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After a long Sunday afternoon ride through the countryside on the Enfield, we found ourselves at one of the most beautiful temples we have yet seen. The Trimurti Temple on the southernmost outskirts of Bangalore, past all kinds of farmland and winding roads, has three large sections: one each for Ganesh, Hanuman, and Shiva. Here we have Hanuman, the Monkey God, against a lovely cloudy sky. More pix soon of this fantastic location :)
Monkey man say: Talk to the hand.
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Before we started riding the Enfield for real, we took some local advice and brought it around to the nearest Hindu temple for a puja. This is very common here; people bring bicycles and motorcycles to the temple all the time for a ritual blessing. Given the traffic and driving conditions here, we’ll take any advantage we can get.
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The temple holy man had us park the machine in the proper spot, and purchase some flowers, floral garlands, coconuts and limes from a nearby vendor. He lit a spoonful of something on fire and wafted the smoke about the bike; we warmed our hands over the flame and then placed our hands over our hearts. Then, chanting all the while, he strung the garlands onto the front of the bike, and made various marks on the bike’s frame with kumkum. He placed the limes underneath the front wheel and instructed me to run them over, while he continued chanting.
Finally, he blessed us, placed a lotus blossom over the speedometer, and sent us on our way, with his business card and a request that we e-mail him the photos we had been taking throughout.
True: On the way home, we ran out of gas…
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This is an oil painting made by a lovely old painter man here in Bangalore. His real profession is painting signs for Bollywood and Kollywood and Sandalwood movies; his real passion is painting huge, realistic canvases of Indian landscapes and ruins; but his real money comes from doing goofy shit like this for crazy expats like our friend, who we will not name here for legal reasons. We’re next, though. Oh yes. We are next.
More photos soon, and the detailed story of our visit to this artist and his studio as soon as Pam is done making me dinner. And yes, I know the Hindi glyphs don’t match…
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My first motorcycle ever ! Glad it’s an Enfield, the quintessential Indian two-wheeler.
There is a whole mythology that surrounds Enfields in India. In the classic expat-outlaw-on-the-lam-in-India novel, “Shantaram,” the protagonist buys himself a beat up old Enfield Bullet and cruises the countryside like Dennis Hopper in “Easy Rider,” or Michael Parks in “Then Came Bronson.” There are cinderblock Enfield repair shops everywhere, with grease all over the walls and mechanics who look like they bathe in motor oil.
And one of our friends, it was either Alex or Andrew, said if you are going to ride a bike in India, it’s just rude not to ride an Enfield.
Pam is worried that it may be dangerous for me to drive it here in Bangalore, and I fully agree. But for now, I have no idea how to even start the thing.
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…I was talking about drying freshly harvested rice. Why, what did you think I meant?
