Remember the trip we took to Bogra-Jamuna-Somapura Mahavihara /Paharpur a couple of weeks ago? I never got around to putting up the pictures from there.
So in Jamuna other than advising the museum administration that guests at the resort should not be "given breakfast coupons until they have seen the museum" and plans to petition governments in South Asia that citizens should not be given identity cards and passports (I added ration cards too) until they have shown documentary proof that they have visited more than five museums, my mother joined us in a merry little jaunt down the River Jamuna.
|Paisa vasool shot|
|So much colour coordination happening inside the boat. I am sure the cows were dyed to match the lifesavers too|
|Doobtey Suraj ke saath tasveer nahi khenchtey. 10 points if you can identify the film I borrow this line from.|
From Bogra we took a day trip to the Somapura site. The campus at Paharpur dwarfed any of the other Buddhist monasteries I have seen to date. And the green, the green.
And at the base of the structure are the murals that Somapura is famous for. Such a riotous act of fun and whimsy. Leading to my mom quipping (she might share a birthday with Prince Charles--my grandfather insists even the birth hour, but her statement that morning was very Prince Philips) "Not very Buddhist are they"
Oh to be around in those times when you could put your legs behind your neck, balance them on your shoulder, even squat with no one telling you Nahi beta, tangey sambhal kar beythey hain. Cross your legs at the ankles, child.
There is a lovely sarkari rest-house at the site, I wish I had known about that earlier. A day is definitely not enough. Especially as my effort to climb up to the top were thwarted by the toddler carrying tales Look Look My Mama Climb Up Hill Agaiiiinnnnn to my mom each time.
There is also a museum. Photography not allowed. Where you will see Shiva and the rest of the pantheon carved out of black rock.
The gardens are beautiful too. And the gardener has a sense of occasion. Or humour. You decide.
And we shopped. Is par hamari walida ka ek comment peysh hai. "The never ending quest of bringing the village home and taking the city to the village". Commerce, yahi hai teri kahani.
So we got some lovely baskets which store the onions and potatoes in the store, and the toddler's toys in the room.
We also bought this, it is woven from reeds again. You may use it to cover a bowl of fruit from fruit flies as I have done, or food left out saving yourself from the "waiter, there is a fly in my soup" moments. Or to protect a pot of boiling milk from a lizard falling into it--the stuff my childhood nightmares was made of. It could be an urban myth, but all little children of my generation heard of someone being poisoned by a lizard in their glass of Ovaltine. Thankfully, the toddler is growing up thinking all lizards are Rango, Rango, Rango ----which makes for a far healthier childhood I say!
And with this I bid you goodbye.