first of all, let me say that i have NOT dropped off the face of the earth, rather i've been sucked into it's very core and have refused to come out for the past few weeks. even writing these entries implies that i DO have a life elsewhere, and i just don't want to remind myself how soon i have to leave the new life i've discovered in india- a life of rickshaws and benzes, of 2 rupee chai and 700 rupee cocktails- a life that goes everywhere, does everything, and lives to tell about it.
most recently, my travels took me (on a ciee organized trip) to aurangabad in maharhastra. the four days we spent there were pretty laid-back, quite tame, a little stagnant even. the highlights were the ajanta and ellora caves, another trip to the cinema to see rang de basanti, and room service.
here is a small section of the ajanta cave temples, carved into a horsehoe shaped cliff 76 meters above the ground by buddhist monks beginning in the 2nd c. bce. besides the obvious serenity and the incredible feat of carving 30 temples into a single slab of stone, ajanta is famous for the beautiful paintings decorating the walls of these temples. the rocks were plastered and then painted after the plaster dried- so not quite a fresco. did you know that these monks had the concept of perspective down way before the renaissance? oh yeah, they sure did. it was hard to get good pictures of the best art because flash wasn't allowed, but this might give you an idea of the aesthetic:
apparently ajanta was abandoned when the buddhist movement in india went east, and re-discoverd in the 1800s by some high capacity british dude while he was tiger hunting. can you imagine following a tiger through the bush and stumbling upon something like this?
<---a distant relative of ajanta's architects? we also visited the ellora cave temples, which are not only buddhist but jain and hindu as well. though they lack the decorative painting of ajanta, they are somehow much more impressive. one of the hindu temples at ellora is the world's biggest monolith, and as i walked through it's multi-leveled corridors and rooms, i was unable to fathom how it could all be part of the same rock. i thought the david was impressive, but this...

we also saw the 'poor man's taj mahal,' built by shah jahan's grandson in honor of his mother rather than his beloved. if you were to see this without having seen the taj mahal, you would find it splendid, but after having seen the real deal this one was just an imposter.

the next time i'm in maharasthra, i'll be moving at a much faster pace. a few of the girls and i are planning a trip for mumbai-you know, that one that used to be bombay, home of bollywood and just about the biggest deal in india- for the end of next week. we have no classes the week before finals-what a perfect time to go on vacation! (ha). i can't believe that when i get back from mumbai i'll have only a week left in hyderabad. i often get scared by how my life passes quicker and quicker each year-i'm almost through my 21st year, and half of it has been spent outside the homeland. sometimes i almost wish i never traveled, it would be so much easier to never have to say goodbye- but i'll spare you that rant and take the i'm-so-incredibly-lucky tangent. i'm so incredibly lucky. last night i took a cab to the airport with my friend ashley who is going home for two weeks, only to return for the summer just before i leave. coming home alone in the old ambassador at four in the morning i was looking out the window and was suddenly struck by how normal everything has become- i know the roads, know that you have to turn left at such and such a pan shop, that this shortcut is less brutally bumpy than that shortcut; cows in the middle of the road are normal, so are sleeping people, so is the absence of stoplights and stopsigns. i mean, of course these things are normal, but they aren't surprising to me anymore and haven't been for a long time now, they just roll on by with the scenery. and yet... today i was taking a rickshaw home from mocha-our favorite chic little coffee lounge- in the late afternoon. we took my favorite road back from banjara hills, a road that rides a ridge high above the rest of the city. golconda fort and the sprawling, endless developments that have sprung up on all sides of it looked different in the late afternoon sun, and suddenly everything looked different- or rather, i began seeing things i had never seen despite driving the road a million times. i don't know which i find more comfort in- the familiarity of this city or the fact that nothing is ever completely familiar.