Udaipur Days, Udaipur Nights
Sitting on the stoop of Gangaur Palace waiting for Dr. Singh, I witness an endless Landcruiser cavalcade ferrying the wealthy clientele of the Lake Palace Hotel across the grassy memory of a lake. But more importantly it teleports them at light speed through the diesel exhaust-choked alleys, past the would-be wailers and hailers, the dirty or destitute; their mutual velocity allows only the briefest of glimpses. I see glazed, dispassionate, unprepared, bewildered, ever-so-slightly amused expressions painted on puppet heads. The torsos are wrapped in designer-blah monochrome complements. They roll on by, down, down, down the winding way, pushing reality aside and leaving it behind.
At night, it is the dogs. Is it lunar circumstance or the migrations of extra-dimensional beings that triggers the torrential, cataclysmic cacophony of canine catharsis, howls like vengeful violence, yelps like terror-stricken screams? The racket sweeps like a giant wave from far to near, from near to far, leaving in its sudden wake a startlingly complete void of sound. A dream or nightmare passing through the shared nocturnal consciousness of the skinny street hounds.