ago.

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moving moment between Otto and Tao

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I come home, see his bed and I can’t believe he’s not here. I walk now with Tatu and Tao and none of them fetch a stick, but I keep looking for sticks and throwing them because of my memories of happy times with Otto.

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Otto and Pongo. They respected each other

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Tatu is at a loss now. He misses Otto much more than he could ever imagine.

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Otto was a very zen dog. He found pleasure in the smallest things, he enjoyed every moment we were with him, he didn’t engaged in fights when our neighbours’ dogs barked at him but instead looked at them as if he understood they had to let their steam out but he didn’t have to respond. He was ever so patient.

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Otto found a stick to play with

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Otto just jumped up the wall, when his X rays showed he shouldn't be able to move at all.

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Otto taught me it was possible to be happy even after a hard life. He’d lost his brother Sombra three years ago, he lost his previous owner who left him and Sombra with us because the heat of Puerto Vallarta made Sombra very sick.  He made a new family with us because he always, always knew how much we loved him, cherissed him, adored playing with him and he was as much our dog and part of our family as the dogs we already had when he came to live with us.

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Otto the majestic.

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Otto knew when it was time for dinner and didn’t let me be late. He’d bark and bark. He asked to be taken for walks with us and he always raced me to find the first or better stick. He loved fruit and knew how to make it fall off the trees —appricots, plums, apples, pears, capulines, tejocotes—, and some days, he loved staying inside the cabbin rather than out, and he’d hide under the table hoping I wouldn’t notice. I always pretended I hadn’t seen him and let him stay. I knew he’d be happy.

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Otto, Sombra, Tatu and Pongo. Where is Sam?

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Otto's favourite toy, a stick

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So beautiful, so lovely, so strong.

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In the picture below, our sweet Sombra. He was Otto’s “brother” (they both belonged originally to Arturo). Otto liked sticks and Sombra liked balls. They were both very good at catching them and they loved playing with them. We still miss you very much, Sombra.

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Sweet Sombra. Ever so gentle

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the brothers playing

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a walk in the woods with Otto and Tao

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Thank you, Otto, for sharing your life with ours.

I couldn’t let you suffer because I loved you so much. I would’ve loved to spend more time with you, but not if that implied that you had to live in pain. You were way too loved for that, no matter how much it hurts that you’re no longer with us, and no matter how much I long for you and wish you were here.

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the most beautiful german shepperd

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I will always love you, Otto, and you’ll be in my heart forever.

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I didn’t plan to keep him. But he chose me and won my heart in an hour. And we lived happily together for 17 years and eight months.

He died last March.

And I can’t get over it.

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How could I? He was with me when I bought my first new car, my first and only flat (which I’ve since sold at a huge loss and now I don’t own anything), met Crusli —the person I’m still in love with after almost 16 years— , completed five ideas for new magazines and one was produced by the company I now work for, completed three novels —none published—, started another three —still working on them— and the project of a series of books for kids to care for the Earth —and all three books have been printed—. He was with me when Crusli and I moved in together, when I won a short-story contest and during four of my photographic exhibitions.

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I try to find ways —words— to remark how amazing Macavity was and I come up short. No matter how I start, I don’t want anyone who reads this to stop doing so out of boredom, without grasping why he was so marvelous a cat.

He could count up to three. Really. Whenever he felt like it, before I left for work, he’d come downstairs, got on the table and ask for treats —just like  the dogs—. But I had to give him exactly three while they only got one each. Not more and no less. If I messed the number, he’d get upset, turn around and walk away. I guess that as he was going upstairs he was thinking: “I can’t believe that after all these years she hasn’t learned how to count to three!”.

Perhaps you believe I’m making this up or missinterpreted his actions. But plenty of times I gave him two or four or five treats on purpose just to test him, and all those time I got the same reaction: he’d look at me, turn and walk away. They had to be three.

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He also knew how to fetch. I’d throw him a rubber band and he’d bring it back. And he knew I’d arrived from work maybe even before the dogs did. He’d be waiting on the table and he’d go belly up so I’d scratch his tummy the moment he saw me walk in.

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I named him Macavity after T.S. Elliot’s poems because he was a ginger cat, but he didn’t have anything else in common with the literary Macavity. I often called him Mac.

My friends say I’d raised him as a dog because I’d never had a cat before, and that’s why he was so dog-like. I’m not so sure he’d agree, but…

…he loved sleeping with his head on my pillow, between Crusli and me, or with me hugging him…

…he’d start kissing me the moment he heard my alarm clock go off —I’m sure he knew how difficult it is for me to get out of bed…

…he adored being petted and hugged and kissed, and no time was ever enough. He never, not once, had enough —as they say cats do—…

…he had a sense for when Crusli and I were going to get intimate and he’d leave the bed to us. But he came back the moment the last moan was moaned and the last whisper whispered…

…he hated leaving the house. If we take him out for a little sunshine he’d scream as if we were slowly killing him with a sharp knife…

…he’d get excited when hummingbirds came to their feeder, outside the dinning room window, but even when they flew inside the house, he never made any attempt to catch them. Not even once…

…he’d catch moths, though.

He knew when I was sad and he always came to kiss me, and got to make me smile…

…he’d always talk to me. As long as I asked questions, he’d always reply. I once did it for 50 minutes straight. I tired before he did. So we had long conversations about my day, politics, philosophy, art, the dogs, his dreams, his day, quantum mechanics, music or films, both in the mornings and at night…

…he never paid attention to the telly except for “Meerkat Mannor”. He’d sit through the hole 30 minutes of the show paying close attention to it, except during commercial brakes. We even called it “Macavity’s show” or “Macavity’s TV time”…

…When he was less than a year old, he had a small toy fish. It was fluffy. He’d put him on the pillow under the blankets, as if the fish was cold, and sometimes he also put him on his food bowl. He never put him on his water bowl. I guess he thought that being his, the fish wouldn’t want like to be in the water either. He had that fish for maybe eight years. One day it got lost. He never liked another toy that much…

…He looooooved the Sun. The Sun comes into our cabbin only for brief periods a day, but he always knew when and he’d go catch it…

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…he’d wait for the dogs to finish eating at night and then ran past them to climb up the table. They’d try to catch him and couldn’t. He looked at them as if thinking “what a bunch of mentally retarded overgrown cats!”. They did catch him twice —once it was Sam and once Tatu—. Both times he came upstaires with a fece of absolute disgust because they’d kiss him and kiss him, so he was licked all over…

…he liked sleeping on my left arm better than on my right arm, and if he were here, his head would be on my shoulder, with his body within mine and my left arm…

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…he looooved money, or rather, he loved it when we threw a bunch of bills on the bed and he’d mess them all, almost skating on them until all had fallen to the floor…

…and he also love black olives. He’d go nuts and lie on top of them, and toss them around, and try to get their scent on him, and bite them but he never ate even a tiny bit of them…

…he was a very well-read cat. Over the years we shared together, he read almost all the books I read with me…

…he liked kissing me on the nose or on the chin. But he liked kissing Crusli on her eyebrows or forehead. She used to say he was giving her a exfoliation treatment…

…he’d fall asleep with Crusli but wake up with me…

…he’d kiss her at night, but not in the morning…

…he wouldn’t talk to us if we went away for the weekend or a holiday. No matter how much we tried to make him kiss us, petted him, talked to him or called him, he wouldn’t reply and always turned his head. Eventually he’d bite us —lightly—, run away, and after about half an hour he’d come back and forgave us. Every time…

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…he knew when I was about to travel (I have to, because of my job) and he’d always try to get whatever I was putting in my suitcase out…

…Crusli was always completely amazed and perplexed at how well I understood him. It was as if he had a rudimentary language. I could tell —and I was never wrong because he was very clear and his miaous were very different— when he had little water in his water bowl, when he had little food in his food bowl, when he had no food at all, when Crusli had came home but hadn’t gone upstairs to say hi to him, when she had gone upstairs but hadn’t paid him much attention (his complaint was different), when she’d left one of the dogs in the house (during the past three years, he didn’t like this), when he wanted to play… He could vocalize a lot and I understood. I knew what he was saying.

…he wasn’t jelous of the dogs but he couldn’t stand my programable Wall-E. The second time I played with him he got very angry, came upstairs and peed in my gym bag. I never played with Wall-E after that. And I haven’t still. I respect Mac’s wishes too much for that.

…he saved my life countless times. Every time I thought I’d built a wall around me so tall and thick I couldn’t feel anything for anyone, all I had to do was to think of him to know that yes, I could love because I loved him so…

…he shared every moment of his life with me, and then also with Crusli, and he enriched our lives in so many different ways I can’t bear his not being here anymore…

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…he won my heart the day after I found him. I’d forgotten he was in my flat and got the paper and coffee and was lying on the sofa reading it when he climbed up, lay on my tummy and fell fast asleep, breathing in sync with me. After a while I was dying to go to the restroom but for an hour I didn’t dare move because I didn’t want to wake him up. He looked so adorable! And it was so evident to me he’d given me all his trust. After that, I never thought of finding him a home with a cat-person. I was his person and he was my cat. We belonged to each other. And we still do, because much of my heart is with him and he’s always in my mind, and I am my mind…

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…I’m sure that ever since he was little, he recognized the beat of my heart. That’s why he liked my left side better and that’s why our breathing was always in tune when we were falling asleep…

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…About five years ago he lost 75% of his kidneys. The vet told us he’d live only a few months, maybe. He felt so sick he stopped talking completely, no matter how hard I tried. So I stopped talking too. I stopped seeing my friends, I stopped going out, I stopped doing many of the things I did, I wanted to die with him. Maybe that’s why he didn’t die. Eventually he started talking to me again and I started talking to people again, and perhaps he only died now because he thought I could handle it, and I don’t want to let him down…

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I treassure every moment spent with him, every memory of him, every image of him, every photo of him, every hair of his I still find on my clothes, every mark he left, every toy he had and when it’s cold and I watch TV, I cover myself using his Wall-E blanket.

But most of all, I treassure that such an incredible, loving and amazing being came into my life, touched it, changed it, made me happy and shared his life with mine.

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The photo above is the last one I took of him. He’s holding his toy cat —which he never liked as much as his fish.

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I will always love you, Macavity. And thank you for sharing your life with me.

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