These notes continue my travelogues more than a month after the previous ones. Not that I have been lazy. Not that the country and her people have lost their appeal. Not that all that are to be seen and felt have been exhausted. Not that the cold weather and the harshness with which this winter has begun has dampened my interest. Far from it, I have just returned from a trip home to India. I am now ready with a renewed energy to conquer new territories, explore places yet unseen, dig into history and tradition, sample the art and architecture of the land, walk the gardens and parks… and discover for myself what they all mean, measure and evaluate my personal responses, and forge a sense of purpose and meaning to my existence.
The day can be summarised in these words – one museum, two exhibitions and a delicious dinner. A visit to the Toy Museum was a little better than boring. I did learn about toy theatres. The many optical toys predict the motion picture as we know it. To learn that “Snakes and Ladders” is of Indian origin was a surprise. As in most cases, spiritual meanings are to be expected: ladders represent spiritual progress, the fulfilment of good karma; snakes, just the opposite.
The first exhibition was titled “Playboy Exposed”, celebrating more than 50 years of the famous magazine. Here is a careful balance of genuine art and naughty pornography. In each picture lies beauty of the female form and the male fantasy. In each picture is an image that represents the culture and taste of a generation. Yet I could not appreciate these finer aspects without distraction. For that, one has to be detached and view them dispassionately. I was too involved.
The second exhibition was the Schweppes Photographic Portrait Award Exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery. I am still far from appreciating serious photography. I could not agree with the judges on the first and second prizes. There were much better submissions that deserved better rewards. Photography and other art forms, though with rules of art and execution, are finally judged subjectively, within a cultural framework and social fabric of an age in which they are seen.
Dinner was an expensive affair but an experience of fine cuisine at leisure. The decoration at Cactus Blue was Mexican but the food was varied. A mix of fruits blended to right texture and taste was an almost perfect drink. The appetiser of crispy asparagus was just as good although the stringency of the sauce sometimes hid the flavour of asparagus. The main course, more Asian than anything else, was a fillet of sea bass cooked to delicate softness within a wrapping of banana leaf. The fish was lightly marinated so that the taste was simple and enjoyable. Dessert was strawberry cheesecake served with a scoop of ice-cream. The first few bites were enjoyable but the tongue soon found the sweetness repulsive. Too much of a good thing robs the perception of goodness. What stole the show was the main course, as it should be in any dinner. Of course, the bill too stole the show.
