Around the World in 80 Dinners - Bill Jamison [73]
“That’s part of the celebration,” the driver explains. “Families who can afford it make sure all mothers, wives, and daughters get new dresses and jewelry for Diwali.”
“Oh,” Bill mumbles, regretting that the notion came up with Cheryl listening so raptly.
Our car reaches the Taj Mahal right at midnight, pulling up to a small, private entrance for the Palace wing. When George Bernard Shaw stayed in this building not many years after the hotel’s 1903 opening, well before the management added a conventional high-rise tower, he claimed that he no longer needed to see the real Taj Mahal in Agra. It’s easy to understand the sentiment. The edifices differ substantially, of course, but both are architectural wonders; this one designed in an amalgam of Asian, Moorish, and Florentine styles. The other sports a more romantic origin, to be sure, but our nest sustains romance through sleepovers. Take your choice.
Our butler greets us in the reception area, escorts us to our room, expedites the check-in formalities, and gets us glasses of champagne as welcome drinks. “I can also bring you a deck of cards,” he says, “if you want to celebrate Diwali that way.”
“What do you mean?” Bill, the poker player, asks.
“It’s a tradition to gamble on cards today. The goddess Parvati played dice with her husband Lord Shiva on Diwali night and decreed that people should gamble then, too. Winners are supposed to prosper in the next year and losers get another chance for success the following year. The real losers are people who don’t try their luck, because legend says they will be reborn as donkeys in their next life.”
“You better bring us a deck,” Cheryl says quickly. Bill decrees we’ll play two hands of Texas hold ’em for two rupees each, the equivalent of a nickel, giving us both a chance to win. Bill takes the first pot and then folds his cards on the second hand, forfeiting to Cheryl. Our mutual good fortune becomes instantly apparent, preceding even the fate of the deal. With pure good luck and no advance planning, we’ve arrived in Mumbai at exactly the right hour on the most exultant day of the year. If it’s all about karma, as many millions of Indians believe, each of us must be starting with a full tank.
In tourism circles, India is known as a tough nut. One of our most widely traveled colleagues, a master journalist at the New York Times, told us before we left, “No matter how much you like to chart your own course on a trip, India rules. It will always throw you tricky curves.” In recognition of the difficulties, most Americans who visit the country come on a group tour or pay an expert to handle their planning in detail. Neither option appeals to us; we’ve never traveled like that and don’t want to begin now. Perhaps we’re too stubborn, a complaint each of us has made about the other a few times before.
As an alternative, after talking about the situation with Cheryl, Bill carefully picks hotel companies in our two destinations, Mumbai and the state of Kerala, that have the resources and experience to deal with all our local arrangements. Established places with a solid track record according to his research, they charge a premium for their accommodations and services, but that seems reasonable in India if they can deliver. The Taj Mahal certainly does, at least for guests on its executive-club floors.
In our room, swaths of silk in multiple shades of gold cover the bed, windows, and chairs, matched handsomely with carved-wood wall panels and accents. Bright sprays of orchids play counterpoint to the white-and-gray marble in the bathroom. For real executives occupying the quarters, the desk provides hookups for every imaginable electronic device, and for their downtime, a nearby cabinet holds a large plasma-screen TV. Surveying the gadgets after our poker game, Cheryl says, “We could probably launch the space shuttle from here.”
“Go ahead. I’m stumped right now just by the master console for the lights.”
Early the next morning, we’re off to explore our neighborhood on foot. For many residents, the