Khmer Diary

The Thai flight from Suvarnabhumi to Phnom Penh lands five minutes ahead of ETA. I had opted for an eVisa for my visit, thus avoiding the long queue under `visa on arrival’. I timed myself from aircraft alighting, passing through immigration check, baggage collection and boarding a cab. Twenty one minutes. This is a good start!

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Prima facie, there is little to suggest an Indian influence in these parts. Scratch the surface, and nuggets appear. The etymology of three places in Cambodia serve as examples.

Consider Angkor. It is a corruption of the Khmer word `Nkor’ which, in turn, is derived from the Sanskrit `Nagar’, i.e. City.

The Rolous Group of temples lies 13 kms off Siem Reap, and was the capital of the Khmer kingdom around the 9^th – 10^th centuries. The locals refer to this place as Harihara-alaya. Hari + Hara + Alaya; in other words, the abode of Vishnu and Shiva.  

On the south-west fringes of Phnom Penh lies Chaktomuk, a serene place to watch the sunset from a barge. It lies at the confluence of four rivers; Tonle Sap (2 branches), Bassac and Mekong. Chaktomuk is a corruption of the Sanskrit word `Chaturmukh’, i.e. four faces.

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On the return bus ride from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh, I sat next to a man about my age. We got talking. He was a pisciculture expert, involved in several riverine fish breeding projects in the country. He talked about Tonle Sap, the country’s main river. It is the only river in the world that reverses direction in water flow every year, based on seasonality. With the onset of monsoon in June, the river flows upstream, away from the sea, and empties into Tonle Sap Lake (the largest freshwater lake in south-east Asia) for the next four to five months.   

Bend in Tonle Sap at Phnom Penh

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My early memories of Phnom Penh were of a quaint, sleepy outpost emerging from the scars of Khmer Rouge. It was one of those rare capital cities with no public transport infrastructure; it still does not have one. Over the past decade, there has been an explosion in construction, and vehicles on clogged roads. All in the name of development, or as our Government is fond of reiterating……`Vikaas’.

Two, three and four wheelers jostle for limited road space…..politely. The usual global big guns in the motor vehicles world fight for market share for two and four wheelers. The tuktuk or three-wheeler segment, however, is an absolute duopoly……between Bajaj and TVS. My heart imperceptibly swells, ever so slightly.

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More on the ongoing real estate boom at Phnom Penh. Skyscrapers, blocked views, reflecting glass buildings, sharp angles, blinding LED displays……the city skyline has acquired that numbing sameness prevalent in most other metros.

Siem Reap offers a welcome change. There is something about red-tiled slanted roofs, pagoda-esque, that’s easy on the eyes!

Phnom Penh skyline

Siem Reap skyline

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I meet John at Lost Bar & Grill, located on the toney promenade of Sisowath Quay. Looks-wise, he appears as a slimmer version of Telly Savalas, and prefers being dressed in all black. He hails from Boston suburbs. He hasn’t been to the USA in thirty-five years after setting foot in these parts. John cut his teeth in the construction equipment hiring business in the Siem Reap area, graduated to a road building contractor before stepping off the gas to open this bar at Phnom Penh a couple of months ago. Lost Bar specializes in all forms of beer off the tap. Business is looking up. John is happy to let me play my own music from YouTube in an establishment devoid of other customers.

Across the counter a bespectacled, studious young lady caters to my thirst. Her name is Alli, and she’s from Siem Reap. She is 24. We start a conversation. Alli graduated in banking and finance from the Royal University of Cambodia and took up this 3 PM to 11 PM job. The pay is decent, and she gets to have spare hours in the mornings. She shares a small apartment at Phnom Penh with her brother, who works at a real estate firm.

“With your academic background, you could have landed a job at one of several local or international banks,” I say.

“I do not want one. I receive feedback from my batchmates about the high levels of stress at banks. And such a job does not align with my objective,” she responds.

“So what is your objective?”

“I utilize my free time in the mornings to prepare for my masters at the university, which I will attend next year.”

“And what thereafter?”

“I will take up a teacher’s job at a high school or college at Siem Reap, and be with my community.”

Perspective! Experienced `Swades’ first hand.

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Surviving the hot, humid and sticky weather is a challenge. Cambodia has a sensible solution to beat the tropical heat. It is called beer.

Beer encompasses your daily life. A large proportion of hoardings advertise all brands and forms. Beer is available off the shelf at daily needs stores and mom-and-pop shops; at prices that compare favourably with mineral water.

Some of the brands are well established. There is the eponymous `Cambodia’. `Angkor’ is not far behind, with its word-played `Anchor’ offering meaningful challenge.

The new kids on the block are more interesting. `Ganzberg’ bears no relation with the Beat Generation icon. Its name is derived from a combination of G for German (because it is advertised as beer made with premium German technology) and perhaps from the promoters’ fascination for Carlsberg.

I see dark clouds of a diplomatic stand-off brewing between Cambodia and India. The current rage in Cambodian beer-dom is a robust, full-bodied stout (Alc. 5.3% Vol). It is only a matter of time before the bhakts get wind of this offering. It is called Hanuman.

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I can confirm, with much happiness, that the industry in fakes and replicas thrives like never before. This straddles the world of iconic brands in fashion and allied accessories. For the discerning visitor, it is vital to distinguish between a fake and a replica. A fake usually involves a shoddy rip-off, often with a re-arrangement of letters in the name. The end-product often also lacks finesse. A replica, ah monsieur, has the touch of an artiste! Pictures speak louder than words. Check out the catalogue samples below.

Replica

Fake

Fake

Fake

Replica

Replica

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Officially, it is called the Kingdom of Cambodia. The day after I reached Siem Reap, the country celebrated the Queen Mother’s birthday with much joy. But as Lennon / McCartney wrote, “Her Majesty is a pretty nice girl, but she doesn’t have much to say.” Cambodia matches UK as a constitutional monarchy. Although it is described as a multi-party democracy, ruling power has rested since 1985 with Hun Sen (a Khmer Rouge defector) and his Cambodian Peoples Party. Hun Sen’s outlook may be paraphrased in that quote of Henry Ford about Model T…..`people can vote for anyone, as long as it is the Cambodian Peoples Party’.

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People in the Khmer kingdom originally adopted Hinduism. Towards the end of the 12^th century, the majority converted to Buddhism, led by the royal family. The intricate reliefs sculpted in the western gallery of Angkor Wat depict scenes from the Indian epics. Ramayana permeates sections of Cambodian society even today. Inexplicably, the Mahabharata is virtually unknown in modern Cambodia. The walls of the southern section of the western gallery are dedicated to the battle of Kurukshetra. A large contingent of middle-aged Americans arrive to view this section. Here is a rough transcript of what their tour guide had to relate about this section, which I overheard.

“What you see are scenes from the final Battle of Kurukshetra, as described in Mahabharata. ‘Maha’ means `great’ and `Bharat’ means `war’. This was a war between two brothers; one good and the other evil. The good brother ultimately beat the evil one, primarily because he had the blessings and guidance of Krishna. Krishna is another name for Lord Vishnu, to whom Angkor Wat is dedicated.”

Go figure!

Bhishma on his bed of arrows

Karan - Arjun letting it rip

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All visitors to these parts have their favourite Angkor temples. Mine lies beyond the Angkor Archaeological Park, 25 kms north-east of Siem Reap. Banteay Srei is a 10^th century Shiva temple, pre-dating Angkor Wat by a couple of centuries. It is a miniature marvel of intricate carvings in red sandstone. In Khmer, `Banteay Srei’ means `the city of women’. But this is a contemporary name derived from a phonetic pronunciation of `Banteay Sri’, the `auspicious city’. Inscriptions excavated at the site gives its original Sanskrit name as `Ishwarapura’, the `city of God’. The four `dwarpalas’ (guardians) in the inner sanctum are intriguing. Their faces are a mixture of Garuda (the bird) and a monkey.

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Do not miss out on a show of Phare Circus when at Siem Reap. This is a remarkable project that originated at Battambang in 1994 with nine children from refugee camps in the aftermath of Khmer Rouge. A monk took them under his wings and taught them painting and art as therapy to overcome their trauma. This initiative metamorphosed to an art and public school, where free education is provided. A music and theatre school came up next. Finally, for kids who wanted more, the circus school emerged. Phare has produced 250+ shows around the world, including in far flung countries like France and Russia. In 2021, it entered the Guinness Book of World Records as the longest running single circus show, timed at 24 hours 10 minutes! But this is a list of achievements only. The Phare Circus show is a dizzying, jaw-dropping, synchronous amalgam of art, folklore, theatre, music and acrobatics. One for the ages.

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Finally, I dedicate a section to Chea Nor, my friend, philosopher and tuktuk man at Angkor. Physically, Chea is a combination of four outsized football; a couple that pass off as legs, a small one that represents his head and the largest one that comprise the rest of his body. Chea is the ultimate gadget freak and multi-tasker. He contends that his tuktuk is air-conditioned. What that means is that there is a blower in the shape of an AC vent that is directed at the passenger section. He has installed a mini refrigerator in the boot. After each halt in oppressive weather, he offers a bottle of chilled water and cold towels …. with a smile. Three smartphones are installed on mobile stands in front of his steering wheel. One is dedicated to WhatsApp and a second one to Telegram. He maintains a constant two-way communication via recorded messages on these two apps, ostensibly with his fellow tuktuk brethren and commission agents. On the third phone, he is on facetime, in animated dialogue with a woman who I assume is his wife. All these activities occur simultaneously, as he keeps watch on the road whilst driving. At each halt, he unpacks a portable hammock from the boot, hangs it from the branches of two trees, goes horizontal and renews his arguments with his wife.

Life’s good!

Note the smartphones!

Tuktuk with an AC!

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Khajuraho Diary

 T. S. Burt was a British engineer in the rolls of the Company Bahadur. In 1838, during his travels in central India, he was told about the wonders of this place called `Khajraho’. His palanquin bearer conveyed the location of this place, hidden deep in the jungles. Khajuraho had been lost to mankind for more than five centuries after the fall of the Chandellas. That is the underlying story of the rediscovery.

A short drive from nearby Panna brings us to the UNESCO World Heritage site on an early March afternoon. The sun is beginning to stamp its authority.

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There is a near-complete lack of visitors, other than a few locals. The rows of outlets that cater to a largely `firang’ crowd round the year look desultory. The pandemic continues to have a telling effect. We enter the Western group of temples at the break of dawn with two objectives; to use the `golden hour’ for photographs and to avoid the blazing sun. Its a surreal experience to have the entire complex to yourself ; not a soul in site, other than the occasional security personnel.

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Opinions of experts indicate that the temples of Khajuraho may have been built on mounds / islands within a large lake. This is borne out by the fact that none of the temples have perimeter walls for protection; also, they stand on high plinths. In his travel writings, Ibn Batuta mentioned that there was a large lake in Khajuraho, dotted with temples. Today, the water body has been replaced with manicured ASI gardens. Its surreal to imagine how this complex would have looked like within a lake, and how on earth were they constructed ten centuries ago.

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On the road in India, the English language morphs into a separate beast that’d hardly be recognizable in Old Blighty. Your lateral thinking ability is put to test to make sense of what are written at various places. Sample these…..

 It presumably started out as an effort to create a retreat made of bamboo. It ended up being a mere `treat, of the bamboori variety. 

The `coolar’ is a mere typo, and an easy one to decipher. I wonder, however, at the thought process of the Captain behind a couple of others. Bianca Castafiore wouldn’t recognize this `Margrita’ (Item 11). In Item #7, orange juice is the only warhead of Citrus Attack. The other ingredients, presumably, are antidotes / defence options for the intestine.

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The Western group of temples is more touristy. This is where most visitors focus. It is easy to miss out on a few other gems that lie beyond this complex. These are not so well organized, though ASI is in charge. The Southern and Eastern groups have unique architecture that include Vamana (maintaining a form similar to Kandariya Mahadeva), Chaturbhuj and Brahma temples. You need an effort to locate these amidst residential colonies. But they are worth it.

And then there are the remnants of Chausath Yogini, just outside the precincts of Western Group. It establishes the tribal origins of the Chandellas and their pagan rituals. The place is eerie.

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Twenty kilometres out of Khajuraho, hidden among forests, lies the delightful Raneh Falls. The forest guard informs that most visitors to Khajuraho give it a miss. The existence of nearby dams hardly provides a water flow for the falls, except during monsoon. The rock formations around the falls take your breath away. Five separate layers of igneous rocks give it the stunning variety of colours; green dolomite, black basalt, brown quartz, red jasper and pink granite.

Ken Gharial Sanctuary is located a bit further down the river. With a pair of decent binoculars, you can observe the languid movements of these fish-eaters in the clear blue waters of Ken.

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Benaras Diary

9:30 a.m.. Varanasi Junction. You can’t set a foot on Platform No.1 without either trampling on a fellow human or on fresh poo. Its Dev Deepawali. Millions across India and from abroad are converging at the ghats of the Ganges. This occurs each year fifteen days after Diwali on a full moon night of Kartik Purnima. Gods descend from heaven on this day to bathe in the Ganges; hence, the chaos.

As festivals go, this is as big as it gets at Benaras. All the 80+ ghats are lit up with diyas, the sky is smattered with firecrackers rarely seen, sound and noise pollution levels touch new highs and brisk commerce is undertaken by vendors in temporary stalls. The boatmen make their annual killings on this evening. I overheard one of them quoting a lakh to an inquiring customer for a one hour ride.

Yet it all merges to produce a spectacle worthy of the gods.

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Breakfast. The mandatory fare is all about kachori-sabji, hot jalebis and malaiyo. A bit more about that last item. Milk is left out in the open at night to catch the dew. A sprinkling of cardamom, saffron and sugar is followed by vigorous churning to generate a frothy output. This is then topped with pistachio crumbs. The end result transcends you to heaven.

Ram Bhandar, in Thatheri Bazar, is supposed to set the gold standard for kachori-sabji-jalebi. As a non-regular, please factor a half hour wait and serious jostling before your turn arrives for the goodies. The stuff is good, but there’s a better, lesser known option around. You need to move away from the ghats to get a taste of the real deal. This is a hole-in-the-wall outlet at Chetmani Chauraha. The place sets the Nadia Comaneci (Montreal edition) standard. Its the mix of black grams and paneer in the sabji that does the trick. As you munch your jalebi, the crackle can be heard for miles around. 

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The `bhakts’ may continue to holler. Their worthy opponents may shout themselves hoarse. India has only one religion, one opium for its people. Its called cricket.

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Rahul catches me at Chet Ghat. His English is fluent. He sizes me up, and says I must be from Canada. Canada?! I get the drift of his observation and deduction thereafter. Chet Ghat houses a mutt of Sachchidananda Maharaj. The Maharaj has huge following of Indian origin from Canada. Rahul concludes that I must be one of them. He escorts foreign tourists around the city. He’s disappointed that I’m not a newbie to the place. But his commentary on the history of the fort at Chet Ghat, the battle with Warren Hastings, is a gem.

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There’s something about anchored boats on a shoreline. It brings a sense of serenity, a lightness of being. It contributes as much to making Benaras what it is as any other theme.

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Across the river, clinging to the walls of Ramnagar Fort, there’s Shivprasad Lassi Bhandar. They serve lassi of a semi-solid variety that you need to eat with a spoon; not drink. Default toppings comprise malai and rabri. A large `khullar’ of the stuff, a proper meal by itself, sets you back by forty bucks. Its a steep increase from the twenty rupees I shelled out six years ago. The post-consumption bliss remains unaltered.    

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Babu is a Benaras-bred Bong from Bangali-tola. His dad was a fitter in the mechanical section of Indian Railways at the local DLW. The youngest child of his family, Babu peddles `babaji ka prasad’. He stocks stuff of high quality. Unfortunately, he himself has succumbed to irretrievable depths from his own addiction.

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At Babua Pandey Ghat, you can’t miss the bright signs of Lucy’s Heritage Cafe. It essentially serves vegan fare and offers a stunning view of the ghats. A few months ago, the river overflowed. The resultant floods wreaked havoc on the city. Lucy’s was practically under water for some time. It took two months for the delightful cafe to be restored and for operations to resume.

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The `Swachh Bharat’ mission was a five year drive launched in 2014 to tidy up India and to bring in a culture of cleanliness. The project served its purpose for the government’s headline management. It may also have created awareness. At ground level, however, old habits are deeply embedded and die hard. On an early morning visit to Vishwanath Temple, I stood in a long queue behind a dhoti-clad, lota-wallah in his forties. He maintained a torrent of spit on the walls of the temple as the queue progressed. All in the name of faith and Bholeynath!

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8:30 a.m.. Clear skies. The morning stroll along the ghats begins. But its soon brought to a halt by the strains of a `bansuri’. I follow the sound. Perched on a ledge above Tulsi Ghat is a young flautist, constructing an impeccable Ahir Bhairav. Its evident that he’s professionally trained. A unique act, in a matchless setting, for an audience of one. A surprise awaits you around every corner at Benaras.

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Rajasthan : An alternative discovery

Billboards, hoardings, posters, menus at restaurants. In an increasingly consumerist India screaming for custom, outdoor advertising provides meaningful insights on the lay of the land and its people.

This piece is a filtered output of observations on the road in Rajasthan in February 2018. Some require explanations and are accompanied by commentaries.

The official hop-on, hop-off tour bus near Fateh Sagar, Udaipur; a seenful sight!

From the menu of an upmarket fusion restaurant at Jaipur. I didn’t have the temerity to enquire whether this was a rhetorical statement, a worldly observation or a diktat to the contemplating drinker. Please note that the key differentiation lies in `Tobasco’.

Spreading discounted peace to the world.........peace by peace.

This is a tragic story. What commenced as an enterprise in pastry excellence ended as a herd of goats, considering the two signboards of Sona.

 HIS influence now extends to far-flung Udaipur.

Self explanatory.

 How do you land a USP that enables you to grab tourist traffic around Pichola Lake? In Octopussy lies the answer!

This is an excerpt from the highest rated eatery at Chittorgarh across all travel sites. The Chinese offering benumbs, kyasooner rather than later.