Detour

ROCK-SOLID SUTRA Nobody knows why the ruling 10th century Chandela clan picked this desolate spot on a heat-seared plain 300 kilometers southwest of Varanasi as the site for its prodigious spree of temple building—nearly 100 in as many years. But it's a good thing the Moguls, who were lopping off the heads of idolatrous sculptures in their rampage across northern India, never found them. They would have been apoplectic with rage at the temples' stone figures communing in sexual positions that would make a Pattaya prostitute blush.

Today, the 25 temples that survived not only the invaders but the ravages of erosion are scattered around the quiet village of Khajuraho. Entrance to the 16-hectare archaeological park, where most of the elaborately carved sandstone temples are found, costs $10. All the temples feature friezes of intricately detailed aspects of daily life. Warriors prepare for battle, musicians tune their instruments and a dancer plucks a thorn from her foot. But it's the sex that put the temples on the tourist maps. Buxom apsaras, or celestial maidens, coyly cavort around the corners of each temple, flaunting their haunches, while meter-tall couples demonstrate their sexual prowess.

Few archaeologists understand the significance of this Kama Sutra in stone, but Anoop Jain, a temple guide, has his own theory. "People were becoming too holy," he explains as he directs a beam of sunlight with a heart-shaped hand mirror toward a pair of stone lovers engaged in a passionate kiss. "They were going to the forest to meditate, and no one was getting married." So the King, suggests Jain, commissioned the carving of erotic scenes into temple walls for "inspiration." It will never be known if the King's pro-family program proved fruitful. Though mighty warriors, the Chandelas were decimated by the Moguls. But the region's new rulers never bothered to investigate the desolate corners of their conquered land—and to discover what they were missing.