beforesunrise@khajuraho.india

1

BeforeSunrise@Khajuraho.india

If

India was a human, Khajuraho was supposed to be the heart.

I met him coincidentally on 19th January 2005, at the heart of India.

In front of Nandi temple where Nandi, a holy cow of Shiva was standing still. After I had finished walking around the Kamasutra Temples in the western group temples, it was about 1 pm. I headed to the gate, a tall Caucasian man was walking slowly in front of me, his left leg seemed be disability.When I walked pass, he smiled to me and said “Hi, how are you? Where are you from?”

“I’m Thai” I answered perplexedly.

“I’m from United State.”

American Barf!!

I said nothing and kept walking, he followed slowly.

“If you don’t mind, may I join your lunch, please…”

American Barf!!

For the sake of Thai Transportation slogan ‘Please offer the seat for kids, pregnant ladies, seniors and disabled people’, having lunch with a handicapped American should not be much trouble, I thought.

I just nodded. He smiled openly. We started to walk together, he introduced himself, his name was ‘Adam’.

“What’s your job?” He asked a common question of conversation.

In fact, I was so bored with strangers who liked to talk about silly things-stupid questions but I did say ‘I’m Thai’, that I was, I always got stupid worried about Thai’s manner, so in the name of Thai and for the sake of a disabled one, “I have no job” His knitted his eyebrows.

“I quit my job then I came to India” I answered. He laughed loudly and said “Same!!, I just quit my job and I came to India” I smiled sincerely to him for the first time.

During lunch, I learned he was not a disabled one, he fell down in Goa, his left leg got stuck in a big hole. He folded the jeans to show me a soft splint. Then I recognized I met him before in the morning while I was taking photo in the temples but in that time I had no eyes for anything else but ‘Kamasutra’ Sculptures.

After Tali (local Indian meal), he became my companion tacitly. We walked from the town to the old-village to see the Kamasutra sculptures of the eastern group temples.

We walked through ‘Old Village’, the kids gave us big smiles. In the village, everywhere was temple, under a tree even at a small corner of a hut. I saw ‘Puja’ flowers everywhere.

We walked cross wheat fields, golden blossoming over green. Cows, sheeps, goats, huts, cow-dung fuel, scarecows and 2 peoples 2 nationalities on the same way. We didn’t talk much. We both came from the opposite side of the world, nothing to make conversation.

The sculptures in eastern group were not much as erotic as the western group. Most of temples were under renovation but the ‘old’ and ‘new’ were very contrast.

“Look at that” he pointed to an ugly angle covered by new cement.

“That’s something we called ‘Development’” I said sarcastically, he laughed very loud.

2 After we had finished all the temples, we walked back to the city, he asked me for Masala Chai (Indian tea). Tacitly again, we went for Masala Chai then dinner at ‘Blue Sky’ restaurant, nice atmosphere on sunny terrace where we could see the temples of eastern group temples and most important thing we could see sunset as well.

A cup of Chai each, sipping slowly, the conversation trickled to connect 2 people from different world, the first world country and poor third world country. I did sarcasm often, it’s my nature, often ridiculed at the flash first world countries.

“I feel you dislike me, don’t you?”

“It’s not my business to like or dislike you, we just met, I don’t hate you and don’t like you either but I do hate American government and hate everything being American” “Are you serious?”

“More than serious, it’s true” “Thanks for frank answer” “But I could not stop blame myself, see? I said I hate American but I’m sitting here and talking with American people, it’s odd, isn’t it? And one important thing, America is the last country in the world I would like to go” He had traveled from the west of India, Bombay - Goa – Agra. I had traveled from the east of India, Nagaland – Sikkim – Hazaribagh – Bodhgaya – Varanasi, the westerner from the west and the easterner from the east, we met at Khajuraho - the heart of India.

We had talked continuously and aimlessly, talked about life, traveling, people, books, music, world, etc. He seemed like the real bookworm, once he mentioned about ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ I felt the space between the first world and third world got narrowed.

Sometimes we allowed a friend named ‘silence’ to join our conversation. I brought a book which I just bought from Bodhgaya. It was my beloved book, I tried to find it since the first one had gone with somebody who used to be my beloved friend.

“Narcissus and Goldmund by Hermann Hesse” He read the cover, I handed him my book and said “It’s very good book, read it if you like” “But you’re reading…”

“It doesn’t matter, I had read it before, now I’d like to write postcards, read it if you like” I wrote postcards silently, he read my book for long time then looked at my face and said “Hesse wrote gorgeously, it seemed like the whole world was on his hand” I just smiled and kept focusing on my postcards, let him read.

Time had gone so fast, it’s time to go to bed. He asked me “Where do you stay?”

“Yogi Lodge” “Same!”

It’s not surprised at all, as long as we worshiped ‘Lonely Planet’ as the Bible.

After said ‘Goodnight’ I did unlock the door key, got in my room, heard the voice of his legdragging lightly then faded out.

Next day, I got up early as usual and went out for walking around, glanced at the room number 2, useless to think about him, we just met, sooner or later we had to go on our own way. I got back before noon. Knocking sound was at the door softly- was Adam. I opened the door, led him to sit down on the bed.

“I had changed my mind” he started “Talking with you was so nice, do you mind if I’d like to stay here more?”

“No need to ask me, it’s your business-not mine” “Alright, it must be good, if I walk slowly for one day” “And listen to breathing of the town” I added meaninglessly.

3 Everything was flowing spontaneously. The conversation was not boring as I had ever spoken with other foreigners. We had lunch together at the small garden restaurant nearby the lake.

We spent our time silently, he read Narcissus and Goldmund while I was writing postcards.

The Sun moved down to the west, it was time to move ourselves either. We went to internet café. I spent not much time there, ‘hotmail’ in India got trouble often. So I had nothing to do, turned to the next screen, he was pressing keyboard uninterruptedly.

“Adam, I gonna go, by the way, see you at usual place” He nodded.

I walked around the town finally ended up at ‘Blue Sky’. I got a nice seat, walked along narrow wooden bridge up to the tree.

“These seats had reserved at 6, madam” a waiter told me “It’s okay, I’ll move at 6” It didn’t matter at all, an hour at the nice seat – I thought.

Sipping Masala Chai while watching ‘Mithuna’ and ‘Apsara’ who were dancing in yellowlast sunbeam. They must be happy in this time, No human eyes kept watching them, No camera, only them.

Not so long time, I saw he was walking slowly, he looked up at me and smiled openly, his white teeth contrasted his bit dark sunburn face.

He was not ‘surreal’ Farang as I often saw other westerners in India. Most of Farangs I saw, they grew long hair, some dreadlock, long beard and often dressed bit shabby-colorful cotton clothes, hanging colorful Indian style bag, did act like they were ‘Guru’, often showed off by telling the girls about tragic-comic traveling in India. But Adam was not, he got short hair, the glasses, 5pm.beard, clean jeans and long sleeve shirt, looked so simple.

“As we’re sitting here, it looks like we’re Rana and Rani” Adam said satisfyingly “We would be Rana and Rani just for a while, at 6 we have to move” I reported status ..

Rana&Rani time was up, we moved to another seats “Look at that guy who became a new Rana, he looks like John Malkovich” I told him.

“Ahh…yes, he looks like John Malkovich very much” He agreed and kept talking “Have you ever seen a film-Being John Malkovich?”

“Yes, I’ve seen, I really like its story, so creative” I replied “Me either, I’d seen almost 10 times, everytime I always saw new symbols” From the guy who looked like John Malkovich, we talked about films, books, music, traveling, life and dreams.

“Before I die, I intend to write a good novel, just one but great one” I told him my dream “I would like to write a good movie script but I didn’t get the nice novel yet” He replied “Okay, I’ll write a good book then you make a movie script from my novel” I was kidding “Well, we’ll make a good film, Tim Burton would be our director then Depp and Foster” Adam added laughing loudly.

We were laughing for fantasy dreams.

I would be the least among men with dreams and the desire to fulfill them rather than the greatest with no dreams and no desires.

- Khalil Gibran Same fondness made nice atmosphere meanwhile different western-eastern thought made colorful conflict, we were sitting nearby a poor fire which gave us smoking more than warmness, sometimes Adam put firewood, blew it, lighten fire.

“Skillfully” I told him sincerely, I had never met Farang who knew how to lighten firewood fire before.

“While I was working, when I had free time I often went for camping, to see the skies and stars then I had learned how big of our world…”

“And realize how small we are” I added.

4 He gave me smiling eyes. Strangely, only few drops of words which came with ocean of words, I felt close to him-closer then before. It seemed like we spoke in same language – world language.

“You think big, eh?” he softly knocked his head by fingertip.

“I’m not sure which one is bigger, in blouse or in brain” only joking I intended to do.

Adam got choked.

Midnight, it was time to get back, after said ‘Goodnight’ to him in front of my room number 5. I got inside, stood still perplexedly, something sparked in my head. I raised the window blind, saw he was brushing teeth at the window. When he saw me, he waved, I replied by still wave unconsciously. I picked up the room key clumsily, locked the door, walked slowly to the opposite side, knocked at the door room number 2, he opened the door. I handed him Narcissus and Goldmund and said “I came to give you this book, if you want to read it, please keep it but you don’t want, that’s okay” “Please come in” I sat down on the bed nearby the door “Do you really want me to keep this book?” he asked I nodded slowly “Could you please read it to me?” I asked him “Okay, let me put my glasses” I was sitting on his bed, leant the wall, he came to sit beside me then started to read, loudened enough for 2 people

…

Narcissus: “No road will bring us together.”

Goldmund: “Don’t speak like that.”

Narcissus: “I’m serious. We are not meant to come together, not any more than sun and moon were meant to come together, or sea and land. We are sun and moon, dear friend: we are sea and land .It is not purpose to become each other; it is to recognize each other, to learn to see the other and honor him for what he is: each the other’s opposite and complement.”

Goldmund was perplexed. He bowed his head, and his face was sad.

Finally he said: “Is that why you so often don’t take my thoughts seriously?”

…

Staying overnight of man and woman did not end up by affaire always. Some relationship had no specific name, no sweetness but bit warm and deeply blue. Solitude had gone temporarily – at least it had gone for tonight Somebody seemed like the sun, necessary for being the breath of life. Somebody seemed like sunshine in the winter morning, but it didn’t mean it was not important at all. No sunshine, I still alive just got a bit cold.

Nobody can replace somebody’s place. Somebody was born to stand in one place, the place with no specific name, the place will never have changed and will never have dissolved.

As Adam was, he did not come along to be the lover or being friend. One page of diary, somebody came along to be warm sunshine in winter morning, although we knew it would never last long but at least it made un-empty page of the diary.

“It’s nearly sunrise, I have to go” I told him.

“Before sunrise” he smilingly said.

“Yes, before sunrise and I have to go” I replied.

“Okay, see you in the morning”

5 In the morning, I took a cold shower slowly, packed my stuffs, did check-out. He was waiting at the lobby. We walked together silently to the cross-road.

I was going to go the way he just came from, and he was going to the way I had been.

It’s time to say goodbye, “Bye, good luck” “Good bye, take care” I walked straight on my way and had never turned back, because I knew… …his voice echoed in my head We are sun and moon, dear friend: we are sea and land.

One week later, I kept walking slowly in Gwalior, Madhya Pradesh, his first electronic letter was in my mailbox, some part wrote :“I just finished Narcissus and Goldmund. There are too many things to say about that book, but the one that struck me most was the way it addressed the conflict between wanting to experience the freedom of the road and the desire to apply oneself to the creation of some lasting work…so real…

There is one quote that stuck with me: ‘...there would always be one or another who was special, whom all loved or all feared, who seemed to be chosen, of whom people spoke long after his contemporaries and had been forgotten.’

Hesse often writes about these people, the ones who are different, the ones who leave a mark.

When I met you, I knew I had met one -- a rare and sublime joy.”

I read mail and got oddly sadness.

His voice repeated in my head, We are sun and moon, dear friend: we are sea and land.

It is not purpose to become each other it is to recognize each other, to learn to see the other and honor him for what he is sweet but blue, sad but true.

We still kept in touch (for a while), He got his job back, vice president of a big IT company in Boston, …and had never asked me to go America.

