An adventure beckoned. A solemn morning visit to the cenotaphs of Badabagh, the royal burial grounds, an elegant compostion of Mughal and Hindu architecture. My next stop was the old capital city of Ludhrva followed by Kuldhra, a ghost village, deserted and deconstructed due to tariffs imposed on the villagers. Following a picnic of roti and dahl, the subsistence food of India, namely, flat bread eaten with an assortment of 60 types of lentils in varying sauces, we arrived in the small desert village of Khuri.

There I met my camel and the adventure began! This agreeable creature and I quickly developed a rapport as we spent the next several hours trotting in the grand style of a camel, into a space of perfect serenity. The only voice heard was my own, as I delved into the life of my camel driver, a young animated Indian who spoke cordial English, Spanish and French yet could not read or write in any language, including his own. I am fascinated with the lives of the desert people, who rely to such a large extent on the tourism industry. As does so much of India. There in the desert, amidst moments of my own quietude, I could feel timelessness.

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