India (1960s)

The fabulous road to India, sought over the centuries by many explorers, including Columbus, is within easy reach now by Air France planes. Calcutta is the youngest and most dynamic of the great Indian cities. You can fly there in a few restful and pleasant hours. Here is the smartest street in Calcutta, Chowringhee, where you'll find the great hotels, the memorial to Queen Victoria, the green stretches of Maidan Park and its Garden of Eden. Beyond it flows the Huli, formed by the meeting of the three branches of the Ganges. Because of the Huli, Calcutta on the Bay of Bengal is one of the Indian Ocean's great ports. Its annual traffic amounts to more than nine million tons. Further on, you'll see the impressive Howrah Bridge spanning the river. And as is the case everywhere in India today, the most ancient traditions live on side by side with the latest examples of modern industrial techniques. Here you'll see men scooping up the river mud into huge baskets. This mud will be carried to an old quarter of the town where a throng of artisans employ it to mold religious statues. Was not man first fashioned by God from the clay of the earth? The process of making the statues is a very interesting one. First, the mud is spread over bunches of straw shaped into form with strips of canvas. Then the rough mold dries slowly in the sun as the statues gradually assume the form of a god or a goddess. Later, one night, by the light of torches, the statues will be dipped in the river while a religious ceremony takes place. From the Ganges ye came and to the Ganges ye must return. The Indians are very proud that Buddha was born in their land. It was here in Bodh Gaya, under this very tree, that a vision from above came to him. A temple has been erected to commemorate the event. And a colossal tower was erected in Sarnath, the place where Buddha preached his first sermon. He revealed the cause of human suffering and the way in which it could be overcome. His apostolate began here with the wheel of the law. Nearby is holy Benares, which shines resplendent with celestial light. The symbol of Benares is a temple, the most appropriate place to begin a visit of the city. This sanctuary is dedicated to Durga, wife of Shiva. Tame monkeys, impudent as can be, watch us on the lookout for a dainty morsel. Let us explore the narrow alleys of the old city where the walls of the houses are decorated with curious, naive paintings in gaudy hues. A colorful crowd throngs into the squares leading to the river. Some people go to see the barber. Others to buy garlands of flowers which they will wear during prayers and religious ceremonies. Still others to search for souvenirs. Merchants and pilgrims, sadhus and beggars, pandits and priests mingle in the streets. These monumental staircases leading down to the river are called ghats. According to custom, pilgrims must render homage to the Ganges and purify themselves in its waters before attending the temple ceremonies. The ghats are thronged with a multitude of fervent worshippers, a multitude constantly renewed. The Hindu holy books teach us that in ancient days the gods, seeing that man had multiplied on earth, decided to relinquish the use of the river Ganges to its human inhabitants. The river flows from heaven along the body of the god Shiva who sacrificed a thousand years of his life to retain the river in the Himalayas. The river acquired its sacred character, its power for doing good, from its close connection with the god Shiva. Pilgrims from every walk of life, pilgrims of every age flock to the Ganges to benefit from its extraordinary virtues. There are sadhus or holy men living on alms, young fiancés starting a new life together, old women meditating on the life after life. All along the river's great curve stands one ghat after another, the Tulsi Ghat where lives the poet Tulsidas. The Harishandra Ghat, the Manikarnika Ghat where Parvati, the wife of Shiva, lost her earrings, so legend relates. Parvati is another name for the goddess Kali, wife of Shiva. Another name still is Durga, to whom a sanctuary in Benares is dedicated. After the sacred bath, the Indians rest in family groups protected from the sun by parasols. They meditate, they pray. On days when there is an eclipse of the sun or the moon, the faithful pour down to the river in vast throngs. All the inhabitants of the city dip into the river to obtain holy protection against the evils and the dangers of life. According to Hindu philosophy, the man who is fortunate enough to die in Benares and whose ashes are mixed with the waters of the Ganges will become one with Brahma at once without passing through the many incarnations designed to purge man of the many impurities acquired during his life on earth. Sacred cows wander through the streets and alleys crowded with eager purchasers. We pass between two close rows of tiny shops. This is an immense and colorful bazaar, one of the most celebrated in the Orient. You'll find saris embroidered with gold, brocaded fabrics, and around the bend in the alley artisans engraving copper vases and trays. Primitive wheel, a skillful potter turns clay vases so gaily that it looks like a game. You will see them again on these norias, dipping eternally in the depths of the earth for water, water the benefactor which gives fertility to the rich soil of India. The landscape around Khajuraho is charming. You will stay overnight in a comfortable dak bungalow operated by the Indian government. Today is market day and from the far countryside peasants and farmers come in with produce to sell and desires to fulfill. The women are decked out in their most beautiful saris. This is an occasion not to be missed. They are magnificently decorated with heavy solid silver bracelets and necklaces. Among the multitude of merchants, the seller of ankle rings is the most popular. Now that the work of the day has been accomplished, as well as a little merrymaking, the Indians think of their religious duties. The temples are close by and to them streams the crowd to honor its gods. Khajuraho was once a powerful and prosperous city, but war and the passage of time have placed a heavy hand on its palaces, its streets, and its squares. In ancient times there were 85 temples in Khajuraho. Today there are only 30 dating from the 10th and 11th centuries, but across the ages they bring us an impressive and touching remembrance of the opulent beauty of Hindu art. The walls are difficult to discern, hidden as they are behind these exquisitely carved statues. What a swarming multitude of gods and goddesses. What a poetic profusion of musicians and dancers. The women of Khajuraho are accustomed to these familiar marvels. They come to the temples to lay out their saris in the sun and wait for them to dry as they gossip. Now this is the Man Mandir, built about 1510, standing some 300 feet over the town of Gwalior. Some of its stones go back as far as the 5th century. Long ago, the old legend says, Prince Suraj Sena was cured of leprosy here by an aged holy man. In gratitude for his miraculous cure, the young prince followed the counsels of the sage and erected the majestic fort. He added to his name the surname of Pal. Your dynasty will last, predicted the sage, as long as your descendants faithfully bear this name. And so it was. His descendants reigned over the country until the day when young Tejkaran refused to bear the sacred name and thereby lost his throne. The roar of the old cannons has been stilled for centuries, but the warlike ardor of the Khajuraho peoples is lively and deep-rooted. One evidence is the dance of the militia of Orissa. During four centuries, the major part of India fell under the domination of the great Mughals, who were Muslims. The Mughals left many traces of their reign in India, and one of the most extraordinary is known as the Taj Mahal. The great emperor Shah Jahan built it to bury the body of his beloved wife Mumtaz Mahal, who died in childbirth, giving day to her 14th infant. 20,000 men labored 22 years to erect this architectural marvel, a mausoleum and white marble encrusted with semi-precious stones. Then, after completing the tomb, Shah Jahan was imprisoned by his own son Aurangzeb, and he died after a long, regretful look at the Taj Mahal. Like him, linger for a moment or two and gaze at its beauty. And now come to enjoy the classical Indian show for foreign visitors to this extraordinary country, snake charmers playing to their perfidious charges. A pleasant drive will bring us to the capital of Rajasthan in only a few hours. Jaipur was named after its founder, the celebrated Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh, who built the city in 1728, 70 years before the Napoleonic Wars, 60-odd years before the founding of the young American Republic. Come to see the Palace of Sales, the Hawa Mahal, which houses a splendid collection of ancient arms, oriental carpets, manuscripts, and paintings. In India, Rajasthan has always been noted for its love of the arts. The Jaipur artisans are skilled in stone cutting and in jewel design. They were long ago, and both their skill and their fame last to this very day. In the center of the city stands the Palace of the Maharaja. His scale of living under the Republic is less grandiose than it was before. Taxes, the scourge of the modern world, have reduced his stable of 99 elephants to only a few. To imagine the splendors of the fabulous India of old as described in ancient chronicles, you must visit New Delhi. Republic Day is being celebrated in New Delhi. This day is the national festival of the young Indian Republic, member of the British Commonwealth of Nations, founded in our own era. The extraordinary processions give a striking image of the diversity of races and people which inhabit this immense subcontinent. You will return to India, said an Indian friend to me before my departure, you will return because there is a mysterious and compelling atmosphere which you will find nowhere else. And he added with a smile, you're so close to India now. By Air France.