A trip to Pune

“HUBBLE BUBBLES and PEACOCK SITARS”

Treasure Hunting In Pune

Not all India-bound travelers want to chance the delights of sitting ensconced in one of India’s Bees of the Road – the three-wheeled, black and yellow auto rickshaw. They might want to give it at least a try, as it is still a much-used means of daily travel around cities big and small. Here in Pune (some 2 hours southeast of Mumbai), one of them whisks me from new Pune to “Old Town”. Nearly close enough to touch, we pass a heavy cement mixer pulled by two white bullocks, their long horns nodding up and down under the strain of their labor. Motor scooters, cars, bicycles weave in and out of each other’s path. Trucks and buses spew clouds of exhaust right about my nose level. Outside a school, a veritable beehive of rickshaws is queued to pick up their young customers. The Indian solution to the school bus, perhaps? One vehicle after the other fills with children wearing blue school uniform. Would you believe a bare minimum of eight first-graders can fit into the back of a rickshaw? Not only will they fit packed tight as sardines, they have smiles on their faces. Hard to tell if these smiles are due to school being over or cheery disposition. Let’s believe it is a combination of both.

The density of humanity in Pune’s Old Town with all its colors, scents and activities is a welcome contrast to the part of modern Pune in which the late Osho’s Ashram is located. I’ve been reminding myself to be “tolerant, tolerant!!” since arriving in town. Not necessarily easy to do. Westerners exploring this side of town are generally lumped together as Ashram-visitors and considered easy prey for dubious propositions. I don't know why the followers of the late Osho have attracted this image, but it cannot be denied. Billowing maroon cloaks, Birkenstock-clad feet and blissfully hugging followers of the late Sri Rajneesh are the hallmarks of spiritual treasure hunters who have been descending on Pune for years. They remind me all too much of a short story written by Hermann Hesse as long ago as 1910, a tongue-in-cheek description of the world of eccentric plant eaters and members of alternative life styles. It is easy to pinpoint where these foreign born Ashram-visitors hail from: the cozy, middle-class environment of Alpine regions and a reasonably large contingent from Israel. Local Indians number few and far between the disciples of the late guru. To their credit, volunteers tend gardens and parks of great beauty around the Ashram. These are accessible even to people who go to great lengths wearing blue, green, yellow, black — ANY color other than the typical and ever-present red of the Osho people, - in other words, travelers of the non-Guru-following variety like myself. Generous contributions and, by Indian standard, steep fees help maintain a modern and well-kept campus. Rumor has it that the cost to run an Ashram is high and since the Master’s death, the flock has has supposedly dwindled somewhat. Their desire for fine dining might also be the reason for a number of cozy as well as unique Western-style restaurants the likes of which one might find in hip sections of London or New York City.

Leaving behind the quarters of spiritual treasure hunters, I go in search of more worldly treasure. To be more precise, the treasure trove of the Kelkar Museum, India’s most elaborate private folk art collection. Dr. Dinkar Kelkar had the passion (and, fortunate for him, the funds) to assemble some 20 000 unique pieces of Indian handicrafts and artifacts, over a period of 60 years. These have been made available to the public in a 5-story museum, part of which used to be his home during his lifetime. What a mansion it is, too! Cool, cavernous rooms with high ceilings, rambling on and on; winding upstairs and overlooking a large inner courtyard from balconies off each floor. Counting only one other visitor, numerous guards and other museum help tend to each floor. All are too happy to hover around the rare visitor. A notebook comes in handy, as photography is not permitted.

If anyone shares my penchant and appreciation of folk art, they can well imagine the delight of roaming among these treasures. Consider me a distant cousin of the good Dr. Kelkar, who must hold a record in the art of assembling objects of beauty. Here, we have entire ceilings, carved in gordic knots and studded with mythical beasts; intricate wooden gates measuring 10 feet wide and at least 15 high (I measured and guesstimated the width with my own bare feet!). Table lamps? Imagine this instead: a ten foot brass lamp, with seven tiers and each tier with 30 individual small lamps. A bare minimum of two white bullocks must have been required to transport it from its original 17th century home in Gujarat to Pune. Near the entrance, two carved and painted “Evil Crushers” (Yali), fierce monsters with outstretched claws and sharp teeth looking at evil with bulging eyes...(I could think of a few places the world over where their talents are immensely required!!). A fat Ganesha in red lead coating overlooks an assembly of house shrines – all ornately carved former family treasures.What about body care? There’s an entire collection of body and foot scrubbers, from terra cotta to brass with handles the shape of elephants. Ladies’ ornaments for hair, nose, feet, waist (oh what tiny waists!), kumkum and spice boxes. Dr. Kelkar appreciated the smallest rose water bottle as much as larger pieces: he even brought an entire wood and rattan bullock cart from Ahmedabad, to place it strategically in front of a perfect facade of a 19th century Gujrati house, complete with wrought-iron pillars, roof, carvings and “lawn chairs” on the porch-like structure. Palanquins straight out of fairy tales (good to be King, or should I say Maharaja); clothing; kitchen utensils from lime containers to coconut scrapers, brass perforators much like a modern pizza slicer but of course not just useful, but also a pleasure to the eye.Then there is a musical instrument collection. Its extent is ample proof of the good Dr. Kelkar’s love of music. Instruments I have never seen before or heard of, and for which I must consult the note book, are listed as follows: double, conical and tribal tamburas; bulbul, gotuvadhyam, rabab, surbahara, sitar (including one shaped and painted like an elaborate peacock, saaz, israj, veenas of various kinds, santoor, sarangi and more varieties of drums than anyone will care to read about.

And the Hubble Bubbles! Yes, these Turkish style smoking devices are actually labeled as such. Elsewhere, they may be known as hookas, shishas or water pipes, but here at the museum, they are hubble bubbles. Not far from the display is a carved and painted elephant, with a door to gain entry into its belly; much like a Trojan Horse except this one more in keeping with the locality. Obviously, someone in 18th century Rajastan must have been inspired by the history of ancient Greece.

To my personal delight, I surmise Dr. Kelkar was a man of peace: The museum contains a few odd 17th century swords, a half a dozen muskets, and some protective gear from the warfare of centuries gone by - but the weapons assembly is small and delegated to a back corner on the top floor. Where, in closing, I sincerely wish all such instruments to be found the world over could be left to mold away in glass cases, in obscurity and most of all, unused......

Raja Kelkar Museum at 1377-78, Natu Baug, Off. Bajirao Road, Shukawar Peth, Pune - 411 002, India