The Lazy Cherub Enigma: Octopussy is Dead

September 27, 2015

Octopussy is dead. I never thought the day would come. Ever since the movie came out, it had become synonymous with Udaipur. You could not walk any street without a placard boldly exclaiming “OCTOPUSSY FILMED HERE.” Every restaurant in town had Octopussy showings. Udaipur the first time we visited was simply “That cool place in the James Bond movie.” It was also where I bought a ridiculously over priced shawl and Ken bought an elephant carving from a 10-year-old boy living under a bridge. To this day I have never worn that shawl but the rudimentary elephant with its uneven bottom and pinhole eyes still has a place of pride on our mantel. As always, India has a way with making you do things you regret later but remember fondly. Things like booking a trip when it’s still hot as hell and monsoon season…

Udaipur is considered “the most romantic spot in all of India” and it certainly exudes charm. Situated on the banks of Lake Pichola with the colorful Aravalli Hills in all directions, the city is made for amorous roof top dinners and sentimental sunrise swims. Over the years, the ex royal family has seriously promoted Udaipur as a must-do destination and – for better or worse – they have succeeded. The Octopussy reference has long since disappeared, as have the quiet streets and non-existent tourist hassle. Today Udaipur is cosmopolitan with a healthy dose of kitsch. The streets are far more crowded but still well worth meandering. Along with your usual plethora of cheap harem pants, scarfs and handbags, one can also find modern art galleries and world class tailors (Judy Dench and the entire cast of the Marigold Hotel movies had all their clothes made here!) I seriously considered purchasing “Banshi Villa” at Lokesh Shoni’s studio because who doesn’t need a penis-faced Indian Banshee on their wall? His simplistic style with subtle erotic undertones is what I would expect from Picasso if he had spent a year in Udaipur shacked up with a Rajasthan beauty. It is a purchase I am confident I am going to regret not doing.

There are a few good coffee shops in town one of which is Café Edelweiss serving all organic locally sourced food. By far the selling point for us was being able to sit on the covered veranda surfing the Internet while the rains poured down. The streets became rivers and the eaves became waterfalls. Life blissfully went on and even laughed a little because the scorching heat was now abated. If I have learned anything this far it has been that heat brings out the worst in people and does precious little to enhance motivation. Give me rain and the City Palace any day!

Later that evening we attended a “cultural performance” at Dharohar. I have to admit, I had extremely low expectations for this. We still remember the ubiquitous puppet show and drumming duos that appeared every night at dinner during our last foray into Rajasthan. We also remember asking how much we needed to tip for them NOT to perform. So when our guide said this event was part of the package we really were expecting an hour of drunken marionette handlers and small boys banging drums in a deafening fury. Much to our surprise this show was the polar opposite. Ok – the drag queen riding a teen-age boy painted up like a tiger was bizarre but everything after that was amazing! We had women in traditional costume dance with bowls of fire on their heads, dancing on “glass”, the highly coordinated “sitting dance” and the most amazing puppet master ever! This particular show is a family affair – the dancers (women) ranged from 12 years to 72 years and ALL of them were killing it on the dance floor. Extremely fun times and the music was good too – no child slavery drummers.

Next stop: Bundi.

I am not entirely sure why Bundi was on the itinerary. Our guide sold it as “a very interesting place with temples that has hardly any tourists.” Once we arrived it became apparent why. Bundi itself is pretty much in the middle of nowhere, which, in a desert region, isn’t exactly the best thing for social development. It’s a bit of a wild west where law and order is left up to the locals and is not to be trifled with. The morning we were to tour the temples all the shops and houses were in lock down mode. The night before someone had defiled a Ganesh statue and the local male population was on the hunt. Gangs of angry men paraded up and down the streets screaming for vigilante justice. Our guide just kept telling us to “stick close together and avoid getting into a discussion with them.” Somehow I don’t thing discourse was high on their list of priorities. It was unbelievably hot and we had no water because you know – everything is bolted shut for the impending Ganesh lynching. Just when I thought it could not get any more unsettling we passed by a row of child dentists – as in CHILDREN who perform dentistry right there on the street. Dentistry is a loose term – I’m talking tooth extraction using plyers and opium injections followed by wiring up some form of bad theatrical dental bridge using a box full of what I hope were “fake” teeth.

But you do need to come to Bundi. Aside from being a break from what would be a 20 hr. train ride to Mumbai, Bundi is indeed beguiling. With narrow lanes, Brahmin blue houses and a picturesque lake, Bundi is dominated by the whimsical ancient palace that seemingly sprouts right out of the hillside. “The work of goblins rather than men,” the Bundi palace is an enormous fortification that is in the throes of being reclaimed by nature. Lack of funds and people make it a fantastical fairyland of bat-filled foyers and faded royal murals. Kipling envisaged his final draft of “Kim” while staying in the Sukh Mahal and he marveled at how many indiscriminate temples coalesced with the local shops and homes. It was as if to say “We were here first but feel free to share space with us. We won’t be disappearing any time soon!” There are also some 60 “baoris” (step wells) within town although most no longer hold water and merely act as giant garbage receptacles. Still, there are a few maintained for use and a trip down history lane. After all of this you can eat on the rooftop of the Rainbow Café. Service is slow but the view is outstanding. Plus where else are you going to eat lunch with a loaded 22 beside you “just in case” the monkeys get a little too tempestuous? Hmmmmm…. I think I may have solved the Ganesh crime.