THE GREEN DIARY : Pushkar – The Perfect Turd

It is December 2011. We are in India for six weeks:

Pushkar with the Brahma Ghat – The Tears of Buddha

Tony and I are visiting Pushkar the Temple Town near Ajmer in Rajasthan.

We are travelling with our dear friend the Booker Prize-winning author and Indophile Damon Galgut who knows the country extremely well and has travelled in it with us before.

We have put up, as a treat since Damon is on an impossible budget, at the Inn Seventh Heaven a rather lovely Haveli in Chotti Basti fairly near the town centre.

Pushkar is a holy place. The Brahma Ghat is here. According to the legend, a demon called Vajra Nabha killed off Lord Brahma’s children. In an act of rage and revenge, Brahma slew Vajra Nabha with a lotus flower. The petals from the lotus fell onto the earth to give rise to the Pushkar lake.

These are the tears of Buddha. 

We are here for a few days.

I tell this story as an illustration of the extraordinary difference our cultures have when it comes to hygiene and bodily functions. Personally I could never get used to the filth in India.

One morning we are on the Main Market Road exploring; we walk on as far as the turn-off to the Kharekhari Road where the town has gradually given way to countryside. It is a well made road of piste and there are grass verges.

There are three ladies walking in front of us talking nineteen to the dozen. They are dressed in colourful saris and have been in town. There is no one else in the vicinity. Unusually in a country as crowded as India.

I have named them Akanksha, Poomina and Laila:


“मुझे खेद है लेकिन वे सब्जियाँ सड़ी हुई थीं। विशी के लिए इतना ख़राब विकल्प होना सामान्य बात नहीं है”, said Poomina.
 
Laila replied, “ मैं पूरी तरह सहमत हूं. और मैं वहां दोबारा खरीदारी नहीं कर रहा हूं।“
 
“ लेकिन मुझे आज बाज़ार में नई शॉलें अच्छी लगीं। सुंदर,” said Akanksha and then added, “ मुझे बस एक त्वरित बकवास के लिए कगार पर कदम रखने की जरूरत है, क्षमा करें! “

At this point, without drawing breath she stepped onto the verge, lifted her sari, squatted and laid almost in front of us the biggest turd you ever saw; the others paused; then she stood up, dropped her sari and the ladies continued on their chattering way.

“Twice around the pan and pointed at both ends” as an English doctor once said to me in a cutglass, Sloaney accent, giving a graphic description of, in his view, the perfect turd.

I couldn’t resist this extract from a piece I wrote years ago, I think on our second visit to India!

…….We have survived Calcutta; and Varanasi, Lucknow, Agra, Jaipur and Pushkar; and all the trains, buses and lying, cheating taxi drivers in between.Not to mention the filth, the faeces both human and animal; the dirt,the rubbish, the plastic bags and bottles, mud, corruption; and the pollution from car and dung fire alike; the bar-b-que’d, oleagenous stink and haze from the endless burning Ghats which operate 24/7 round the year. Choking, sickening. APPALLING. The unnecessary poverty and merciless caste system – everywhere millions and millions of clamouring, hungry, tired people whose only imperative is to survive.

Among this heaving horror of filth and stench we encountered jewels of perfection faintly dotting the darkness of India’s crisis: beautiful architecture, art and poetry. The matchless Imumbara’s of the Lucknow Ouds; the great Moghal artistry in Fahtpur Sikiri and Agra; the delicate traceries of the Rajputs in the Amber Fort and the Palace of Wind, the holy city of Pushkar and many more. With the “Tear on the Face of Eternity”, the Taj Mahal ranking as one of the greatest pieces of art I have ever seen or been moved by and almost toppling Petra in shear beauty and extravagance…….

At the time I never wanted to return to India but they say it’s like childbirth! You forget the pain….and go again!  And so it will probably be though under the current circumstances, who knows when!

But here is perfection!

7 Replies to “THE GREEN DIARY : Pushkar – The Perfect Turd”

  1. Pete – as usual a gem of a piece. Only quibble – haven’t you spelt piste wrong? Replace the t with an s?

    I agree with you about the extraordinary pull of India – we might as well at our ages just check into the Hotel Marigold and never leave.

  2. Dearest Peter,
    All I can say is you’d have to pay me a great deal of money to go on a trip such as the one you describe here. I have never been attracted to Indian food, Indian music o Indian literature, but I have enjoyed some of the films of Satyajit Ray. That’s about it. My bad, I know. But nothing about India appeals to me.

    Off to Cape Town for 10 days next Thursday. Much more my style.

    Health-wise hope all is well with both of you.
    Sending love and enjoy your stay. And say hello to Damon for me. He came to my cottage several years ago and I haven’t seen him since.

  3. Love to Damon. And both of you.
    I once had a regression and the woman said
    “I do hope you don’t go to Indus …” xx

  4. we all have to ablute!! In South Africa we often see people peeing by the roadside, and once in a shopping centre car park I saw a woman deposit an absolute fountain of pee right in front of me. She was desperate, a feeling I personally understand! I remember a few years ago when the Springboks were playing rugby in OZ, while exercising in a school playground, a team member was seen peeing behind a tree by an Australian journalist. It made front page news in Australian. Really – have they nothing more serious to report about in that dreary country?

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