TOUCH THE SILVER BABY

mid-november 2006
a few of us went on a bike ride in the morning, headed out of town, just to see what we could see. it was kind of an initial foray, a reconnaisance mission-- we thought that first we’d start exploring Lucknow’s environs, and then we had high hopes of getting all the way to somewhere else, like maybe Kanpur...or Varanasi...or Nepal...on second thought, we realized that would probably be all uphill with no gear shifts...

anyway, while this particular bike ride was pleasant and refreshing, there wasn’t anything particularly exciting to report...except for this:

southeast of town we starting following this guy who was pedaling a cycle-cart loaded with plastic or plaster lawn-type statuary-- elephants, maudlin dogs, green parrots, and babies...with a gleaming SILVER BABY on top. we were enthralled. it was so delightfully surreal and really quite Southern Gothic. we followed him for a while, making this our new course-setting device, but then decided he was going too slow and who knew how long this could go on, so we passed him with the stipulation that we had to touch the baby on the way around to put some closure on the interaction. we each stretched out an arm to do this as we veered around him in the road. then later we overtook him again in a side street of villas where he seemed to be making a delivery and we were perusing pigs, ponds, and a way to turn around for lunch. i don’t think he was delighted to see us. anyway, long story short, by the time we got back to town "Touch the silver baby!" had become a catchphrase and we were determined to introduce it into frequent use except that we didn't quite know what it should mean. then we figured it out: our last stop was at an enticingly eerie-looking-despite-bright-sunlight garrison church at the edge of the military cantonment at the edge of town. as we were tiptoeing through the echoey church and feeling kind of haunted thrills and wondering where this kind of frisson comes from even of you’re not religous...and then once we were back out in the sunshine dissecting the feeling and its source-- is it the architecture, certain kinds of space, combined with other techniques that induce changes in consciousness? consensus of years upon years of agreeing that a place is special or holy? built-up psychic charge from such focused concentration from so many people? simple sense of history? mass delusion? extra-rational senses that are nevertheless valid?-- we suddenly realized that to touch the silver baby means those moments when a self-proclaimed nonbeliever can’t deny the experience or recognition of that sense of the uncanny and of unexplained "divine" presence. and i have to say, if you haven’t ever touched the silver baby you’re missing out.