Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Cricket And Porn

Almost the whole world over the game of choice for young boys is football, but not so here on the Subcontinent where cricket is king. In back alleyways, in public parks and on sandy beaches one will always find boys with ancient, chipped bats and makeshift wickets. Whilst ambling through old Bhubaneswar on the lookout for temples (there are about 50 gorgeous, old temples in just a square mile) I spotted just such a group of youths. Despite my protestations of being absolutely hopeless and not having played in donkey's years they insisted that I play with them. I eventually gave in and made an OK show of batting, but when it came to bowling it was another matter. My first attempt was well wide and my second was so soft that the batter sent it straight back at me. I took the old fielding adage of "keeping my eye on the ball" a bit too literally as it caught me smack on my left eye. Luckily I wear specs and so the only damage done was to my ego. Still, it has reinforced my view of cricket as the devil's sport.

Orissa is not just home to cricket hooligans though. It is also home to a large number of India's tribal people who, in this land of class and caste division, are well and truly at the bottom of the heap. The local Indians don't fare too well either, as the abject poverty that is evident throughout the country is pervasive here. Nevertheless Orissa is rich in beautiful temples, of which two deserve a special mention.

The beach town of Puri is home to Sri Jagganath mandir. The temple is the residence of Lord Jagganath, as well as his brother Baladeva and sister Subhadra. Lord Jagganath is supposed to be the lord of the universe, but it is hard to take him and his siblings seriously, as they look like cartoon clowns (if I'm not mistaken he's the one on the right of the picture below). There is, however, nothing comical about the Rath Yatra, or car festival. Once a year Jagganath and Co. are taken out of their temple abode, placed in chariots and wheeled over to a temple on the other side of town for a week-long holiday before being wheeled back. It might not seem particularly noteworthy, until you see the chariots that is. They are well over 15m tall, each of their many wheels are easily 2.5m in diameter and it takes well over a thousand men to pull each one. Traditionally fervent devotees used to throw themselves in front of the wheels so that they could be martyred by their god, thereby giving us the word juggernaut, and an apt one it is. Perhaps even more fascinating about the temple is the whole economy that surrounds it. It is thought that up to 20,000 people are employed by the temple to carry out the myriad devotional offerings and sacrifices required by the demanding god every day. It seems particularly wasteful to me that so much money can be found to spend to dote on some wooden statues when such large segments of the population are desperately poor, have no access to safe drinking water and even less to decent schooling.



About 30km further along the beach is Orissa's pride and joy. If the Taj Mahal is the pinnacle of Islamic architecture in India, then the Sun Temple at Konark is the same for Hindu architecture. The massive structure stands some 35m high, though the old temple tower was previously over twice that, though due to the combined effects of neglect and nature (the region is regularly battered by cyclones) it fell down over a hundred years ago. In spite of its reduction in size its grandeur remains. And not only does it impress with its sheer scale, but also with its delicate carvings, many of which are rather graphic to say the least. In fact our guide seemed rather embarrassed talking about them and would always drop his voice to a whisper and try and hurry through as quickly as possible: "And over there we have ... ahem ... twoladiesandaman." And that's just one of the tamer scenes. Suffice to say that Orissan women 750 years ago were very supple and not particularly prudish (unlike today); or it could be that the male carvers had rather vivid imaginations in the long periods of time they had to stay away from their families. Whatever the reason, my camera certainly got a thorough workout on the statuary smut!

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