Khajuraho - Part 1

Khajuraho: A Sacred Journey Through Time and Art (Part 1)

The morning sun casts a golden hue over the dusty paths of Khajuraho as I make my way through this remarkable village.

Khajuraho is a little village in central Madhya Pradesh. Simple houses, painted with bright white, green and purple. We are traveling there to see a magnificent group of temples, and stroll the tiny villages waiting for th opening time of the Temple Area. 

Girls sitting on the side of the road, observing the work of a caterpillar. Smiling quietly, glancing discreetly at us, shy, but a little curious about the foreigners passing by. 

Pigs, goats, chickens, cows fed impartially by the local people.

Ladies weaving colored baskets, or making clay pottery.

I asked a beautiful girl sitting in front of the door of a house: "Can I take a picture of you?" "No," she replied with a tone of hostility, and suddenly I realized how much disturbance my heavy presence might bring, looking at everything, photographing everything, somehow disturbing the quiet local pace.

This moment of self-awareness shaped my approach to experiencing this sacred place one that houses some of India's most magnificent architectural treasures.

Another girl, as a contrast, calls me and proudly shows her pet mouse. 

A lady is getting water from a fountain. All the colors express joy. I still have in my memory the dark gray and black dresses I have recently seen in an European airport. 

Two women greet us friendly as we pass along the road, peeking inside their yard. Everything here seems slower, simpler, poorer and happier. Would I trade my life with theirs? I don't know. 

Opening time: we proceed in the direction of the temples. A last glance to the quiet local life, to a small shrine reflected on the water of the pond, and off we go. 

Will describe the magnificent and unique  temples in the next part.