Sizzling through World Heritage.

Since I am in Delhi I visit the internet almost daily. I like to listen to Bach on You tube and chat with friends on MSN Messenger. It is extremely hot in Delhi, around 11-12 am the heat sends us to cooler places till the late afternoon. When I was in Pune, Anke told me she was quite sick, it didn't get any better and she wanted to go home with her parents. So I took the time to travel between Mumbai and Delhi. I saw the palaces in Mandu and Orchha, the 10.000 year old murals in Bhimbetka, the great Stupa of Sanchi and the breathtaking Khajuraho temples, famous for its sculptures, of which some are pornographic (there is even man fucking a horse... great world heritage!). In Bhopal, which is near to both Sanchi and Bhimbetka, and which has an exceptional high Muslim population (40%) in comparison to other Indian cities, I was roaming through the evening of the buzzing Muslim alleys. Carpenters, vegetable sellers, bakeries and lassi stands; bikes, cycles and clothing shops. Although these alleys are very narrow and filled with moving people (like Old Delhi), I felt very comfortable; shopkeepers were not annoying me in inviting me loudly into their shops, even if I'd not show any interest nor give them a glance. I felt less observed. In that same sense I don't feel comfortable in a restaurant where the waiter will literally 'wait'. He stands facing me after serving the meal, interpreting every upward glance as an order... I want to have the feeling I can eat without someone watching my plate and with the freedom to do the pondering stare while chewing on some delicious eatables :-D. Ofcourse, that feeling is partly in my own hands as well. Anyway, in Bhopal I saw Lucky sitting in one of those alleyshops (Indians with long hair attract the attention), we nodded to each other. 2 mosques and 3 bazaars later he was sitting in a 'sugar cane juice stall' and we introduced ourselves. He is lucky, because he survived the loss of his father, a truck driving over him, a drug-rumor-failed arrangement of an arranged marriage, which he restored by marrying an American lady through an e-romance! He is one lucky chap! Tall, good looks, self-confident and dressed in smart clothing. We had a nice talk, he showed me around a bit on his motorbike and we met again. I planned to go to Khajuraho. He informed a friend of his there about my plan and told him to take good care of me. When I got down in Khajuraho after a long bus ride, I was -as usual- ignoring all the commission boys looking through as if they didn't exist. I took my bags and told Masood on the phone that Lucky's friend had arrived, surrounded by the commission boys who were puzzled by my weird Hindi and stubbornness to ignore all their questions and remarks. One of the young boy's name was Lucky, and he ensured it showing the white of his right forearm where a clumsy 'lucky' was written. The circle followed my to the sidewalk where I sat down, still ignoring their most certain acquaintance with Masood. When he arrived I walked towards him with a broad smile. Masood is a Kashmiri from a Pashmina shawl making family in Srinagar. He is one of the many who open shops in the touristic areas to sell their precious goods. I've always known Muslim, and especially Kashmiris as warm and extremely friendly; qualities which make them excellent sellers. He only arrived in Khajuraho 4 months ago but did a great job fighting for his place on the market. In four months he had more friends than any of the other Pashmina sellers. I was actually ignoring his commission boys at the bus stand. He was hospital, he gave me a bed and food without any further questions, and I had the chance to experience the tourist business from within, it gave me a whole new view. I had a great time there, and the boys were ever optimistic, even though circumstances were not always the best... to give an example: it almost hasn't rained in that region for the last three years. After 5 days between tourists, sculptures and shopkeepers, I left for Delhi together with Masood. He went home after a long time. The love marriage his parents forbid him kept away for years. He doesn't like staying home for too long because the matter will surely spoil the atmosphere. We arrived early in the morning in Delhi, drinking a few teas, pestered by mosquitoes and high-priced rickshaw fares. On his way to the airport I got out of the auto and we parted. Since then I saw some monuments I had not seen on my previous trip (Delhi is packed with great monuments), spent three days looking for a returned parcel i badly needed (luckily I found it; it contained the books for my examinations in September) and watched some bad and good theater. I stay with Noopur, a girl I met via Max last time in Delhi. She had birthday a few days ago and it was a small but great party, I met some great people. Some of them study in the National School of Drama, of which I had met teacher that same day whom I knew from the school in Tamil Nadu, where he had kindly attended the family day. So I'm very happy to be in contact with these people, in this way I get an all-round experience of theater in India (long live generalizations!). Noopur herself works in an art gallery, her roommate Nikhil (a Maharashtrian, as Noopur is) is a designer and Shalini, a Malayali from Trivandrum, will take me to a slum today. I am reading 'Shantaram' (http://www.shantaram.com/), that explains the interest partly. In a few days I will leave for this place: yatharthyogashram.org (Don't open on Mozilla Firefox, the text will not show!).