Mo Rants Wid Mad Indian Flava: India Log V2
Ok, back at it now. It’s noon on Sunday the 22nd. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do here. I’m not even done describing Friday and yet now have all of Saturday to write about which includes my trip to Agra to check out the Taj Mahal, the handicrafts of the people there (stone inlayed marble), and on the way back, the Hindu temple and birthplace of Krisna in Manthura. I’ll get to all of that later on. Yesterday was so intense that I’ve actually had to refer back to my pics from Friday just to refresh my memory. I’m glad I’m taking the time to write about all of this now because it’s doubtful I’d remember the finer points in even 1 months time. I kind of like this journal writing thing. I’ve kept journals for very short periods of time at various points in my life but they’re scattered about in various composition books that aren’t organized an any way. Digitizing this information is the way to go but I don’t trust MySpace so I’ve started keeping this stuff in text files on my harddrive in folders which I have scheduled backups of. I need to back up my pictures as well….as they are kept on a server I don’t maintain. I really appreciate my buddy Rance for hooking up the djsnack.com and gallery.djsnack.com servers. They have proved invaluable for proliferating my random thoughts and pictures accross the known world, muahahahaha!!! 
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Just a few words about Humaylan’s tomb. This monument is the precursor to the Taj Mahal. It was constructed in umm…..well, let’s say a long time ago. If you really want to know, I’ve endeavored to snap pics of the brass textual descriptions of the places I’ve been whilst here. It’s really big and is actually part of a larger complex containing courtyeards, smaller tombs…mosque-like buildings and so on. This mass of ruins was particularly cool because you could climb all over them. There were lots of places to ascend steps and get on top of the enclosing walls and such. I felt like some sort of tomb raider going into these places and I’ll be damned if I didn’t twist my ankle. It took me a full day before I even realized that I had injured myself. I was once again reminded how delicate the ankle is. In my hapkido class we’re taught how to break the ankle and what positions are most comprimising in terms of ankle breakage. For example, if you’re ever kicked, one way of taking someone out permanently is to simultaneously grab their leg and step into them and follow that up with a swift downward stomp on the ankle. It breaks after a miniscule amount of pressure. Ouch! You then follow up by either running like hell or telling them how foolish it was to attack you….depending on the threat level and how much of a jerk you are, of course .
I was feeling quite tired after my tomb exploits but opted to stop in on a department store since it was on the way back to the hotel. This was a 3-level complex with lots of really cool, overpriced stuff. I did get a chance to chat with one of the employees who was from Cashmire for a bit. He really liked my camera. I really liked his duvee covers. If I hadn’t have already bought the rugs I would have picked one up. They ranged in price from $200 - $1000….very kewl, decidedly Indian stuff. I also checked out a few really neat braclets and necklaces. I kept myself entertained by examining the most costly items and repeatedly informing the proprietor that I was shopping for my cat. “I have the most beatuful cats…”, I’d say, “….this saphire, diamond, and ruby piece would really bring out the color in their eyes. Do you have anything more spectacular than this? My cats deserve only the finest precious stones.” I swear man, I could hardly contain myself. I actually AM sort of shopping for my cat, but I want the fake stuff for them. I just can’t justify spending 100’s of dollars on them when they’ll look just as pretty in the $20 version. I must say that I do miss my cats…even after only one week. The look in their eyes when they jump on me and exclaim, “Meow.”. “Meow to you!”, I reply. Sometimes I solicit the meow by meow’ing first. More times than not they meow right back as if to say, “I love you Chris…you feed us and pet us and let us sleep in your crotch.” Ok, that’s enough of that. I left the store and went back to the hotel to catch an alhocol buzz and get ready for the day trip to Agra. I was out cold after downing 3 Kingfisher beers in rapid succession. Kingfisher is like the Budweiser of India…only much more tasty. I picked up a case of the “Strong” variety when I first got here knowing full well this was the most frugal option for me. It’s really funny though….Bud is ‘The King of Beers’….Kingfisher is ‘The King of Good Times’….very funny stuff.