Motorcycles, they make our world go round.
Truly, these two-wheeled machines have made me marvel at their form and function, right since I’ve been conscious enough to understand the feeling of wind hitting my skin in tandem with the twist of a throttle. What motorcycles have given me, in return for living with them, maintaining them and fueling them, cannot be quantified. But what I can do is share how they’ve made a huge impact on my life, the type of people I meet and how I meet them.
Ever had a friend who you’ve never met, never ridden alongside, never even spoken to on the phone but your connect is super strong – as if you were siblings? That’s what MK and I share – all because of our motorcycles!
I had just bought my dream machine – the BMW R1250GS.
It was surreal, bringing this behemoth home and like any true motorcyclist, I was itching to ride the living daylights out of it! As if on cue, my friend who I’d never spoken to, MK, sent me a text saying he was on his way back to India in December. (He stays in Dubai most of the year). He was returning to his village home in Kerala – in the heart of South India!
Since we’d never met, yet, were two passionate motorcyclists – passionate about motorcycles, accessories, riding gear et al, this was a golden opportunity for us to finally ride together after years of WhatsApp friendship! MK, like myself, rode a plethora of motorcycles and had a penchant for quality.
MK and I got to know each other because both of us were part of a motorcycle (messaging) group that owned Kawasakis – The Versys 650 to be exact. We both loved the V650s as they made for fantastic, practical and fast machines that were very accessory friendly. As it happens on such groups, discussing accessories and dealing with weirdos who always had a point to prove, MK and I found our opinions chiming in unison more than a few times. This led to us deciding that, as and when we’d get the chance, we’d ride together.
You know what they say, great friends are hard to come by. So I take them when I get them and hold on as tight as the brotherhood allows.
The reality was that MK’s home was a thousand miles away from my home – one way. I’d have to cross 5 states, ride through mountain ranges, alongside India’s West Coast and cover decent highway distances to reach Kerala.
2000 miles ahead!
I convinced my usual motorcycling partner in crime, Vaishali, to join me on this multi state ride across western India. She’s the best pillion I’ve ever had on a motorcycle. Always in sync, always ready to pull her weight (and the bikes! If need be 😜). Vaishali has been a constant companion on quite a few motorcycle rides. Most importantly, she doesn’t mind me giving most of my attention to my motorcycle when on a ride, especially with my cameras.
Vaishali, flanked by the GS and I. #helmethair #forthewin
WELL BEGUN IS HALF DONE
Well, the ride didn’t begin all that well.
Being a Creative Director, leading my own advertising and production teams, I’m always jumping from one shoot to the other and the night before the ride was the same, it got real late. We started the ride a full 6 hours behind schedule, as I spent the early morning packing and setting up my GS, first BIG ride after all.
Starting late (on a ride as huge as this one) is a strict no-no for me. It just puts everything out of whack and has a cascading effect on the whole endeavour. Anyway, we made our way, leaving my home city of Pune at noon, in the state of Maharashtra, India.
It was December, a few days ahead of Christmas. MK is Christian and the whole idea on this leg of the onward journey was to reach the destination in time for us to celebrate together! To help make that happen, MK and his family had made their way to Wayanad, up and into the Southern Indian Mountains, with MK riding his Versys 650.
Vaishali (my pillion), the GS and I were a long ways away though. We were still riding towards Goa, our first overnight stop on the ride.
The worst place to stay, if you have to leave the next morning, is Goa.
Why? Because one never feels like leaving Goa, ever! The food and people in Goa are some of the best. Every time we ride into Goa, the chilled out vibe grips us so tight that we almost always end up extending our trip! No such option this time, we were on a mission, mission to Mangalore!
Susegado baby, you’re in Goa!
‘Susegado’, as the Goans refer to the ‘vibe’ here, is infectious to say the least. From quiet naps in the afternoon to casual beer and seafood in the evening, you just want to slow down and enjoy each breath you take, when here. Something that is so alluring to my current city dwelling mindset, I am certain I will get myself a home in Goa someday. Maybe I’ll even get a boat and spend my retirement dough mounting Denali lights on it!
We reached Goa after dark, just in time for a quick dinner with local friends and then to bed. Next morning, we took our time once again, leaving at noon. On our way out of Goa, our next overnight destination was the city of Mangalore in the state of Karnataka (already our third state on this ride!).
ALONG THE WEST COAST
The coastal road from Goa to Mangalore, a distance of about 400 kilometres, is some of the most pleasurable and easy riding one can do. Especially now that we had already fallen behind our riding schedule, there was no point rushing through the good bits. Taking the Goan vibe along as we rode across state borders into Karnataka, we took time to appreciate the abundant coastal beauty this stretch of the road had to offer. Stopping often, just to enjoy the constant sea breeze and refreshing views.
The whole 400 kilometre Goa-Mangalore stretch winds along the western coast of India, in tandem with the Western Ghat Mountains on one side and the stunning Arabian Sea on the other, lined on both sides of the road with rustling coconut palms.
Even though the 400k distance may seem short, this coastal route is a slow ride by default. After a good 10 hours on the road, we reached Mangalore City and battled its peak hour evening traffic to reach our hotel. Promptly dismounting and heading for dinner.
Just 400 kilometres from the Indian Sunshine State of Goa and a few tens of kilometres short of the Southern state of Kerala, sits the bustling coastal City of Mangalore. With its own unique Mangalorean cuisine and culture, it’s a city and region which is as unique as it is stunning! I’d taken a trip specifically to explore this part of India in 2018, on my Versys 650, check out that story here: Malabar Calling.
On this trip however, Mangalore was just a place to lay our heads before we finally made our way up into the Western Ghat Mountains towards Wayanad.
GOD’S OWN COUNTRY
Ah, Kerala, you beauty!
From crisp coffee to tantalising teas, from calm lagoons to the roaring seas, from life at sea-level to misty, evergreen mountains – Kerala has EVERYTHING any traveller could ever ask for. Not to forget the divine cuisine that is the diamond in the crown of this state!
As soon as we rode into the Western Ghat Mountains, we left the warm and sultry tropical weather behind and were welcomed into the highlands with cool mountainous breeze. With the Boxer Engine of the 1250 GS growling between my legs, I took full advantage of the superb 2-Up riding dynamics of this stellar motorcycle!
Not only were Vaishali and I riding 2-Up, our GS (The Swashbuckler) was fully loaded from front to back! Right from the SW-Motech EVO Daypack Tankbag, carrying most of my Camera paraphernalia, to the AERO ABS Side Cases (also from SW-Motech) – our main luggage. I also have to mention the nifty Urban ABS Top Case that we had, carrying all our footwear at the back.
Why do I consistently choose SW Motech ABS Luggage over a trio of aluminium?
Well, even on a motorcycle as well put together as the GS, one needs luggage that is manageable single handedly. (OR) When touring 2-Up, the rider-pillion team has to be able to lug the luggage up a hill with bare hands. Ultimately, ABS luggage is light, yet holds its form beautifully and looks stunning on the outside. Moreover, the AERO ABS Side Cases aren’t too big and thus make you carefully consider each item you are carrying. You know, so that you don’t end up carrying extra crap that you’ll never use. Most importantly, in a worst case scenario, one can shove these abs plastic luggage cases in overhead bins on an aircraft!
ABS luggage #forthewin from SW-Motech & Denali Electronics D4 V2 TriOptic LED Aux. Lamps
Just in time for this ride, I had mounted the Denali D4 V2 TriOptic LED Aux lamps. These came in very handy as we rode further up into the western ghat mountains and the Sun went down behind the peaks. We were flying towards our destination, the forest district of Wayanad. We passed the coffee plantations of Coorg/Madikeri during early evening and then crossed the state border into Kerala as dusk approached. A few more hours of cold weather riding saw us entering the forests of Wayanad on the GS, looking for our hotel, where our Christmas dinner awaited!
My friend, MK, had made sure that as soon as we got off the motorcycle, our beers were handed to us! Mark of a true friend ;).
A CHRISTMAS TO REMEMBER
Motorcycle Friends – MK, his wife Seema, Vaishali and I. Our Steeds – MK’s Kawasaki Versys 650 & The Swashbuckler!
When motorcycle tourers meet, the first few hours are spent conversing and analysing each other’s motorcycles. It’s one thing to share messages about which accessory to buy, its a whole another process seeing it mounted on a machine.
MK and his wife had ridden up to the forests of Wayanad to celebrate Christmas with us. What a gesture and what a way to bring in 2020!
WAYANAD & VYTHIRI
Absolutely calm green forests, nestled within sweeping hills and water bodies, that is what Wayanad and Vythiri offer.
We spent a couple of days exploring the areas around, took in the perfect winter weather and generally chilled out. I even took the opportunity to head out and ride a couple of off-road trails deeper into the forests of Vythiri. Lucky that the monsoon season had passed, this place would have been mayhem to ride through, landslides and all!
At the end of one trail, we found ourselves a glassy lake with open views, imperative that I spend some time shooting my GS! 😀
ON TO THE NEW YEAR!
With Christmas behind us, MK, our pillions and I were to ride further deeper into Kerala – to their village home, 300 kilometers further south of Wayanad. This was our first real ride together!
Riding into 2020!
2020 was brought in with style at (what I like to call) MK’s motorcycle-home. One reason why we hit it off is that the both of us are motorcycle aficionados, the constant motoring banter between us is endless, we often found ourselves being the last people in a room. Visiting a fellow rider’s home sometimes treats one to a fascinating insight into their unique perspective on motoring.
MK’s Motorcycle Home & Festive Champagne!
There’s something to be said about living far away from the city. The calm surroundings and slow pace of life in Indian villages is worth its weight in gold if you ask me. Increasingly, I have come to realise that it is the quality of the life one is living and not the location that matters most. Here’s hoping I put my learnings from this trip into practice sooner than later!
Finally then, our time at MK’s home also came to an end. Their family had left no stone unturned in making sure we were fed every type of delicacy Kerala had to offer. Vaishali and I were as honoured as we were humbled by their extraordinary hospitality.
I struggle with goodbyes.
KOCHI – NO TIME FOR MELANCHOLY
On Indian roads, there’s no time to brood. As soon as we rode out of rural Kerala, the heat, humidity and bustle of urban traffic hit us like a freight train!
We were now on our way to the metropolitan city of Kochi.
After spending close to 10 days in the stunning serenity of Wayanad, Vythiri and then at my friend’s village villa. Kochi’s fast pace took some getting used to! Luckily for us, the BMW dealership here was headed by a friend and fellow GS rider as well. For the first time on this ride, Vaishali and I left the GS for some TLC at EVM Motorrad Kochi and made our way to the touristy side of the city. Kochi is a hardcore coastal city, the Arabian Sea forms an inseparable part of the life here. Whether it’s the sea-food or the ways to get around town, the Sea is everywhere.
Ferry Hop in search of the Biker’s Burger!
We hopped onto a ferry to get us to Fort Kochi – probably the most touristy part of town. With the prospect of juicy burgers in front of us, we weren’t complaining! Lo and behold, I found myself a ‘biker’s burger’, I had to give it a go! 😀
Our stop at Kochi city was planned as a jumping off point. We had the GS being looked over by the boys at BMW, just as a precaution, as this was our first big tour with the beast. Next, we had to plan our journey back towards home. Or did we?
TAKING THE LONG WAY HOME
My partner in crime on this ride, Vaishali, is a corporate honcho and her work schedules are always very demanding. But when we’re on a motorcycle ride, she leaves the planning to me. I was free to take whatever route I wished, as long as I got her back in time for her work. Ok then.
Since we’d largely hugged the coast on our way south, I was quite keen on taking the mountainous route towards home. With the GS making short work of highways, I was quite keen on taking a road that had a few more curves and few less curbs, if you know what I mean.
Although as a tourer I tend to ride South quite often, there are still pockets of South India I am yet to explore. The hill town of Coonoor, in the lap of the Nilgiri mountain ranges is one such unexplored pocket for me. And so, thanks to google maps and Taj Hotels, our plan was set.
COONOOR & OOTY
The GS, surrounded by tea gardens, at 7000ft!
If Tea and mountains are your thing, Coonoor & Ooty in the southern Indian state of Tamil Nadu are a must visit. Both hill towns ooze old world (and dare I say, colonial) charm. The climb upto about 7000 feet above sea level brought us to our little cozy spot in Coonoor. This quaint little hotel (managed by Taj Hotels, India), was the perfect example of old British architecture that now forms part of regular life here. The temperatures were quite low, which was a welcome break from the humid hustle of Kochi. Both Coonoor and Ooty are touristy towns with tea gardens surrounding all mountain slopes, all around. Needless to say, both towns are full of tourist traps that are worth visiting only if one is fond of such things.
Sweeping Views – Train Ride to Ooty – Ooty Railway Head – Our Cozy Spot at Coonoor!
Our love for machines, however, drew us to the Nilgiri Mountain Railway. The last remaining meter-gauge rack/cog railway line in India. The hour long train ride snakes its way along the mountain slopes from Coonoor to Ooty, offering sweeping views of the stunning tea gardens and surrounding hills. A perfect way to take in both towns, when short on time.
On that note, we were no more on a leisure trip. After our second night at Coonoor, we were well and truly homeward bound. Even though home was still a good 1000 kilometres away!
Riding down the Blue Mountains!
Now, it was just a matter of mounting up, riding down the Blue Mountains of India (Nilgiris), wrapping up our 20-day motorcycle sojourn and finally, settling down with the grind once again.
Vaishali and I took one more stop on our way back home. The coffee town of Chikmagalur. If coffee is your thing and you’re in India, Chikmagalur is the place to be! Estate after estate growing coffee line the hillsides here. Check out my Kawasaki Versys 650 story, where I explore this area in greater depth: Malabar Calling.
With Chikmagalur behind us, it was a relatively straight 700 kilometre highway dash back towards our home city of Pune. Memories and experiences in tow, atop the mighty Swashbuckler, we had made good time on every leg of our 3000 kilometre winter journey to the South of India. For the kind of riding we do, I doubt there’s a better steed out there.
MK and I, the original dreamers of this trip, have made a pact.
Every year, when he returns to India, we will meet up and ride together in some new part of India. Our next escapade includes the Southern Districts of Idukki and Periyar National Park and Tiger reserve.
As Vaishali and I returned to Pune, MK and his family reached their home in Dubai. All of us, back to the grind. Little did we know, what 2020 had in store for the world. Lockdowns after lockdowns in India have kept my GS and me caged in isolation since this whole pandemic fracas began. Although I’m pretty sure these testing times will pass, I truly hope us ‘Southern Souls’ are riding alongside each other again, soon.
If it wasn’t for our motorcycles, all of them, that got us here, MK and I probably wouldn’t ever have crossed paths.
And if you took a look at us today, we’re like family.
Motorcycles, they make our world go round.
Writing for this piece has been rendered by Nipun Srivastava, our resident adventurer & Creative Head.
Check out the Swashbuckler Motorcycle Build!…
Motorcycle built by The Nirvana Team. Accessories provided by SW-MOTECH & DENALI Electronics. Project supported by BIG BAD BIKES.
Just the thought of traveling through this South Indian State conjures up images of stunning backwaters, epic roads, coconut palms, fabulous food, mind blowing beaches and well, tropical beauty at its best!
Photographer Nipun Srivastava took a week-long motorcycle ride with the Kawasaki Versys 650, riding through Goa, Karnataka and finally spending some time among the lagoons of Northern Kerala.
Feast your eyes !
Malabar Calling – A stunning Kettuvalam Houseboat at cruise on a typical lagoon.
“These refreshing vistas are what greeted me as I took a stop at Bekal, in Northern Kerala. After having ridden my steed (the Kawasaki Versys 650) through Goa, then Mangalore (Karnataka) and finally into Kerala, I was happy to have covered over a thousand kilometers. What’s more is that I was now well and truly in Malabar Country. A place known for its food, culture, temples, forts, beaches, resort hotels and of course – the serene backwaters of the Arabian Sea.
A sunset cruise over the (yet) noncommercial backwaters of Nileshwar is so nourishing for the soul, one needs to experience it to believe it. A two day drive or ride from Mumbai or Pune or a day’s hop from Bangalore, Nileshwar is your surest way of sampling the Kettuvalam houseboats and Kerala Culture whilst being spared the madness of usual Kerala hot spots which are known to be overflowing with tourists at most times.
As one rides up to the backwaters over idyllic little bridges and through lush coconut groves, you come across a dozen or so houseboat operators dotted along the inner waters of Nileshwar and around.
Queen of the water!
Take your pick, most these boats are similar in look and feel, however we suggest you pick Lotus Houseboats or Bekal Ripples as your cruise of choice. Their vessels are good and make for a better nautical experience.
The boats have onboard kitchens, bedrooms with air-conditioning and open dining spaces fit for a family, couples or even a group of friends. Prices range from $50 to $1000 depending on the length of your cruise.
Cruise choices range from six-hour day cruises to short two-hour sunset cruises and you can even stay aboard these vessels overnight as they make their way, at leisure, from Nileshwar to Valliaparamba.
Sunset Hues – Serene waters of the Kerala Lagoons.
When you ride hard, you must eat well. In this part of India, food is sublime. From seafood to the choicest meats, even vegetarian selections, prepared with tongue tingling spices fit for royalty – it’s a real treat here!
Pardon my lack of Instagram professionalism as I conveniently excused myself from shooting images of my food. In the moment, I preferred pouncing on the plates over pulling out the lenses 😀
Instead, here’s a look at where we stayed.
Taj Bekal Resort and Spa – epic accommodation!
Kerala is home to some of the most idyllic Hotel Resorts and Spa Retreats in India. Taj Bekal, our anchor-point on this motorcycle ride, was the perfect home away from home.
Genuinely, what a place to spend the better part of a week. Taking a stroll under lush coconut palms, spending an afternoon at Asia’s largest Spa (really!), taking a moonlit raft ride on the (in-premises) river, sampling food at all four restaurants, spending time at the beach and in the fabulously put together rooms – we did everything this place had to offer.
Taj Bekal Beachfront!
At Taj Bekal, I’ve stumbled upon my new stress-buster getaway itinerary: Take a flight to Mangalore, get the hotel to drive me to Bekal, spend three blissful nights here and then take a flight back to the grind!
Just being at Bekal eases the senses, surrounds you with soothing shades of green and blue as the sea breeze and brown sand take turns tickling you head to toe. It really is my go-to beach holiday now!
Bekal – Stress buster of sorts!
Now then, with the Arabian Sea and the leisurely Lagoons of Bekal behind me, I was in the mood for some good motorcycling. I now set my target as Chikmagalur, in Karnataka.
After what I had just experienced in Kerala, I didn’t expect too much to see on my way inland. Boy was I wrong, motorcycling in India is truly something to write home about!
Riding away from the coast and into the Western Ghat Mountain range in South Western India, I was left dumbfounded by what I saw on my way.
Zipping through the Western Ghats on the Kawasaki Versys 650!
Kudremukh National Park, this is a protected part of the Western Ghat Mountain range in the state of Karnataka, India.
With just a single, exquisitely laid, super smooth and curvaceous road cutting through, Kudremukh has to be one of the most heavenly roads to ride on in India.
Kudremukh Peak & National Park visible in the distance, as seen from Mullayangiri.
Crossing over the Western Ghat Mountains, the roads now cut through lush Tea Gardens and Coffee plantations. The weather was now noticeably cooler and the roads were empty as can be!
The smooth hum of my motorcycle was the perfect companion as we took turn after turn into the overwhelming green surrounds of District Chikmagalur.
Lush Plantations of Chikmagalur!
Chikmagalur is the birthplace of coffee in India. Legend has it that a Sufi Saint on his way back from pilgrimage to Mecca, carried a few raw coffee beans as he transited through Yemen.
Those few beans are what started it all, as far as Coffee plantation in this region goes. Fascinating!
As you climb down from the Western Ghat Mountains, you hit Chikmagalur Town in the foothills. It’s almost as if Chikmagalur is cradled by the mighty Ghats, sitting pretty at a height of 3500 ft.
I made my way through the town, on one side was the semi-urban hustle and on the other, the mammoth mountain of Mullayangiri – the highest mountain peak in the state of Karnataka (6000 ft).
Riding to the top of Mullayangiri was my next target. It had been a while since I had ridden a motorcycle above 5000 ft in Nepal and Ladakh. I wondered how far up the mountain one could reach with the Versys 650.
On top of the world!! (Well, just Karnataka really.)
The Kawasaki Versys 650 – Atop Mullayanagiri – The Highest Mountain Peak of Karnataka, India.
Getting to the top of this mountain was relatively easy. Although the extremely narrow road with tight hairpins and vehicles moving in both directions really got the blood flowing!
Just a couple clicks short of the top, the road vanishes completely. Hereon only 4×4 jeeps hired by tourist groups take on the last little bit of the climb as it is completely off-road. Well, Jeeps and motorcycles 😉
There should be a paved road all the way soon enough but for now, it was a two kilometer long off road track with steep fall-offs on one side and the mountain on the other! Like I said, it got the blood flowing 😛
Road to Mullayanagiri!
From the thick sea breeze at Bekal to the thin air atop Karnataka’s highest peak, this had been a journey of sorts. The number of different terrains I had seen on this short 2000 kilometer ride was really something.
As I rode back towards Chikmagalur town, I loaded up on the famed filter coffee and bought myself a couple kilos of beans. You need to try the blends from here, you’ll forget about the crap we drink in our cities!
I really do mean that. At the Estate run shops in Chikmagalur, you can get customized coffee blends as per your preferences. Might I add, buying freshly blended Coffee here is extremely affordable.
Charged up on coffee, it was time to head home.
What a journey it had been – seven days, over two thousand kilometers, great food, stunning scenery, fabulous roads and so much coffee. This trip ended up being everything I’d imagined it would be and more.
Safe to say, I’m already planning another trip down South. There’s just so much more to see and experience in South India!
Until next time, I’m Nipun Srivastava, Vrooming off!”
Wow, we at The Nirvana Team can’t wait to see where Nipun head’s next and which vehicle he chooses!
We thank Taj Hotels for their exceptional support and impeccable service along the way, their Hotels and Resorts make the perfect pit stops for motorcycle touring in South India.
The Kawasaki India Versys 650 performed like a total champ on this journey, as expected. Great performance on and off the road, fully loaded and even two-up. An absolute value for money motorcycle for India!
Do tell us what you think of this photo-story by Photographer Nipun Srivastava, would you like to see more stories like this in the future? Comment down below!
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Our resident champ takes the new Mahindra Mojo – Tourer Edition out for a spin!
Join Nipun Srivastava as he chases his vision and talks about the striking New Edition Mojo by Mahindra Two Wheelers.
The Mahindra Mojo Tourer Edition
Fully loaded with Saddle Bags, a Tank bag, Custom mounted Fog lamps, an engine guard, Pannier mounts, Tail carrier and a Mobile Phone Holder which works!
“You know what they say, “If you don’t ride in the rain, you don’t ride at all.”
I’ve been shooting photographs for the better part of a decade now. In that time, I’ve travelled long distances on two wheelers loaded up with my stuff, most of it being camera gear, since my motivation for travel was second only to my need of creating images wherever I went. – Showing it off, once I was back. Stands to reason then, that vehicles have played a major part in my journey. I can’t even remember the last time I took a flight to get somewhere for a shoot.
When Mahindra Two Wheelers came to me with the Mojo, I was intrigued to say the least. I was to take a short trip with the Mojo Tourer Edition and see what it was like. For me, it’s the little things that take a motorcycle from being a mere machine to becoming a true companion on a journey. Power is good to have and we all love style but a motorcycle that takes care of the rider is one that will truly stand the test and taste of a motorcycle rider.
Found my Mojo!
Each time I ready myself for a journey, it starts with nervous excitement. Nervous because no bike ride is the same. Each trip has its own charm and challenge, no matter what direction one takes. On this ride, The Mojo Tourer Edition was to be my companion. A motorcycling date of sorts!
The motorcycle was a black, one pot, 300 cc, twin exhaust, fully kitted out and ready for action Mojo Tourer Edition. With new saddle bags, a tank bag, a handlebar mounted phone holder and two new super seductive fog lamps, this version of the Mojo had us all under its spell right from the start! Phew!
Loaded up and turning heads!
As I walked to the motorcycle, I could hear Santana’s Black Magic Woman chiming at the back of my head. Only fair I thought, this Mojo seemed like a very snazzy slice of motoring kit.
Parking lot silence is blissful. Especially when you get to break it with a sweet sounding twin exhaust. A turn of the key, a flick of the ignition, the mellow hum of the fuel pump and then the ripe cherry of a starter button. The Mojo rumbled to life and settled into its characteristic note.
“It sounds bloody good”, I said to myself.
Time to ride out!
Six gears will let you own the better part of 100 kmph. As will the linear and pretty much effortless power delivery to get your riding day started right.
Purpose built for the long haul
The Indian monsoon is at its peak here in Pune, a dreary grey and overcast sky had me wondering if there was any point in riding out on this day. I love golden light you see, I love the setting Sun, especially in my photography. Still, a day of good motorcycling trumps almost everything else really. We dodged the rain quite a few times on this day but eventually it caught up with us and I decided it was time to eat, for me that is. The Mojo’s 21 liter belly meant it could keep going way longer than my fight with hunger.
No damp spirits here!
As we waited on the weather to let up, I noticed the attention to detail Mahindra has put into this version of its flagship motorcycle. For instance the pannier frames on either side of the rear wheel hold the saddle bags in place, giving the rider more confidence while tackling Indian roads and their temperamental surfaces ;).
No road, no problem!
Connected to the pannier frame is the Tail carrier. A spot perfect for my tent and sleeping bag, if I’d carried it on this day that is! Still, it made a sexy hold for the helmet. With the helmet on it, damn she looked hot!
Ready for adventure!
Rain had now given way to a steady breeze around Kusegaon on this early evening. The rays of the Sun took turns poking at the landscape while I sat admiring the Mojo and setting up some shots of myself with the bike. Kusegaon is a place I come to, often. It’s the perfect place to quickly disconnect from the city and its usual trappings. Something which the Mojo is good for too.
In the thick of it all!
The Mojo Tourer Edition is a purpose built machine for the aspirational Indian motorcycle traveller, to say the least. It’s a nice bike to start ones motorcycling journey on. I was beginning to regret the lack of time I’d have with this motorcycle, only a 300 kilometer ride around Pune/Mumbai this time. Would be an experience to ride through the night with those sexy fog lamps, I’m sure. I have a penchant for auxiliary lights, I must confess. 😀
Evening was upon us as I vroomed around exploring the lush green Kusegaon had offered on this day. With the kind of weather we’d had all day, I was almost certain there would be no good sunset to write home about but boy, was I wrong!
It was surreal, as if the clouds decided that this would be the day they would put on a show of sorts. As if to mark my ride with the Mojo. Further driving home the point of getting out of one’s comfort zone and more importantly, getting out there on a purposeful machine.
The Mojo Tourer Edition – as purposeful as it gets!
Touring is all about being out there and when you least expect it, you’ll be gifted for the choices you made to get on the road and travel on a motorcycle.
The Mahindra Mojo Tourer Edition has been put together for just such a person. One who’s in control of their individuality and does not fear going out there and conquering dreams. Even if it’s as simple as – Chasing Clouds!“
— Nipun Srivastava
Mumbai: (Client) Mahindra Two Wheelers Limited, for flying with @TheNirvanaTeam and for providing the Motorcycle.
TheNirvanaTeam: Kaustubh Khare, Roy Kulkarni, Dinesh Pawar, Vaishali Chandan and Nipun Srivastava (lead).
All views represented on the article are personal opinions of the writer based on his experience with the vehicle showcased.
Check out how Mahindra Two Wheelers Ltd used the content: www.mahindramojo.com/mojo-tourer
More on the motorcycle, here.
Check out more shots from this Photo-shoot!
Every motorcycle ride is a collection of small stories. Experiences, bundled up into fond memories for a lifetime.
Nepal is an enigma. When thinking about this country, what comes to mind are the mighty Himalayas and heroic feats of men and women who have set foot on some of the tallest mountains in the world. There’s more to Nepal than just mountaineering though.
Adventure in Nepal is a way of life. Once here, the ideal ingredients for adrenaline gushing, heart rate increasing and mind altering travel are found in every corner. It was time we took the Nirvana tread to Nepal!
Nepal is a neighbour to India and a mystery to everyone who hasn’t been to this country of concoctions. One of the smallest countries in the world is a window into some of the the biggest mountain ranges in the world. Not to mention the downright dumbfounding natural beauty that is routine here.
Breathtaking landscapes at every turn.
For this rumble through the mountains Team Nirvana would like to thank the Firelords Royal Enfield Owners’ Club and its members who we rode with. Motorcycling is a different ballgame when it comes to international travel. There’s a lot of boring stuff involved before one can actually get to the ‘two wheels moving the soul’ part. Paperwork, permits, hotel bookings and (when you’re riding Royal Enfield bikes) mechanic finding are just some of the things we had to put in place before we left home.
Making plans for such trips is very exciting, mostly because in the heart every biker knows, nothing ever goes to plan. It’s when things do go wrong, that the motorcycling life lessons begin their hallowed teachings.
Distances are small in the mountains but it’s the intensity of roads and conditions that pose the real challenge here. Nepal just about manages to have a road network. It also has some of the worst roads (paths/tracks) we’ve ever ridden on. On our 17 day journey through this country, we rode on everything that this terrain could throw at us.
Ridin’ through a landslide!
On what we thought would be a short sprint from one destination to another, we came across a five kilometer stretch where one entire face of a mountain had slipped into the valley below. A landslide. Five kilometers of track took two hours to cover on our aging Enfields. Because of the toll that two hour stretch took on our bikes (and us!), our entire schedule went out of whack. This is when our motorcycle ride truly started with all its intensity. This is the charm of Nepal and its terrain, nothing is ever what you expect yet, everything is beautiful.
We learned pretty quickly that a ‘good road’ in Nepal is merely a dirt track all the way to one’s destination. If to our surprise we found good tarmac, we worshiped it with both our wheels! The value of smooth roads is understood only when constant off-roading becomes an everyday routine. Sheer tenacity and the ability to take it slow come in handy on endless rocky sections of the roads here. Beyond every challenging road section though, lay the best prize of them all, unhindered beauty.
Reverberating to the sounds of our thumping engines were the stunning Himalayan valleys through which we rode all across this country.
The Capital of Nepal, Kathmandu is hard core. The traffic here is MAD! The pollution is literally sky high and the dust, oh god the dust is everywhere!
Nothing could have prepared us for the onslaught that was Kathmandu. KTM is a concoction of sorts with its touristy yet formal ethos. Formal mainly because of the host of embassies present here, security is tight. Roaming the streets of Kathmandu, one can find adventurers and tourists of many nationalities. A melting pot, not of cultures but of people – in pursuit of their next big experience.
Kathmandu is a gateway into Nepal. A crash course in how to get around in the rest of the country. Hotels here are generally soft on the pocket, memorabilia on the other hand is not, we got ripped off a lot here! Evenings are lively in KTM and the cuisine too is varied and up to the mark. No matter where you’re from, you will find your food here.
The people of Kathmandu are slightly different from the rest of Nepal (we say this largely because of our hotel manager & shop keepers who we encountered). Although they treat everyone the same, when it comes to money, one needs to be careful. The streets are safe and most importantly, fuel is available 24/7.
Boudhnath Stupa – Kathmandu
We, as usual, made the mistake of trying to do too much in time that was better suited to explore rather than endure. Here, we discovered another trait of the mountains.
No matter how much one tries to hurry, the mountains will slow you down. Someone somewhere has rightly said, “you never cross the Himalayas, these mountains merely let you through”. We had a motorcycle issue on the day we rode out of Kathmandu. Although we did reach our destination for the day, it wasn’t before we’d crossed an entire landslide. This stretch took a lot from us mentally, our machines were fine though.
Never underestimate the rigours of mountain motorcycling, ever. We realised here, that even trying to anticipate what the road ahead would bring was futile. Instead, it was best that we slept well, ate well and rode hard.
Photography on this motorcycle road trip was kept to an absolute minimum. We only shot when we had the energy and will to do it. Many a times, we let million dollar scenes pass by just because motorcycling was our first priority. It had to be, for us to keep to our schedule, we couldn’t spare a moot minute. Lesson learnt.
We were now making our way across mainland Nepal. Riding through the lush countryside, we were met with beauty beyond comprehension. The toil we had been through was worth every minute. The views were overwhelming!
Goa of Nepal! Pokhra!
The beach town vibe of Pokhra is inescapable. Chilled out people, good music and great food made Pokhra our favourite place to ditch the motorbikes (for once!) and plonk ourselves for some R&R.
Nestled within the Annapurna valley, Pokhra is where everyone comes to start their journey into the Annapurna mountain range. These are treks which, according to your taste, can stretch from one day to about 20 days. Safe to say, we were not up for THAT much walking, we love our bikes too much! 😛
Instead we chose to sit back, relax and wake up freakishly early to watch the first light fall on the Annapurna Mountain Range.
Watching the first rays of Sunlight fall on these mountains was such a gripping experience for all of us that we hardly even spoke to each other while watching the Sun rise.
It was a very cold morning and we were all very sleepy but as soon as the light-show began, it was like mountain magic. We just sat there in the cold wind, sipping one chai after another, looking.
And that was that. Fifteen days had gone by without us even thinking about going back home. Yet, we had to turn the handle, twist the throttle and push back into India. Nepal as an experience was over. Or was it?
On our way back from Pokhra to Lumbini, we rode our bikes on the most spectacular mountain roads of the entire trip! More than a hundred kilometers of silk-smooth roads, twisting through the Himalayan foothills, it was like Nepal had saved the best for last. This was the cherry on the icing for our motoring heartbeats. We were a happy bunch by the end of this ride.
Secretly, we were all in love with Nepal and its antics. Here, some met their limits, others pushed theirs and for some it was just another day on the road to Nirvana :).
We are yet to have our fill of this wonderful country. It is our promise, we will go back.
“The kiss of the mountain air is everlasting.”
Motorcycles & Mountains!
Check out our video from this motorcycle trip!
Why I ride
Once they asked me why I ride.
I told them, I take everything into my stride,
leaving a trail while through life I power slide.
So that others may have a guiding line.
So they too can break free from the grapevine.
This is how I live my life,
unencumbered and free from strife.
Challenges accepted are challenges won,
failure makes things even more fun.
They looked at me all wide eyed,
as I told them why I ride.
~ Nipun Srivastava
Photographs sometimes have a way of touching the innermost chords with their maker and the subject. These are personal pieces of art. They embody much more than just the subject and thought process. These photographs represent the philosophy behind whole existences. Entire life stories in a picture, meanings of entire lifetimes visualized through action and depiction.
Here’s one such image. The rider and I spent close to an hour composing and recomposing this particular photograph. Fading light and a slippery riding surface were two major constraints, this shot could have been better. But like somethings usually are, this image is beautifully imperfect. Enjoy.
The Motorcycle: Royal Enfield Classic 500.
The Camera: Nikon D 800.
Motorcycle rider: Vishal Kankonkar.
Photographer: Nipun Srivastava.
Motoring enthusiasts like ourselves are defined by the thrill of travel. On wheels powered by engines, we traverse every kilometer we can afford. We ride and we drive, it’s who we are.
The Firelords have literally scorched the roads for over four years and here we are celebrating our power-slide into the fifth! Join us!
As an ode to our dedication for motorcycling and our ever-revving spirit, Ladies and Gentleman, we bring to you the Firelords Motoring Video 2013! Enjoy.
Do leave your comments below!
Rooh – E – Rajasthan: My Journey Home!
Part 8 of Rooh – E – Rajasthan.
To read part 7 – Click here.
To read part 6 – Click here.
To read part 5 – Click here.
To read part 4 – Click here.
To read part 3 – Click here.
To read part 2 – Click here.
To read part 1 – Click here.
Lets go home.
Twenty eight wonderful days had been spent on the roads and in the cities of Rajasthan. On this special motorcycle journey I had led a much disciplined and regulated life. You know, going to sleep early to get up in time for the sunrise more often than not. Also to leave early to reach the next destination on time.
My last morning here was different. I didn’t wake up on time. Three lines of alarms failed to get me out of my snooze on this day. I woke up with a jolt at nine AM when my mum called to check whether I’d left Udaipur.
I mean wow, I felt like even Rajasthan didn’t want me to leave. Letting me be as I revelled in deep slumber.
After I was awake however, it was a mad rush to get on the road. It took me an hour to get to the bike and load up. Hurriedly, I said my thank you to the hotel staff, tipped my favorite waiter and rolled on towards the highway.
Sooner than you’d think, with my bikes’ engine warmed up and us riding smoothly on the highway into Gujarat, I was again thinking back to the time I’d had in Udaipur and Rajasthan as a whole.
What can one say? When a place known for its harsh climate and shifting sands embraces you with a large heart, one can only feel humbled.
My motorcycle ride around Rajasthan had grounded me like no other escapade of mine. Only a long string of adjectives could probably describe what I felt or maybe even that would fall short of truly expressing how liberated I felt.
A complete and absolute assault on the senses. A place tailor-made for the wanderer and ponderer alike.
The sands of Sam
Positively one of the best behaved and most polite in India. Most cultures boast of being hospitable and caring but the folk of Rajasthan truly personify hospitality. They embrace their roots. One has to admire the people who respect and hold in such high regard their own culture, music and place of belonging.
The music of Abu
To be brutally honest, across the length of my trip, the food I had was mediocre. There were some stars though. Like the LAAL MAANS atop Nahargarh Fort in Jaipur or the super spicy Aloo ka parantha at Dudu! Even the Chaat at the Gol Piyau in Ajmer is worth a special mention.
Food and thought
It was just a thought two years ago, today Rooh – E – Rajasthan is one of my favorite pieces of work!
A ride to remember!
Rajasthan was a challenge at first. A personal feat I have to say. Like one gets used to the temperature of water after diving in, I got used to Rajasthan’s ever-changing vibe. From the serene desert sands of Jaisalmer and Sam to the chaotic city life of Jodhpur and the commercial holiness of Pushkar, the feeling of finding myself in a different situation was ever present.
I rode on smooth straight roads, through suffocating sands over vanishing roads, atop camels, walked barefoot on warm evening sand, became a part of the music, made friends from different cultures and countries even, spent a month amongst strangers who I now call my own.
I felt more Indian than I’d ever felt before. I felt more human and alive than I’d ever felt before.
Chancing upon two musicians in Jaisalmer who became friends and delighted me with their art. Etienne ‘Suryaneel’ Lauth and Hariram Bhopa. They were as absorbed in their art as a glass of cold water would be in hot sand, they taught me to forget about the world and do what the heart asks. Let me not comment on the brilliance of their music as it was just beyond word.
Etienne (Suryaneel) and Hariram
Most remembered photographic moment:
Shooting atop desert dunes.
As the sun went down over the horizon made up of curvy dues stretching out till the eyes could see, shooting here was a refreshing experience. I walked atop the dunes barefoot, letting the coarse grains of sand caress my sole. It ended up touching my soul. I felt peace.
The camel and its jockey
Shot of the trip:
Camels around my motorcycle on the highway. On my way from Ajmer to Jaipur. The image sums up my journey in a nutshell. The ride, the road and Rajasthan.
A different trip.
Three most loved Photographs of the trip:
My top three most adored photographs from Rajasthan, each of these photos represent a facet of my journey. Not just when it comes to storytelling but also technically. Each of these photographs have hours of effort behind them and also more technique has been used compared to any average image.
Aamer. Sam and sand. Kumbhalgarh.
Best biker moment:
Looking at the road end and sand begin.
Final Haul home!
After about seven hours of riding through the morning and afternoon I had crossed into Gujarat and was soon closing on my night halt for the day – Ankleshwar. The town of Ankleshwar is built around industry and also happened to be my rest stop at the beginning of this ride. As I approached the town on my motorcycle I got stuck in a traffic jam! On the six lane highway, it was a situation I’d never been in. After about half an hour and probably moving only about ten meters forward, I decided to turn around on the same road and get off the highway. Yes it was dangerous but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. I rode on the wrong side of the road for a kilometer or so and reached an exit. Then I managed to find my way through another town which lay adjacent to Ankleshwar.
They say that everything happens for a reason and it’s true. As I rode through this unknown town towards Ankleshwar, I found myself at the start of a long and narrow bridge which stood over a wide river which I had to cross. The evening traffic was so much that I was literally wiggling my way through. As I rolled on to the bridge, a perfect and round golden yellow almost orange Sun greeted me to my right. Its reflection off the river was relaxing to say the least. I wanted to stop right there and click some pictures but there was absolutely no space and the traffic behind me was menacing. I had no choice but to store the memory in my head and move on. Just that bit of beauty was enough to take away the pain of my now eight hour long motorcycle ride out of Udaipur.
I was on my way home now. I stayed the night in a hotel and then pushed my bikes’ performance to the limit for the home run. She was close to seizing up, my motorcycle, I could feel it. An 8AM cold start is the last thing I wanted for her straining engine but we now had to crank it up and get home. On the highway again and racing towards the outskirts of Mumbai and Thane, we hardly took any stops. My mind was alight with questions about whether we’ll reach home on our own steam. I kept the throttle jammed open, the motorcycle responded like she knew what were trying to do, get home.
My motorcycle knew the fact that the trip was over and this was the most important part. Getting home often is. She probably knew that the only place she’d get the attention she deserved would be at the workshop in Pune and so we cracked on through the mid day sun. Soon we crossed into Maharashtra and then by noon reached the turnoff to Pune.
I stopped for lunch and also to give my motorcycle one final cooling rest before we hauled it to Pune. After lunch, getting back on the bike, I told her not to give up on me on this absolute last leg of 200 kilometers. It’d be a pity if we couldn’t get home now. These roads were known to the both of us, the team of man and motorcycle soldiered on till we reached the outskirts of Pune. One final water stop marked the end of my ride to Rajasthan. I was home.
At that overwhelming moment, what it felt like cannot be put in words. It was my longest ever solo motorcycle ride. An overall distance of about 5000 kilometers of motorcycling, tourism, photography and an experience of a lifetime had been achieved.
Just like Rana Pratap’s horse, Chetak, my motorcycle got me home and then proceeded to get herself to the workshop. Only then did she let her condition take the better of her. She’d gone through a lot, the desert heat, the grains of sand and my constant whims. It had been an epic challenge for her too. What a machine! What a personality and how amazing that she understood her rider just the way he was. The Marauder!
The places I missed:
Yes, believe it or not, there are a lot of places I didn’t visit on this trip. Rajasthan is huge and trust me when I say it is worth spending a sizable part of one’s life here. Each corner has it’s own story, it’s own people and it’s own shade of sand. When you go, keep in mind these places that I didn’t get a chance to go to.
Why didn’t I go?
Time was a major reason for skipping places like Bikaner and Alwar. Sometimes it so happened that I found out about a place only after I’d passed it, like Bundi and Gagaria. Rajasthan is like a big bundle of surprises, each place you go to can hide amazing sights which someone in a hurry may never uncover. The step wells in Jodhpur make up one such site. I only found out about them just before leaving. Thanks to my friend Oindrila Mukherjee – an avid traveller, I can share a few pictures which will demonstrate what a beautiful place I missed not to mention a fantastic photo-opportunity.
Photographs by Oindrila Mukherjee.
The thing is, it’s sometimes okay not to have seen a place in its entirety. For me personally I try to explore for myself as much as I can but then again – I’m the imperfect traveller. These places I’ve missed just make sure that one day I will head back. Because I’ve fallen in love with the land.
Rajasthan limit ends.
For more pictures: Click here.
In this article:
Number of nights: Ankleshwar = 1.
Distance travelled: Udaipur – Akleshwar – Pune = 860 kms.
Motorcycle condition: She survived! We did it. Crank assembly changed, block-piston kit changed, complete engine and mechanical overhaul done.
People I thank:
The Firelords, Pune – A motorcycle owners’ club of sorts.
Nathu ji – Musician.
Mr Madhav Singh Rajpurohit, Staff at Hotel Madhav Paradise.
Mr Hariram Bhopa, Mr Kadam Singh – RTDC, Mr Etienne ‘Suryaneel’ Lauth, Mr Bismillah Khan and troupe, Sultan Bhai – Camel herder, staff at RTDC Moomal.
Mr Pankaj Srivastava – Punjab National Bank, Mr Kishor Kumar – RTDC, staff at RTDC Ghoomar, Bansiraam – folk musician, Mrs Laali Mukherjee.
Mrs Geetam Saxena. Staff at RTDC Sarover – Pushkar.
Mr Ajay Saxena – RTDC. Staff at RTDC Teej.
Manager – RTDC Panna, RTDC staff at the Chittaurgarh fort.
Mr Narayan. Staff at RTDC Kajri.
Some travel for pleasure, some for adventure. Some go for others, I go for me.
Part 7 of Rooh – E – Rajasthan.
To read part 6 – Click here.
To read part 5 – Click here.
To read part 4 – Click here.
To read part 3 – Click here.
To read part 2 – Click here.
To read part 1 – Click here.
Water. Wealth. Wonderful.
An easy and fulfilling ride along the smooth National Highway 76 brought me to the lake City of Rajasthan. Udaipur is a city with an open heart and welcomes everyone inbound with arms wide open. As you roll in, everything is where it needs to be. Even the people are helpful. Udaipur was to be my last stop. On this personal milestone of a trip, Rooh – E – Rajasthan, Udaipur was the last bastion of tourism I was to experience before turning that wheel towards home. It was symbolic of many things, this city of Udaipur.
As far as my motorcycle was concerned, she had gone into what seemed like a trance. She had made peace with her flailing condition and was bashing on regardless. She was surviving the length of the trip after all!
Getting back to the ride, the highway led me straight into the city and almost suddenly I found myself in local city traffic. You know, the kind where the breeze of the highway leaves your side and is replaced by the warmer city air, with that slight tinge of diesel. People on two wheelers are riding to and from work and the three-wheeled tempos are out to take over the world.
This time, my RTDC (Rajasthan Tourism Development Corporation) home was a really good one. Well, compared to the rest I’d stayed at. In Udaipur, nothing is cheap. Thanks to RTDC I had awesome accommodation at a manageable price. Otherwise, the good hotels of Udaipur are known to be monumentally expensive.
I settled in, sorted myself for a four night stay and sat down for lunch. This was a busy place, the restaurant was abuzz with travellers, much a contrast from my previous destination Chittaurgarh. Food was laid out on one side with almost every table in the room full to its capacity. This told me something about Udaipur. Either the city is really something, that makes everyone want to be here or it has a pseudo charm like Mount Abu. I was counting on the former, bear in mind, I had seen nothing of Udaipur yet.
After lunch I put in some time and reorganized all my luggage and data. I recharged and cleaned my camera gear for the upcoming five day exposure to Udaipur’s charms.
Come evening, I was hungry to have a look around Udaipur. Kick starting the bike I dove deep into the city. Within 10 minutes, I found myself bang in the middle of the city markets. I took a lot of wrong turns and it took me a while to break into the city’s narrow streets and crowded ethos. I rode towards the famous Lake Pichola, home of the Taj Lake Palace Hotel. The hotel is a white palatial building in the middle of the Lake. Known for its overly luxurious stays and cuisine, any luxury travel mag doing a feature on Rajasthan will have the Taj’s lavish rooms in it.
The Jag Mandir palace.
As I made my way, the city was revealed to me. Udaipur sits amidst the hills and is blessed with lakes between its pockets of population. At the banks of the Lake Pichola, a guide told me some facts about the lake and the hotel. Also, the Jag Mandir palace stood in the middle of the lake. It is essentially a pleasure palace. The kings would treat it as their summer resort or use it for throwing parties. Sadly, on this day, the lake was closed to common folk. Because madam Shakira was to perform for a businessman’s birthday bash which was being held on the Jag Mandir island complex. Preparations were on full swing with rigging crews all over the lake putting up fireworks.
This was my first clue about the reality of Udaipur.
Not being able to get onto the water and photograph the evening Sun was a huge turn off for my excitement. No matter, my guide took me to a place from where he thought I would get a good shot of the lake. It was a garden up on a small hill but the problem was it’s foliage. The trees restricted me from getting a clear shot. Here’s where my second clue about Udaipur came to light. When you’re here, don’t take a guide. The information you are given is sketchy to say the least. Although they mean well, the guides seldom realize themselves that they are wasting a tourist’s time and money actually. I made my way back to my hotel through the various city streets yet again. I wasn’t all that happy to be honest. Hope was that Udaipur would be the cherry on the icing for my trip.
Edge of understanding.
Though there was still a lot to see around Udaipur. Slowly I was realizing that Udaipur was a city of money, for money and probably even run because of money. The class difference was apparent in the tourism of the town itself. Up until now Rajasthan and its destinations had offered to me a lot of substance. Not just history but a lot more to take home in my head. Udaipur, though it has the history if you’re interested, will first give you the golden handshake. This place does not embrace its past, it uses its past.
I managed to reach my hotel just before dusk, called for my tea and started talking to the people at the hotel about the avenues for exploration around here. As I spoke to the hotel staff about the city, everyone from the waiter to the manager agreed with me when I mentioned my first impression. Realizing that I wasn’t all too interested in staring at the city’s facade, everyone gave me suggestions as to what I may like. My waiter gave me the best advice, he told me to head out of Udaipur itself. Soon, I had a plan, an ambiguous one but a direction to head into nonetheless.
The plan went into action that very evening. I head out into the city again, reached one of its star restaurants and found myself a table. This restaurant was touted as one of the best owing to its panoramic view of the Lake Pichola. Just for fun, I won’t tell you the name of the restaurant. Rest assured, some digging on your part when you’re in Udaipur will land you at this waters edge bistro. The prices here are high and the food is ordinary. It’s the view they charge you for.
The Udaipur City Palace and The Taj Lake Palace.
The view was good indeed, one could see the Taj Lake Palace Hotel and the Udaipur City Palace in all their glory and on this night, the lighting for the upcoming concert was being tested – that added major drama to some of my photographs. What an evening it turned out to be! So many people came up to me in this outdoor setting and asked me about most things under the sun. Right from my photography to my travels, even the motorcycle caught their attention. After about an hour of shooting and talking with strangers, I sat down at my table for dinner. Here too, the waiter serving me had his own questions about my journey. He kept me company and made sure there was never a dull moment during dinner. Those of you who actually do manage to find this restaurant, you’ll like the vibe it offers.
I got lost in the city a couple of times while on my way back to the RTDC hotel. It was late and I too took my own sweet time finding my way. There was something about Udaipur which I hadn’t felt in any other city. Being in Udaipur felt like walking on a heavily trodden grassy path which gives way to mud because of the sheer use of its presence. That’s what Udaipur truly felt like to me – an overused city. What caused it to be overused and how, that was still a vague question and I had some time to figure it out.
Night was peaceful and the next morning came with me waking up early and chalking out the days tourism. Udaipur woke me up with a calm caress. Chirping birds and whistling winds made my morning real pleasant. I walked out into my balcony and tried shooting some birds and squirrels, all while sipping on tea.
Good morning Udaipur!
Tea, was now one of the most important things in my life. For that matter, almost every biker/traveller will tell you that tea is what makes the journey that much more awesome. Each cup tastes different, the aroma of the hot golden potion is different in every land. And that my friends is the only second reason a biker stops on the side of the road to take a break. Tea is also sometimes the sole reason for a trip, it’s that important to us motorcycle boys.
Day one: Saas – Bahu Temples.
This day, I booked myself a cab. I wanted to give my motorcycle a little r and r before we made our way back home, a journey of over 800 kilometers. A car arrived and for the first time on this entire trip, I had the luxury of keeping my camera gear off my shoulders. I was paying through my nose for the exclusive cab but I knew, in the long run, it’d be worth it. My first destination were some temples a little distance away from the city of Udaipur. A small village called Nagda was our first stop. The temples, known as Saas – Bahu (or mother-in-law – daughter-in-law) temples, were a rather inspiring place to start off my photography.
Interior of one of the temples.
This temple complex, although small, has the power to get your creative juices flowing. Dedicated to the Lord Vishnu, these medieval buildings inspire intrigue with their mind numbing architecture. The carvings and sculptures here are so very detailed that it’s easy to get lost standing in one spot. Everywhere you look, inside or outside, the place and its intricacies are mesmerizing. It is a peaceful place to spend some time, if you have it.
The temples and the lawns.
The light here is another brilliant companion to any photo maker. Take my word for it, the illumination on the heavily carved stone is almost intoxicating. This was the first place I’d visited and already I wished I’d brought my motorcycle. What pictures I could have made!
You could get lost standing in one spot.
The town of Nagda is also home to a much revered Temple of Eklingji. A place where they don’t let even cellphone cameras inside. A place like that has no room for someone like me I think, so I did not go in. Those with a religious bent might not want to do the same. If you don’t mind heading in without your camera, do go and check it out. To some, this temple complex is an architectural marvel. To me unfortunately, like the Dilwara Temple at Mount Abu, this too had to become a missed destination.
The Eklingji Temple entrance.
From Nagda, my driver and I made our way to the famous Haldighati, a historical battleground. Haldighati is named so because the color of the mud here resembles the color of turmeric, for which the Hindi word is Haldi. This mountain pass was made famous by the battle of Haldighati between Rana Pratap and the Mughal Army of Emperor Akbar. Many a story hail from that very battle but one of the most compelling is the story of Chetak – the king’s horse.
The road to Haldighati.
Chetak was the beloved horse of Rana Pratap. It is this horse which carried an injured Pratap out of the battlefield despite it’s own injured leg. It is said that Chetak displayed unparalleled loyalty to his master and carried him a great distance on his three legs, only after he found that the Maharana was safe did he breath his last. Today, there stands a tomb dedicated to the royal horse, still lending glory to its supreme sacrifice. Known as the Chetak Chabutra or the Chetak Smark, it stands close to a local museum, which is dedicated to the story of Maharana Pratap of Mewar.
The Chetak Chabutra.
This museum, though highly informative, is a very crude rendition of the story of Pratap. If you know the story, I’d suggest you skip the trip here. Go only if you have kids, they might enjoy it.
The Rana Pratap museum.
That was day one. I came back to Udaipur quite tired from all the sight seeing and story studying. In the night I head out into the city to see if there was a place from where I could capture some sort of nightscape. I spent about an hour on the road inside the city but couldn’t find any good spot to set up. To be honest I did get some mediocre shots of the promenade but the city failed to please my senses on this night.
I found myself a posh looking restaurant and settled for dinner. Payed a bomb for some mediocre food and left. Sleept like a log.
Day two: Out of the city again.
This day was to see me heading out of Udaipur again. This is true about Udaipur, there is more to see outside and around the city that inside its limits. Sure you have the Udaipur City Palace and the sound and light show there. There is also a temple up high on a hill near Lake Pichola but that’s about it. You have to head out to really enjoy what Udaipur has to offer. Since I also could not afford the luxuries of a five star and a ‘royal experience’ at one of the poshest hotels in the country, I head out. Again, I had booked myself a cab.
On this day, Mr Narayan – the owner of the cab company volunteered to drive me. He told me that he heard my story from his driver the previous day and wanted to meet me. He said ‘mai har uss aadmi se minla chahata hoon jisse mai kuch seekh sakta hoon’ or ‘I want to meet all the people from whom I can learn something’. I was flattered by this statement of his. Believe you me, our drive towards Kumbhalgarh fort was anything but mundane. Thanks to both our talkative personas, we kept jabbering our way through the afternoon drive.
The drive from Udaipur to Kumbhalgarh Fort revealed to me the green Rajasthan. 70 odd kilometers of country roads show you the agricultural side of Rajasthan. Lined with fields all through the roads to this old fort are a treat, not all that smooth but when you’re in India a road with potholes is just fine. This particular stretch of road is known to wind through some tribal dominated territory. They say one shouldn’t venture out alone all the way to Kumbhalgarh. It is a common practice that groups of vehicles travel in a cavalcade along this route.
Rajasthan and agriculture.
One crosses some hills and forests on the way and the tribals have been known to pelt stones on passing vehicles, amongst other things. Well, Mr Narayan and I were so busy talking that we didn’t even realize that time had flown by and we we staring at the Kumbhalgarh fort in the distance.
It’s stunning. From a distance of about 5 kilometers, you can see the length of the fort wall across the frame of your vision. Amidst green hills and atop one of its own, stands Kumbhalgarh – The sentinel of Mewar.
We reached the fort a little before sunset. This light was perfect for taking pictures. We were also in time for the sound and light show which was held here everyday after sundown. I bought our tickets and we proceeded inside the fort walls.
Slowly our climb began. Mr Narayan and I hired a guide who told us about the fort while we climbed up. I knew nothing about Kumbhalgarh before this day. The only reason I found myself here was that I was advised by my hotel staff to check this place out. Like most forts in Rajasthan, the Kumbhalgarh too was perched atop a hill. They say the walls of this fort stretch for a whole 36 kilometers around the structure! Huge! At vantage points, one can see the Aravalli hills stretch for miles and miles around this fort. Catching your breath is a pleasurable affair atop Kumbhalgarh.
Climbing to the top.
Kumbhalgarh is important. It was built by Rana Kumbha of Mewar, hence the name. Also, this fort was the birthplace of Maharana Pratap, the warrior king of Haldighati fame. Another fact about the Kumbhalgarh fort is that it sits on this hill dividing the kingdoms or Marwar (Jodhpur) and Mewar (Chittaurgarh). The Fort also plays an important role in the formative history of Rajasthan. Kumbhalgarh provided refuge to prince Udai who was smuggled here by Panna Dhai when Chittaurgarh was under siege. Later, Udai took the throne post which he founded the city of Udaipur.
Marwar and Mewar.
Thanks to the long drive from Udaipur, by the time we reached the top of the fort, the sun was just setting. We stayed put for a while and watched the sun go down. It is here that the fort of Kumbhalgarh played an interesting part in my personal journey.
Sunset at Kumbhalgarh.
As I stood atop the highest pavilion and shot the sunset with my camera, a happy group of Israeli tourists joined me. We got talking about my camera and travel, made friends and the rest is history. The sun set and all of us made our way down to the foot of the fort. It was during our little downward trek that my friends and I really connected. It was time now for the sound and light show, I told my new found friends about the show and some of them joined us as we watched.
Sound and light magic.
The sound and light show here starts right after sunset and takes one through Rana Kumbha’s life and trials. As you sit facing the fifteen feet thick fort wall, the fort lights up all the way to the top and keeps one gripped as a voice narrates its history. The stories connects across the sands right from Udaipur to Chittaurgarh and Jaisalmer.
The Kumbhalgarh Fort and the Milky Way galaxy.
After the show, my friends and I decided to meet for dinner back at Udaipur. That sounded like a plan! Though something still needed doing before I left Kumbhalgarh.
Before we left Kumbhalgarh, I still had a couple of shots to get. Mr Narayan knew a spot a little distance from the fort from where he thought I would get my perfect shots. I was taken there and yes! I set up and 30 minutes later, I had my shots. Check them out below.
Kumbhalgarh and its unique stance.
A unique photograph I have to say. The area around the fort is completely unpopulated, hence, there is no stray light here. The dark you see around the fort has not been processed into it. It actually was that dark! The Kumbhalgarh Fort stands out at night like a golden crown atop the Aravalli hills. Beautiful.
The second shot is what I call a mini star trail. Owing to the lack of time, I could not go all out and shoot a longer exposure. Thanks to the threat of leopards and foxes in the dark, we had to get a move on.
The mini star trail, Milky Way lighting up the sky.
Yet again, the drive back saw Mr Narayan and I conversing about the day’s experiences. Everything from my photographic aims to our newly made friends were part of our banter. A pleasant drive reached us back to Udaipur at around 10 pm. I was in the groove this evening, it had been a stellar day. I backed up the shots I had taken and got my gear ready for the next day’s shooting. Soon, I got a call from Amit, my Israeli friend. Our dinner plan was a go. At about 10:30pm I roared out into the Udaipur night.
Finally, all of us had the time to sit back and talk. They were a big group of about 6 to 8 travellers, we got talking. I, for one, was fascinated by Israel and its people – I always had been. I kept throwing question after question at them and they kindly tried replying to each one. I even learnt a little Hebrew! (swear words!) Next morning too, we met up for breakfast and the banter continued. I tried out an Israeli breakfast dish too. Called ‘shakshuka’, it’s made of tomato and a host of other veggies. Thanks to my new friends, I was now considering Israel as my next big travel destination. They have good motorcycles there, a brilliant coastline and I’ll bring my camera. Sounded like the perfect winter destination. Here’s hoping!
Here & now though, plans were being made for the day’s travel at Udaipur. There is so much you can do when you’re in a group I tell you!
Day three: Lake Jaisamand.
We decided we would all head to Jaisamand Lake, a suggestion made by Mr Narayan the previous day. An hour’s drive away from Udaipur city, Jaisamand is by far the most beautiful lake around. It is a huge water body, apparently unpolluted too. It is also Asia’s largest artificial lake, built by Rana Jai Singh of Udaipur.
Our drive to the lake was fun as all of us, including our chauffeur Mr Narayan (again!), were cracking jokes and talking about our travels all along. All the bumps along the road were levelled out by our spirited banter. We reached the banks of the lake a little before sunset, perfect timing if you ask me. Also, all of us were game for a nice, long boat ride across the lake. I too was eager to shoot some portraits of my friends. We negotiated the price for a boat ride with the boatmen and then set off. On the boat, we had along with us a few school children, interestingly, they lived on an island village in the middle of the lake! We wanted to check out the village too and the boatmen obliged us.
Afloat on an artificial lake.
A thirty minute boat ride saw us chug across the pristine waters of the Jaisamand Lake. Everywhere I looked, it was a picture perfect scene. The sun was going down behind the hills as we reached the village.
This was an interesting village, water locked but apparently self sufficient. They had agriculture, dairy, accommodation and satellite TV! What was more interesting though was the fascination with village life visible amongst my fellow travellers. They were loving it.
The light was now slightly lesser and so I started bumping up the ISO in all of my photographs. Grains came and made a nest in my camera’s sensor. The pleasure of being here was so intense though, that I didn’t mind. I was also mindful that we were nearing the end, my Tour-de-Sand was about to finish.
Jaisamand lake is a good place to take pictures all through the day. Even after the sun goes down!
This day was my last day in Udaipur. It was also my last day in Rajasthan because come morning, I would don my helmet and ride out. Ride out of Rajasthan.
Calm waters of the Jaisamand Lake.
We set off again in our red boat, heading back to the shore. It was time for some portraits! The girls were obviously my first choice but the guys were awesome too!
In this photo: Marsim Cassar.
The drive back to Udaipur was calm. The wind was cool, night was dark and our spirits were high. Somewhere inside though, I felt sad. I had already begun saying my goodbyes to this beautiful land in my mind. Every second that I was here, in my head, I was reliving the moments I’d spent in Rajasthan. The dark drive served me well and in the haze of oncoming headlights I was able to zone out and recap the events of the past months escapades. I felt sad about leaving but I felt wonderful about being here. It was only natural, I had spent a month away from home and on the roads of Rajasthan.
In this photo: Friends (L to R) – Amit Maoz, Tsion Abu, Amit Feldman, Lia Hibner, Marsim Cassar.
Back at Udaipur, we dropped everyone and then I was dropped too. I bid goodbye to our trusty Mr Narayan and then head upstairs to pack. The evening wasn’t over though, my friends and I still had to take that one photograph of all of us together and dinner of course! My last night in Udaipur, I head out again. All of us met up and shared dinner and then it was time to leave.
At this point I must mention, Udaipur had been the most unique destination of all the places I’d been to in Rajasthan. The first couple of days were a real turn off for me personally. It felt like it was all about the money in Udaipur and it was. With the countless luxury hotels and everything here revolving around them, I was quite grumpy till I set out for Kumbhalgarh.
Travellers of a feather.
Much like history itself, the Fort of Kumbhalgarh played a vital part in my endeavor too. It was in Kumbhalgarh that I met my new friends, it was there that the turn around took place. Udaipur had gone from being a budget travellers’ disappointment to a motorcycle traveller’s delight. All because of people like Mr Narayan and others who made me feel at home. Once again I realized, not every place is made by its sights. A place is good because of the good people you meet there. I considered myself monumentally lucky as in this lake city, time and money, both have to be on your side. I had some time and not much money but thanks to the people I met, coming here was well worth it.
Near the end here, Udaipur finally did make its way to the top as the perfect end to my time in Rajasthan. I left with a smile.
It’s not over yet!
Read on! – My journey home!
For more pictures from Udaipur: Click here.
In this article:
Number of nights: Udaipur – 4.
Distance travelled: Chittaurgarh – Udaipur – Kumbhalgarh – Udaipur – Jaisamand Lake – Udaipur. = 375 kms.
Motorcycle condition: The real question is, can she survive the ride home?
Next destination: My journey home! (Click here to read)
Tales from beyond the sands of time – Chittaurgarh.
Part 6 of Rooh – E – Rajasthan.
To read part 5 – Click here.
To read part 4 – Click here.
To read part 3 – Click here.
To read part 2 – Click here.
To read part 1 – Click here.
History, is me.
By the time I reached the outskirts of this underexposed historical town, it was mid afternoon. The sun was right on top and bearing down with all its heat. Turning off the National Highway towards Chittaur was like exiting a party. The moment I was off, the rush of vehicles at high speed vanished. So did the smooth road actually. My first obstacle was a railway crossing. I had been standing there for quite a while waiting for the train to cross. Which it hadn’t, so I dismounted and stretched my legs. The train was nowhere to be seen.
The locals and I got talking. I broke the ice by asking them the way to the RTDC (Rajasthan Tourism Development Corporation) Chittaur hotel. They gave me a general direction and then came back with questions of their own. Was my bike a bullet? Where was I coming from? What was I up to? And the most common of them all in India, what mileage did my motorcycle give me?
The train arrived in the midst of our banter as two or three strangers looked my bike over. I was resting against the bonnet of a truck as the cargo train passed the railway barricading ever so slowly. In a minute, I saddled up and got ready for my last little haul into Chitttaurgarh. A full thirteen kilometers of searching, stopping and asking for directions finally brought me to the unassuming gate of the RTDC Panna hotel here. This RTDC hotel looked as barren as the city. It was a Sunday and so all the shops were closed too. A vibe similar to Barmer prevailed over the entire city.
I got myself in to the hotel and settled in. 300 kilometers of highway riding hadn’t exhausted me enough I thought and decided that I might as well take an afternoon round around the city. I was only going to be here three nights so I felt the need to make the most of it. The hotel manager too, had started identifying with my adventurous streak. In his typical small town way, he told me that he was impressed. All over again I was humbled by this strangers’ praise. I realized how many people actually wanted to go out and do something like this but thanks to the rut of life, they didn’t.
My afternoon ride took me through random empty streets of Chittaur. I didn’t really see much. The heat was so oppressive that soon I decided that I’d rather take a nap, recharge myself and then hit the streets with the right verve. I over slept.
The next morning started early, with me heading out early enough to check out the Chittaurgarh Fort. Really the only true reason for me to visit this town. The Chittaurgarh Fort is not only a historical madhouse of information for seekers but also has a lot more to its credit. In terms of sheer size, it is probably the largest single fortified structure in India. As you close in, crossing the river Berach, the scale of this extraordinary building reveals itself. I stopped dead in my tracks, pulled out the camera and tried, in vain, to capture the fort’s length. This was the first time on this trip that I felt out of my depth, photographically. The size of the fort was just too big for my camera and skill. The time of day wasn’t helping either, there was a faint haze blocking the clear view of the fort. I had no choice but to move on into the fort and start exploring.
I rode on up into the fort walls and through the gates, something which I had now gotten used to. Each Rajasthani fort had it’s characteristic entrance gates. In Chittaur however, a paved road led through these gates into the fort premises, I rode my bike all the way into the center of the fort. This fort is at an elevation of about 500 feet from sea level and one can feel the temperature change slightly. At first, I couldn’t figure out what I was to do next. Yes I wanted to see the sights here but I didn’t know where they were. I took a full round of the fort on my motorcycle after which I found a ticket counter which had a map of the fort on it. That’s when I got my bearing. Honestly, I was still overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the structure.
I spoke to the people at the ticket counter for a while. Looking at their expressions I could instantly make out their assumptions about the kind of tourist I was. Three people were really interested in telling me about where the most interesting bits of the fort are and so I listened to them.
The Chittaurgarh Fort:
Apart from its size, this fort has an abundance of stories within its mammoth walls. The fort is believed to be named after the Mauryan ruler Chitrangada Mori. For 800 years, Chittaur was the capital of Mewar and all through that period and beyond, the Rajput warriors of Chittaur painted an unsettling and moving picture. Death before defeat was their resolve. More than a few times this fort has seen defeat in its history. Yet, the lore of the men, women and children who hailed from this land never once fails to inspire awe.
As I spent time in the fort, three stories came up in front of me again and again. The tales of Mirabai, Queen Padmini and Panna Dhai. These were stories which, in a short while, made me realise the importance of Chittaur in Rajasthan’s history.
Mirabai’s time at Chittaur was as the wife of Rana Kumbha. She was a devout follower of Lord Krishna and considered herself to be the wife of Krishna, hence she wasn’t too happy with her marriage. After Rana Kumbha’s death, she completely gave into her devotion to Krishna. She is believed to have spent her last years as a pilgrim at Dwarka but none really know where she disappeared.
The Mirabai temple:
This is a beautiful temple dedicated to the saint-poet. Standing close to the Kirti Stambh, it is one of the most beautiful temples in Chittaur. In the early morning light, the intricate architecture gleams with unparalleled brilliance. Inside the temple, a representation of Meera, praying to her Lord Krishna, has been established.
The Kirti Stambh:
The Mira Temple and Kirti Stambh, in the morning (left) and just before sunset (right).
The Kirti Stambh is a 12th century monument, built by a Jain merchant. It stands close to the Mira Temple and is a beautiful piece of architecture, just like the Mira Temple itself. Both these monuments stand together in perfect accompaniment.
The Rajput men chose to charge out of the walls of this fort into the enemy. Fighting to the last breath, preferring to die fighting than to accept defeat and live a life after surrender. This deeply ingrained Rajput trait leads on to another sorrowfully amazing tale of the women and children of Chittaur. Jauhar.
An ancient Indian practice of divine self immolation, performed by women and children of a particular Rajput clan, in the face of defeat of the defending army. It is often a common assumption that the act of Jauhar involved only the women and children of the kingdom but the truth is that Jauhar involved the Rajput warriors of the army as well. When it was eminent that defeat was inevitable, the women inside the fort performed Jauhar, after which the men charged out into the enemy committing Saka. Preferring to die fighting over enduring defeat.
Dusk over the fort.
At Chittaur, Jauhar was performed a total of three times over it’s history. First by Rani Padmini and then the second by Rani Karnavati and finally the third when Chittaurgarh Fort was besieged by Emperor Akbar.
Rani Padmini and the Padmini Palace:
Queen Padmini was considered the epitome of beauty in her time. Wife of the then commander of the Chittaurgarh Fort, Rana Rawal Ratan Singh, the stories of her beauty had transcended kingdoms. It was inevitable that the lure of her beauty caught the Mughal ruler Allauddin Khilji’s attention. Driven by his lust, he marched towards Chittaur to secure her as his queen.
Here is where an interesting tale begins, Khilji saw the brilliantly guarded Chittaurgarh fort and decided that he would try and acquire Rani Padmini without conflict. Khilji’s army was deterrent enough. He sent a message to the Rana that he considered Padmini his sister and wanted to see her. Looking at the Mughal army, the unsuspecting Rana Rawal Ratan Singh gave in to Khilji’s demand of getting a look at his wife, Queen Padmini. In those times, this was a rather shameful occurrence and hence Khilji was only allowed to see the queen in a mirror. Smitten by her beauty, he decided that he would not leave Chittaur without her as his queen.
Later, when the Rana went upto the outer limits of the fort to see off Khilji, he was arrested by Khilji’s soldiers and held in captivity. Queen Padmini soon got the message that she was now required to leave with Allauddin Khilji as his wife and that her husband was under captivity.
Enraged, she decided she would have none of it. In a brilliant countermeasure to Khilji’s deceit, Rani Padmini and the Rana’s men came up with an ingenious plan. In over a hundred palanquins, hid Rajput warriors, masquerading as the queen’s maids. They made their way to the Mughal army camp and attacked the camp, freed Rana Rawal Ratan Singh and brought him back to the security of the Chittaurgarh fort.
In the ensuing aftermath, Allauddin Khilji’s army laid siege to the fort but could not beat the fort’s defenses. Khilji kept up his unrelenting battle with the Rajput army until the fort’s supplies perished and there was no chance of a victory for the Rajputs of Chittaur. At this juncture, it was decided that the Rajput warriors would commit Saka, they would charge into the enemy and fight until death. Hearing this Queen Padmini and the Rajput women decided to commit Jauhar.
After the battle was over, all that Khilji’s lust driven army found upon entering the Chittaurgarh fort were burnt and charred remains of the women and children of Chittaur.
The Padmini Palace is a white building which still stands today. There are gardens to welcome you as one approaches the main complex. The room with the mirrors, where Allauddin Khilji saw queen Padmini, is open to the public and one can even see those very mirrors, they still hang from the ceiling today.
By far one of the most poignant stories from the land of Chittaur. Panna Dhai’s tale of sacrifice still manages to bring a tear to the eyes of many a mother today.
A 16th century Rajput woman, Panna was the nursemaid to Udai Singh (later, the founder of Udaipur, son of Sangram Singh). The word ‘Dhai’ in her name stands for wet nurse, she had been given charge of Udai Singh from his early childhood.
Chittaur. A historical panorama.
The story begins when Banbir, an exiled cousin of Udai Singh was appointed as regent of the kingdom keeping in light the arrest of Vikramaditya II. Banbir, who considered himself to be the rightful heir to the throne knew the time was right to act. He assassinated Vikramaditya II and was on his way to assassinate the already asleep 14 year old Udai Singh (the Maharana-elect), whose existence was the only barrier between Banbir and the throne of Mewar.
A servant hurriedly informed Panna of Banbir’s doings, Panna understood what Banbir was planning and told the servant to smuggle Udai Singh, the Maharana-elect, out of the Chittaurgarh fort. She instructed the servant to wait for her at a rendezvous point near the river. As the young Udai Singh was taken away from the fort, Panna placed her own son in Udai Singh’s bed and covered him. In time Banbir burst into the room and inquired about Udai Singh, she pointed at the bed where her son lay asleep, only to watch her own son being killed at the hands of Banbir.
Panna left the fort after her son’s hurried cremation and retook charge of Udai Singh from the servant, out by the river. Here began an epic trek for the duo who were only given proper refuge at the fort of Kumbhalgarh. Years later, Maharana Udai Singh went back to Chittaurgarh and assumed the throne.
A heroic feat of sacrifice and loyalty to the throne was showcased by Panna. But for her, the city of Udaipur (later founded by Maharana Udai Singh) would never have existed.
The Vijay Stambh or the Tower of Victory:
This unique structure stands in the midst of some temples at the top of the fort. Built to celebrate victory over the ruler Mahmud Khilji by Rana kumbha, it is intriguing to say the least. The carvings on the inside and out are so very intricate that one can spend minutes just staring at a single part of this nine story tower.
For a fee of INR 5, one is allowed to venture inside the tower. Fair warning, this venture is not suited for people who suffer from claustrophobia. There is no room for two way pedestrian traffic inside. At some points the climb is pretty precarious, especially for me as I was carrying my hefty camera bag on my back. Getting shots was tough and so my trusty ultra wide angle lens came to the fore. Inside the tower, it is dark, dingy and well, stinky. There is constant movement of people and hence the 157 step climb from bottom to top is not all that easy. At the top though a big and windy room awaits you, I can’t say the view is panoramic because it’s blocked by the carvings on the windows but I’d still say it was worth it.
View from the top.
After my descent, I spent the entire evening in the Vijay Stambh complex. The complex is also home to a few other Jain temples apart from the Stambh itself. The complex is also home to the Gaumukh (Hindi for: cow’s mouth) reservoir, this water body is fed by a natural spring, which flows through a carved cow’s mouth in the rocks, hence the name. During the various sieges the Chittaurgarh Fort endured, this water body was the primary source of fresh water for the population.
The GauMukh reservoir and the Vijay Stambh complex.
This complex is also home to numerous Langoor monkeys. If you’re ever bored, just sit down and observe these ultra happy and inquisitive creatures jump around. Keep a close watch on your belongings though!
Sundown with the Langoor monkeys.
Also, this is a brilliant place to watch the sun go down, especially after a hard day’s tourism.
My second day in Chittaurgarh was reserved for riding about inside the fort in the day and the sound and light show in the evening. Early morning went by as I sipped my tea and felt the fresh morning air of this town. Two nights that I had spent here hadn’t revealed much about the town itself.
To me, it felt like all the sacrifice and bloodshed over those olden ages still had some sort of bearing on this place. Chittaurgarh, seemed to me like a stoic town, not reacting to my arrival in any noticeable way. I was here, studying the history as deeply as I could but there was no telling if I was actually learning anything about the place in reality.
This was also a time when I became increasingly introspective. At this point, I had spent more than three weeks on the road. A lot had had happened in my head, with it going through these myriad experiences, thumping across this sandy state. There was no homesickness, there was no longing to get back home. Even though my bike wasn’t in all that great a nick, I felt like I could survive like this for as long as I wanted. I had completely become used to being alone. Meeting and interacting only with strangers.
The making of a true traveller.
It is at times like these that I realize I’m on the right path. I know I’m made for the road, a traveller through and through. Also, someone who would be incomplete without his camera and motorcycle. So many realizations, so little time.
The mango tree above me moved with the breeze, letting a ray of early sunshine dart into my half open eyes. As if to shake me out of my trance of thoughts, the sun’s rays did well to wake me up. This was my second and last day in Chittaurgarh, most had to be made of it. So I geared up and made my way towards the fort. I entered using the same winding road which passes through the gates and reached the top quick.
A view of the city from the fort’s walls.
I still hadn’t been able to properly capture the entire length of the fort from afar. Slowly I was giving up on the idea altogether. For some reason I felt I wouldn’t be able to do justice to the real majesty of this monument. I carried on, the 13 square kilometers that the Chittaurgarh Fort is spread out over, offer a lot of space for someone who just wants to experience peace. Birds will chirp, the sun will rise, the temperature will go up and the occasional cow will moo, that’s about it. There is also an abundance of greenery up here and all over the fort, a nice contrast to the image of Rajasthan I should say.
Oh, it’s green.
The people of Chittaurgarh too had been nice to me. I was welcomed well by my RTDC caretakers and even in the town while asking directions and sipping on roadside chai, people had been polite. It had become a characteristic of the people of Rajasthan, there had not been one incident as yet on this entire trip where I’d felt I was being taken for a ride, so to speak. The cities and roads of Rajasthan had become my home and I was happy.
Chai on a Chittaur street.
Even on this day as I rode my motorcycle nonchalantly around the fort premises, I felt like I was a part of this place. An unnoticeable speck in the span of the history of this fort. Still, this place grounded me like no other I’ve ever been to. I could relate to the tales of valour, heroism and sacrifice here. The vast plains that stretched out behind the fort looked to me like chalk slates, where each ruler came and wrote his own piece over the previous one’s.
Chalk slate of Chittaur.
It was strangely beautiful, the way even the air here felt like it had a touch of the past.
Coming back to being the tourist, I had bought my ticket for the sound and light show this evening. I already knew most of what there is to know about Chittaurgarh but I felt the sound and light compilation would be a good opportunity to learn more as well as a relaxing way to spend my last evening.
Here, at Chittaurgarh, the sound and light show is managed and run by RTDC itself. Don’t be surprised if you find the goings on a little laid back. They will wait till there are at least 25 people in the stands to start the show. I find this small town bending of the rules pretty amusing, really.
Light, sound and action!
The hour long show was just perfect. All the history I had learnt about Chittaur in the past two days got woven into a fine thread. The timelines became clearer in my head. And once again, the heroism of this quaint land touched me. It’s strange that sometimes I feel I should have been born in those years to experience the history first hand. Who knows, maybe I was. I’d miss my motorcycle though!
By far the most compelling part of my time in Chittaur was when I asked the sound and light show operator a simple question. My question to him was ‘You watch this show everyday of your life, do you still like it?’ A Rajput himself, he came back with a simple reply. He said ‘Sir, I’m a Rajput. Each day while I watch this show from behind, a tear escapes my eyes and my chest fills with pride. Every time, everyday.’
And you know what, I felt what he said to me word for word. Somehow I could relate to him.
The show got over and soon the same would happen to my time in Chittaurgarh. I promised myself I would come back. For now though, Udaipur was my next port of call. A very short 115 kilometer ride was ahead of me.
Early next morning, as usual, I geared up and said my goodbyes to the RTDC friends I had made here and left. These short two days had been good. The true embrace of Rajasthan had started to take hold over me. After spending more than three weeks on the road in this state, I had found my comfort zone. I was excited thinking about what Udaipur held in store for me.
The motorcycle was straining to go beyond 100 km/h on the 100 kilometer long National Highway 76 to Udaipur but I was determined to push her. I kept the throttle jammed open all through, stopping only twice, once for a quick breakfast and the second to take a leak on the side of the road like a traditional Indian traveller. The bike was hanging in there, for the first time since Jodhpur, I felt she could pull through for the remainder of the trip. I was still keeping my fingers crossed though. I had started respecting my motorcycle’s resolve too, she deserved it.
Gaining on Udaipur!
This short 3 hour ride was filled mostly with me thinking about what Udaipur was going to be like. Udaipur is known for its luxury and well, I had been saving up all along. I couldn’t wait to get there!
For more pictures from Chittaur, Click here.
In this article:
Number of nights: Chittaurgarh – 3.
Distance travelled: Jaipur – Chittaurgarh = 320 kms.
Motorcycle condition: Misfires, slight over heating, engine noise (crank issues). She’s got guts carrying on like this! Salute!
Next destination: Udaipur, Rajasthan. (Click here to read)
Rajasthan – The Capital City.
Part 5 of Rooh – E – Rajasthan.
To read part 4 – Click here.
To read part 3 – Click here.
To read part 2 – Click here.
To read part 1 – Click here.
The capital of Rajasthan.
Entering the capital of Rajasthan was like reaching any other metropolitan city. Dug up roads, maddening rush, pollution and a whiff of what us city dwellers call life. The Marauder was clearly straining to keep up with my pace as with every twist of the throttle, she told me we needed to stop and get her checked out properly. From what I’ve noticed, it’s not just us humans who like the wide open road. Even our machines love the feeling of the wind tearing around them. The term ‘air cooled’ takes on a whole new meaning if you look at it this way. My entry into Jaipur was a little different from all the other cities I had been to.
Dusk was upon Jaipur as I rode onto its jam packed, grid locked and dug up streets. Jaipur is a huge city. It took me a whole hour to find my RTDC (Rajasthan Tourism Development Corporation) Jaipur abode, what with the various one-ways and blocked streets. That extra hour of snails pace riding had managed to break the ice between the city and I. As the sun said goodbye, I had pretty much matched the pace of Jaipur in my mind. One more thing, there was nothing here that would remind you of the desert. A two hour drive away from India’s capital city Delhi, here in Jaipur – there was no desert.
Just another metro.
The first night in Jaipur was one of those where you can’t stop thinking and sometimes forget to blink, looking up at the ceiling. Usually when too many thoughts cloud the mind, I head out on to the road with my motorcycle but here on this mammoth ride, I didn’t know what to do. Again, motivation is the key but I felt like all my trump cards had run out. Typical tourism was just not cutting it. Sleep came soon enough.
The sun was up as my eyes opened late. A pounding headache was what kept me in bed this long. I realised, it was best I take an easy day and not try anything too dramatic. The nearest coffee shop was a stone’s throw away, not that I mind the street side chai but I wanted something that reminded me of what I’m used to back home. A cappuccino in a white mug with some shabby latte’ art seemed like just the perfect fix. Like a proper city boy I pulled out my laptop and connected to the internet whilst sitting on the pseudo leather couch. Emails and notifications are what we all are used to checking but I also read up a little about Jaipur. I wondered why I wasn’t excited to check out this new city this time round, was I losing my touch? Maybe.
The state of one’s mind during travel is what defines the mood of the journey, I feel. If all is going well, even the simplest things can be a lot of fun. My motorcycle’s dwindling health was the biggest bother I had and it was eating my enthusiasm towards Jaipur. The only way I saw around it was to get her a good service here. The next day we set out in search of the elusive ‘Bullet mechanic’.
After some riding around, I found the Royal Enfield showroom. The people here were kind enough to escort me to their service station. As soon as I saw the red on grey sign board of the Royal Enfield service station, the persistent ‘sinking feeling’ in my stomach vanished. I was now sure that the problems the Marauder was facing would now be taken care of. Little did I know, that the service manager here would also tell me that nothing was wrong with my motorcycle. Frankly, the guy was just not interested in his job. There could be a million things I might be wrong about but I always know when my motorcycle is not doing well. They refused to acknowledge that there was a knock in the engine.
Royal Enfield at Jaipur.
Sadly, Jaipur too turned out to be a dud, as far as the bike was concerned. That afternoon after I had my lunch, I rode my bike to the nearest fuel station, tanked her up, parked her at the RTDC parking lot and sat down on the ground next to her.
There was a slight warm breeze ruffling the leaves of the mango tree above us and the sun shone through intermittently. The warmth of the motorcycle’s engine hit me with every current of air, the smell of oil had an eerie tang to it. Maybe it was just me I thought, maybe I was being too paranoid. I talked to my motorcycle, sitting there I told her that we had crossed the half way mark on our journey. Another 2000 odd kilometres stood between us and the completion of Rooh – e – Rajasthan.
I asked her to stand by my side the rest of the way and that we would not be able to get her rectified here. The last thing I wanted was to have some guy uninterested in his job trying to tinker with the engine. Yet again it was decided, I would ride like I would have normally and it was up to her to pull through for the entire journey. If she decided to give up on me while we were on our way, I would do what was required to get her back home safe on a truck. Until then, the mission was more important than the means.
Slowly the sun came down as the hour hand struck 5pm. That, for me is ‘get ready for sunset’ time! I sped down the road that leads to Jal Mahal, a palatial building which springs out of the middle of Maan Sagar Lake here in Jaipur. Parking for two wheelers here is relatively easy to find. There is a walkway on one side of the lake made for people with an interest for viewing the unique palace. Unfortunately, entry to the palace was closed around the time I reached but I had seen so many palaces already, I didn’t mind.
Jal Mahal during sunset.
I wanted to shoot some time-lapse footage of the lake with the suns light playing around the frame. I found myself a spot and set up. Both cameras clicking away, I was the centre of attention for more than a few passers-by. I was asked random questions by random tourists and locals alike, all in good vain of course. The short and tight conversations kept me busy and alert. Truth be told, one can never let ones guard down when travelling alone. Plus with all my equipment out and in plain sight, I was on my toes throughout.
Jal Mahal by night.
While shooting, I got a call from an old classmate who was now in Jaipur. He had seen my posts on Facebook. He asked me where I was and told me he would be there shortly. In the 30 odd minutes it took him to reach me, I suddenly went into flashback mode. Of the times that we were in school and the ones when all us kids parted ways after finishing school at Hyderabad.
Sachin Kumar, he was now a final year engineering student. He arrived, we met after about five years! We had so much to talk about that there was not a second of silence. The evening was just beginning to shape up as it became dark. Adventurous as usual, we decided that we’d ride to the top of Nahargarh Fort, at night. There we stories that this road wasn’t too good, the place was very secluded and that it was advisable to head to the place in the morning. Sachin told me that the view from the top was worth the risk. We decided to go.
As soon as I packed my gear, we topped up our tummies with some roadside grub and head to the fort. About 10 kilometres away stood the top of the Nahargarh Fort. The approach road winds through a bush and the road is not particularly smooth but in the dark with our headlights flaring, we made our way and reached the top. From here, the view of Jaipur is panoramic. The evening lights from houses and shops glimmer like a plate of sweets covered with golden foil. Oh boy was the risk worth it! Beautiful would be an understatement.
Night over Jaipur.
We spent well over an hour up there on the fort wall, looking at and shooting what was my first night panorama of the whole trip. This fort wall is quite the night spot. Youngsters come here often just to hang out and ‘chill’.
Clear skies and the Nahargarh Fort.
The night sky was clear and we were ready for some more action. From the top of the Nahargarh fort, there is a narrow winding road which leads down directly into the city. Interestingly, it is thought of as a dangerous and treacherous one as many people have lost their limbs trying to ride it. The same morning, I was told by local not to, under any circumstances, venture on to that bit of tarmac. Alas! Who could resist?
We started our motorcycles and head off towards the so called dangerous hill road. Bumpy it was but not really dangerous if you ask me. Only if you lost control of your vehicle would it be a threat and just like that we landed right in the middle of old Jaipur. Even Sachin didn’t quite know his way out of this mangled hodge podge of streets!
The rush of adrenalin from the ride was still on. We zoomed through the narrow alleyways and surely after a while of riding, the broad main roads of Jaipur revealed themselves to us. It was time for food. Both of us being hard core non-vegetarians, we went to a shanty restaurant which was anything but hygienic. Yet, the best food is often found where one dares to go. Fried chicken which could take you straight to an Angio and gravies which looked more like islands in a sea of red translucent oil were served to us. It was tasty and that’s all that mattered then. We both ate our hearts out!
After dinner, another day had come to an end. My buddy had to head back as he had classes the next day and I had to get ready for Jaipur. We said our goodbyes with a renewed promise to meet again.
Till we meet again!
Then, I set about getting my gear ready for the next day. Finally, I felt motivated enough to take on Jaipur as a tourist. The Hawa Mahal, Aamer Fort, Jantar Mantar and even the Nahargarh Fort were all on my list. There was a lot to cover and I couldn’t wait to get started.
Hawa Mahal & the true Jaipur.
As I learnt, it takes a while to get in touch with the real vibe of this city. One has to immerse the self in the history here. No doubt the city and its big buildings are good but the real Jaipur is under the surface, off the streets and beyond the present – the true Jaipur. Truth is that Jaipur didn’t always exist. It is a city made by the then Maharajah Sawai Jai Singh the second about 3 centuries ago. During that period, the actual city amongst these hills was Amber or Aamer as it is now known. Jaipur was founded by the Maharajah owing to the increasing population of Amber. It is a remarkably planned city and you’ll notice that if you look at it from a distance. Big roads and channelled buildings, more or less.
There is usually only one image which comes to mind when you talk about the Hawa Mahal and it is this:
Embrace the cliche’.
But there is a lot more to this monument than what meets the eye. Most people including the locals here will tell you that if you’ve seen the front facade of the Hawa Mahal, then you’ve seen enough but that’s far from the truth. Built by Maharaja Sawai Pratap Singh, the Hawa Mahal’s main exterior’s purpose was to enable the royal women of the kingdom to get a look at the world out side. Apart from that, the architecture and intricate latticework here is worth commending. When here, one can easily imagine how the ladies in their colourful attires must have looked on through these very jharokhas (small windows). That was a time when the system of ‘purdah’ (veil) was widely practiced among the women of India. Every palace you visit in Rajasthan will bear testament to the purdah system as there will probably be a room where the ‘palkis’ or royal carriages will be displayed. The palkis were carriages designed for the royal women to move around in, without being seen by regular folk.
A typical jharokha.
One enters the Hawa Mahal from the rear. A nominal fee is charged to tourists for touring the Mahal. It’s worth taking a guide along if you want to delve deeper into the beginnings of this monument and its architecture. Arches, arches and more arches, it’s like they are the sentinels of this unique monument.
The Hawa Mahal interiors.
Early morning is the time to visit the Hawa Mahal. The Sun’s position and its rays work wonders with the light here. It’s refreshing, almost like having a bath with cold water in the desert heat.
What you don’t see.
From the top, one can see most of Jaipur. Even the forts of Nahargarh and Aamer are visible from this unorthodox vantage point. You can also see the big sun dial at Jantar Mantar from here. What a way to start my morning!
Next up, the Jantar Mantar.
The greatest time teller of them all.
I could go all geek on you and tell you what each instrument here is about but I wont. A one of a kind collection of architectural astronomical instruments built by the Maharajah Jai Singh, it is best if one finds out on ones own. Zodiacs to sun dials, shadow clocks to other instruments which interpret the stars, each and every instrument here could interest you. Here are some photographs to show you what the Jantar Mantar complex is all about. Enjoy.
The Jantar Mantar complex.
City Palace, Jaipur.
Right opposite the Jantar Matar stands the City Palace. Home to the current royal family of Jaipur, one shouldn’t miss this place of tourist interest. Smack dab in the center of Jaipur city, the City Palace induces are calming aura of space and luxury. No wonder then that it is still, in a large part, a royal residence.
Don’t miss the City Palace!
A mix of Indian, Mughal and European architecture thanks to its architects – a Bengali gentleman, an Englishman and Maharajah Sawai Jai Singh the second himself, the City Palace houses all the usual requisites for a royal palace.
The architecture, a mix of European, Indian and Mughal influences.
Walking through the city palace interiors one can not only appreciate the architecture and pains taking mosaic work but also take a moment to relax and hang around, away from the loud noises of the city.
Detailed mosaic work at one of the doors.
Lunch was a priority as I exited The City Palace. I shot a little in and around the streets of the city till the light became too harsh and then headed back to the hotel.
Street side Jaipur.
After this days shooting, I was faced with a small problem. All the space I had to store my RAW footage was almost over. Also I had just one back-up of all the data. Now, being the prudent photographer, I had prepared for this eventuality in my mind. At the rate I was shooting all over Rajasthan, I was lucky I survived this long. In the evening I bought another big hard drive and got about transferring all the data and sorting out everything. This is the slowest, most time consuming and not to mention important part of a photographers’ trip. A big day was ahead of me. The massive Aamer Fort was on my agenda for the next day. I readied myself.
The Aamer Fort.
I sprang out of bed in the morning, enjoyed my tea and packed up. It was time go to shoot the Aamer Fort and it’s story. The ride to the fort was probably one of the most beautiful 10 kilometer ride/drive one can take in Jaipur, within the city. I remember saying that the Mehrangarh Fort at Jodhpur is imposing, well, the Aamer is way beyond that. From the road, as you drive towards the massive hilltop structure, the beauty and majesty of the surrounding hills and lake are refreshing. Even the road seems to have been built in a way that accentuates the ‘look’ of the Aamer or Amber Fort.
The Aamer Fort in the distance.
The lake, which is bang in front of the fort’s walls, is called the Maota Lake. This serving of fresh water at the forefront of the fort does well to prepare your brain for the next few hours of amazement and onslaught of beautiful history.
Lake Maota and the serenity of Aamer.
Ahead of the ‘Dil Araam Bagh’ or Heart relaxing garden, the massive ramparts serve as walkways and were used by royals on their elephants to climb up and in to the fort premises. The elephants are still there but the royalty has been replaced by tourists. A fee of INR 900 will get you to the top whilst you enjoy an elephant ride. Mind you, the line up for this is huge. I chose to climb up on foot, with a guide.
A typical day at Dil Araam Bagh, Aamer.
My guide, a middle aged gentleman from Jaipur, seemed skeptical of my intentions at first. He had never seen or heard of anyone like me. When I told him why I was clicking pictures, he looked at me with a puzzled gaze, as if trying to justify in his mind that I was not a fool on a wild goose chase. More than telling me about Aamer, he wanted to know about my history and future. Amusing to say the least, every once in a while he would offer to hold my heavy camera bag so that I could get a better shot. Rarely though will you find such hospitality anywhere in the world. Rajasthani men and women though, to me, seemed like the kindest and simplest amongst all.
It was a mighty climb I must confess, plus we had no choice but to give way to the tall elephants ferrying tourists to and fro. Finally though I entered the Aamer Fort’s inner premises. Straight away the splendour of the entrance gate left me dumbfounded. What a sight!
Massive entrances to every wing of the fort.
The several gates, known as ‘pol’ in Hindi, served as Gothic reminders of the era gone by. Those monolithic arches would pull the air out of every breath. Ganesh Pol, Suraj Pol, Hathi Pol etc, each had a characteristic defining feature over and above the awe inducing sight. The intricate mosaic work is another fabulous example of the craftsmanship of the day.
‘Suraj Pol’ or the Gateway of the Sun.
The view from different levels of the fort is panoramic and during early mornings and evenings, beautiful to say the least. If one peeks out of the windows, one can see the Saffron Garden or ‘Kesar Kyari’ right in front. Also in the view would be the massive fort walls which extend all the way to the top of the hills in the distance. Even after seeing quite a few forts in Rajasthan itself, I couldn’t help but gawk!
A view of the front with the Kesar Kyari in the midst.
Next come the courtyards of Aamer. I need only utter three words – peace, serenity and awe. At the risk of sounding as if I got carried away, I must confess, the Aamer Fort was turning out to be my favourite one yet. The gardens inside the fort, near the Sheesh Mahal only accentuate the unique feeling.
A courtyard of Aamer.
One interesting fact that not many will know is that there is a tunnel between the Aamer Fort and the Nahargarh Fort. Seemingly for the king and family to escape in case the situation ever demanded. To this day, they say, that the passage is functional. Only the Maharajah would know for sure!
The mystery passage.
Alright, the fort is all well and good but if you really want to know and experience the Aamer in a special way, try this out. Don’t go and tour the fort. First, sit through the Sound and Light show here, it is held at the kesar kyari enclosure.
Ready for the show?
An hour long show of dancing lights depicting the history of this fort and its rulers. It is by far one of the most interesting sound and light shows you’ll ever see in Rajasthan. Aamer has not only been preserved well as a fort but the sound and light show is the perfect cherry to go on the top of this historical cake.
The Aamer Fort, in the colours of the Kingdom’s flag.
If you do happen to take my word and see the sound and light show before the fort tour, you will get a better understanding of the happenings of yore. The time-lines will be clear in your head when your guide narrates the story. Oh and do take a guide, not the audio one but the human kind. The primary reason being, the human guide will take you places the audio guide won’t. Just behind the Aamer Fort, one can see the Aamer village, the Aamer hills and some temples – one of which is worth devoting some time to. I must say it, this was the most beautiful Durga Devi Temple I had ever seen in my life.
The imposing temple.
Very close to the temple is a small shop which sells clothes and accessories made by local cottage industries. Hosiery students have gotten together and put up a small shop where they sell their products. Their stuff is good. Women especially, will love this tiny little outlet!
If at heart you’re a small boy who likes big toys, then don’t mist out on the Jaigadh Fort. They house the world’s biggest military cannon here. Known as the ‘Jaivana’, this cannon was like a weapon of mass destruction in its hay day – an apt deterrent. It weighs 50 tonnes and it’s barrel is 20 feet long – enough said.
The world’s biggest cannon.
Food? The Nahargarh Fort canteen serves the absolute best ‘Laal Maans’ or red meat (a Rajasthani speciality) in town. Warning: It is spicy like it’s no ones business but brilliant for the Indian palette.
Day five was also my last day in Jaipur. Spending the afternoon and evening getting ready for the upcoming ride, yet again I wondered whether my hurting motorcycle would get me there. I believed that she could and with that, sleep came.
I left Jaipur early next morning. This leg of my motorcycle journey was symbolic of my turning back. Technically, I was now heading towards home. Only two cities stood between me and the completion of Rooh – E – Rajasthan. Even as I rode on the highway (NH8) my mind was slowly drifting into an introspective mode.
Yes, every motorcycle trip has a profound effect on ones personality and mind. You learn, you forget, you survive and you enjoy. I took many risks taking on this mammoth adventure – family, money, my own security and a whole lot more but as of now, things were looking up. An aura of positivity was building and my god does it bring a smile to your face when you’re near personal success.
Chittaurgarh, a small town just off the National Highway 8 between Jaipur and Udaipur was my next destination. Not many people even choose to visit this quaint town in Rajasthan. Yet it is one of the most significant places in Rajasthan’s vivid history. On my way, I had the good fortune of stopping at a small roadside pushcart, stood beside a railway crossing, to me it seemed like the perfect last stop before hauling to Chittaurgarh. I had the best chai of any road trip ever here! The best part was that all I remember of the place is the railway crossing and the pushcart. Today, I have no idea where this cart was and whether I would ever be able to find it, if I tried.
The bike did well to get me to Chaittaur. Even with the slowly but still growing engine issues, she was turning out to be a tough brute. This bit of my ride was very smooth as this stretch of the National Highway 8 leaves no stone unturned when it comes to quality tarmac. Soon, I would lay anchor in a sea of history, Chittaurgarh.
For more pictures from Jaipur, Click here.
In this article:
Number of nights: Jaipur – 6.
Distance travelled: Ajmer – Jaipur = 120 kms.
Motorcycle condition: Occasional misfires, slight over heating, engine noise (crank issues). She’s just being a Bullet.
Next destination: Chittaurgarh, Rajasthan. (Click here to read)
In the hills of Rajasthan.
Part 4 of Rooh – E – Rajasthan.
To read part 3 – Click here.
To read part 2 – Click here.
To read part 1 – Click here.
Too many thoughts spoil the broth.
My arrival at Ajmer was a little unsettling. The approach road towards Ajmer once one turns off the highway was really not a road. It was a proper sand trail where cars and trucks crawling at a snail’s pace were kicking up walls of dust. And I thought I had left the sand behind! Controlling the motorcycle on this track, where the sand was half a foot deep and with everyone on the trail looking at me was not easy. I had no choice but to ride behind these vehicles and breathe occasionally. If I said it was hot that morning, I’d be lying, it was scorching!
Ridin’ to the Aravallis!
I had more than a few preconceived notions about Ajmer. I had heard a lot about this city. Everyone told me not to miss the Dargah Sharif and the Annasagar Lake. Also, the holy town of Pushkar was just a breath away. Even the Pushkar fair was well under way as I reached Ajmer. Ajmer was also my mother’s birthplace. I was hoping this city would stimulate and motivate me after my time in Jodhpur.
In Ajmer, I was staying with relatives. People who I knew, people who I liked. People, who liked me. These were people who appreciated what I was doing and even commended me on my resolve to go it alone. Reassuring to say the least, this praise coming from the people who I know and now thank.
The city of Ajmer lies off the National Highway 8, some 140 kilometers before Jaipur, one of the longest and smoothest stretches of road India and Rajasthan have to offer. I reached Ajmer fairly early; the desert heat here was more intense compared to any other city or town I had been to yet. At 11 in the morning, to my central Indian soul, it felt like it was afternoon in peak summer. All my water was over as I entered the city. I reached the city center and restocked when my uncle came to pick me up, he showed me the way to their home which would be my base for the next few days.
After my dismount from the bike, a refreshing bath and a nap later, I head out onto the streets of this of this city, which is really a town if you know what I mean. The roads here are a mix of broad and narrow, Ajmer was designed to fit the description of a ‘sleepy’ town. Near the railway station, it’s a snail’s rally at any time of the day. Head to the lake though and it’s mostly a breeze driving or riding on the road alongside the famous Annasagar lake.
When it comes to food, there is really only one place you need to head to. Forget about non-vegetarian grub, just head to the ‘Gol Piyau’ and treat yourself to some amazing north Indian chaat. ‘Chaat’ is the Indian answer to all your non meal time cravings. One plate of aaloo tikki (a kind of potato cutlet) is enough to keep you going for a while. Even the samosa chaat which they serve with a mixture of spices and a curry called ‘kadhi’ is divine. Mind you, all this only if you can battle the crowd and get to the counter!
Grub and grubbers at the Gol Piyau, Ajmer.
Here in Ajmer, I could not stop myself from trying out the ‘pani puri’ on a road side pushcart. It is a quintessentially Indian personality trait!
These little pockets of punch are really what the doctor ordered, if you’re the kind who likes to take a little risk with your tummy. Spicy, tangy and wholesome pockets of fried pastry, stuffed with savoury potato mash and spiced water. If the spice is too much for your palate, ask for the sweet version, close your eyes and chomp. It is brilliant, take my word for it.
I spent my evening chit-chatting with relatives, basically relaxing and getting in early. I was still confused, how I should go about exploring the two cities of Ajmer and Pushkar was a blur even now.
Day two in Ajmer.
The holy town of Pushkar was just 12 kilometres away from down town Ajmer. The Pushkar fair had started just a couple of days before my arrival and there was no way I was going to miss it.
On this day, I woke up to the clicks of my cameras taking a time-lapse of the sunrise over the Aravalli ranges. Early mornings in Ajmer are chilly to say the least, quiet and peaceful too. During the night, amidst falling in and out of sleep, I had decided that I will head to Pushkar and take a look around. Everyone raves about this place for abundant reasons and hence my curiosity coupled with excitement got the better of me.
The motorcycle ride from Ajmer to Pushkar was an interesting one. It was only 12 kilometers but even in that less a distance one gets the feeling of change. The feeling of being in a city changes to make you feel like you’re in a holy town. And you are! I reached Pushkar late in the morning and spent the entire day just gauging the fair or ‘mela’ as it is known in Hindi. Getting a feel for Pushkar turned out to be easier than expected. The holy town of Pushkar wasn’t all religion religion religion, thankfully. Here and now, during the Pushkar Mela there was a lot more going on.
Let’s go see Pushkar!
In the 8 hours I spent in Pushkar on this day, I could understand two things. The odours here were the real story tellers and that this place was less a cattle fair, more a lens-men (and women) extravaganza. Let’s start with the former.
Not your ordinary fare.
Day 1, Pushkar:
No matter where you hail from, you will find your palate struggling to keep up with the taste of the air here. From temple smells to the mid day warm air at the stadium, you’re in for an experience of sorts. A background of cow/camel/horse dung, a spattering of diesel fumes, some fruits and chai and a garnish of sand makes up the air here. Don’t be surprised if you can smell someone smoking weed here. Well, if you’re surprised, you won’t know its weed. Pushkar is not for the faint hearted traveller.
The stadium is where the action is, mostly. Apart from the perpetual cattle fair, loitering camels, pushcarts, chaiwallahs and the occasional hot air balloon, this place is also a playground for women and men with big lenses. Especially inside the stadium, one can feel the photography. Hundreds of people can be seen attacking subjects in aggressive stances as if they were actually holding them to ransom. Or maybe it’s the other way round, the moment you click a holy man’s photo, don’t be surprised if he asks you for some money. Though the businessman in me did think, if someone started a camera equipment store here in Pushkar, they’d mint money!
Mine is bigger!
If you’re hungry in Pushkar, there are many options, sort of. Let me explain. There are umpteen stalls selling freshly fried samosas and kachauris all through the day. There are also a number of juice stalls and food huts et al. So, where’s the problem? Hygiene – In this holy town, that’s your problem. When I first arrived and finished my recce, I deduced, even my hardened stomach may not be able to take the sheer dust content in that food. The best thing to do when in doubt about food is to eat fruit. Bananas are a saviour in most situations and so I picked up a sixpack and gorged away from hungerville.
To food or not to?
Coming to Pushkar and going back to Ajmer every night wasn’t going to make sense. So, I booked my RTDC hotel room here for the next night and head back to Ajmer. That evening I was in the mood to indulge myself and thought of that as the right opportunity to check out the night life of the city. Well guess what, there isn’t one! After 10 pm, Ajmer seems like it’s a town under curfew. In fact, I was lucky I even got food at that hour! Phew!
Day 2 Pushkar:
On this morning, I woke up before dawn and packed up my stuff. No matter how many times you have done it, getting out of bed that early is always a fight against the urge to go back to sleep. All loaded up, I left from Ajmer at 5am and reached Pushkar at 5:15. Yet again, the same 12 kilometer ride had a profound effect. The chilled morning wind worked well to refresh my head and my spirit. The temperature was really low at that time of the morning which brought home another realisation. The motorcycle. The cold start meant she was sounding even more roughed out than what she actually was. As we climbed down the hill on the way to Pushkar though, her beat became smooth. The calm and quiet of this early morning was only dotted with the sweet sound of my Enfield’s exhaust note.
It was apparent that people here were early risers….or really late sleepers. The roadside stalls had already started making the first of many rounds of tea for the day. Even the cows were being milked by the side of the road and the holy men were making their way to the lake for their morning dip. Dawn had cast itself over Pushkar. The faint blue of the early morning sky melted into the dark of Pushkar streets, the small light bulbs of stalls and shops did their best to punctuate the serenity with their colours, like a small company of soldiers trying to fight the dark till reinforcements arrived in the form of the sun’s light.
Good Morning Pushkar.
The ‘aarti’ or prayer of the morning had begun echoing all over. The kirtan at the Gurudwara could also be heard now. Even the mosque had begun its first reading for the day. I reached the RTDC hotel here and dumped my stuff, took my camera gear and head out. Now, the real reason for me to come this early to Pushkar was the hot air balloon show. Yes. Big balloons filled with hot air would be flying all over this town and it’s surrounding hills and I was not going to miss it, not for the world! I am still a child when it comes to such things.
View from the bedroom!
At around 6am the hot air balloons lined the sand at the stadium and slowly got ready for take-off. This was the first time I observed the goings on behind each balloon launch. Quite interesting for a techno – motorhead like me. The sounds of huge fans and the intermittent blows of hot flames into the balloons were hard to miss. Plus the conversations with balloon pilots made my being here even more interesting. Sadly, I could not afford to fly aboard one of these friendly beasts but still, I spent close to two hours just recording and photographing the goings on behind ballooning.
These balloons are mostly operated by German and British companies who are specially invited to perform here. A joyride on one of these will set you back about 10 grand Indian. One by one the colourful balloons stood up and took to the sky as others took their place on the stadium sands. It is a sight to behold I must confess. The sun came up and the balloons flew away, the excitement of the morning was still in me. I sat down under some shade and checked out my shots whilst sipping on some chai.
As the day moved on, hour after hour of games and processions took center stage. The wrestling and the Kabbaddi competitions are by far some of the most interesting games played here as teams are formed with locals and foreign nationals pitching themselves against each other. What really caught my attention here was the moustache competition. Oh yes, this is where Rajasthani men come into their own. If there is one thing you ask any Indian to visualize about Rajasthan, it will be their moustaches.
Kabbaddi, action packed!
This time there were five participants in all but only two were true contenders. Both had a personality which was unmatchable! The contestants lined up as a huge crowd gathered to watch this unique competition. The gentleman who won had a moustache 10feet long from one end to the other! Whoa!
A long moustache and a personality to match!
There was also a game called ‘Ghota Dhari’ being played here. Looked much like hockey being played in sand actually. Furthermore, another whacky and witty sport was the turban tying competition. Basically for foreigners who wanted to showcase their turban tying prowess.
Ghota Dhari and tying the turban!
There is also a very popular temple here in Pushkar. Dedicated to Lord Bhrama, it is hailed to be the only one in the world. One can’t be too sure about that but this one is definitely the most popular Bhrama Temple in the world. There is an interesting story behind there being only one Bhrama temple in the world. Folklore says that Lord Bhrama’s wife saw Gayatri (a woman Bhrama married to complete a religious practice known as Yagna) sitting next to him in her place and cursed him. The curse entailed that no worship would be offered to him anywhere else in the world and hence the exclusivity of this Bhrama temple. Well that’s as far as the story goes in my opinion. The temple is said to be about two thousand years old and is run by Gurjar Sanyasis.
The Maha Aarti.
The streets of Pushkar during the fair are narrow. Lined by pushcarts or stalls selling a variety of things, during the day and the evening there is rarely any place to walk. It is advisable to find a safe parking spot for your vehicle and head out on foot. At any RTDC (Rajasthan Tourism Development Corporation) tourist information kiosk here, you can ask for a pamphlet with the fair schedule. Once you have that, you will know when and where the interesting events are going to take place. I spent the time in between competitions and games strolling around the markets and checking out the animals here on sale. Because that’s what the Pushkar fair is really about. Cattle.
Street market, Pushkar.
A cattle auction – That is what the Pushkar fair originally started out as. This year, a horse was sold for 12 million INR. The scene is, various stud farms and camel breeders put up their tents and showcase their best specimens which are mostly for sale. Buyers horde the town during the first two days of the fair and pick up whatever animal they like. The animals, be it horses, camel or even goat and sheep then get taken for meat or for production of wool etc. Some horses even make it into races and camels of course, get down to doing what camels do in Rajasthan, ferry tourists around.
The evenings here, if spent around the Pushkar lake are serene and calm. They say the Pushkar lake is a special one. Replenished only by rain water it is considered to be holy. It is a man made lake. It is also not very hygienic as it is not drained by any river, yet it is said that no one has ever fallen sick by taking a dip or using its water here. One doesn’t know how much truth there is to that lore though. Thanks to my RTDC abode, I had a panoramic view of the lake which served as a beautiful vantage point for the evening’s photography.
Panoramic night view of the Pushkar Lake.
I set up one camera for a time-lapse and with the other I stood on the two story high ledge over the lake taking pot shots at every subject I could find. As the sun went down, for the first time on this trip, I got some alone time to sit back and think about the past few days of travel. From my home in Maharashtra I had ridden my bike all across the western desert towns and crossed over to the eastern side of Rajasthan.
Pot shot 1.
Ajmer as a city hadn’t offered much but Pushkar I think had made up for it. I had only spent one proper day here but I guess to my mind, that was enough. My Pushkar tenure ended here. After this point, the more developed towns were on my checklist, Jaipur, Udaipur and Chittaurgarh. This was the half way mark. I gave myself a pat on the back.
Pot shot 2. The Gurudwara at Pushkar.
My mind was still racing about whether or not to give Ajmer one more day of my time.
The next morning I was back at Ajmer and wondering what to do. There were a couple of tourist interests here which were pending but for some reason, I wasn’t too interested or motivated if you will. I decided that I would head to Jaipur the same day, since it was just a 3 hour ride away. I freshened up, loaded up and said my goodbyes.
I started riding towards Jaipur at 3pm that very day, I couldn’t wait to see what was in store for me at the capital of Rajasthan!
Just an hour had passed since I left Ajmer and suddenly I knew why I had left so early. There are things that happen which make one realise how all that happens is interrelated. Speeding down the smooth highway, I saw a huge herd of camels walking on the side of the road. Right there was a photo opportunity which sparked my next move. Twisting the throttle further I gained more speed and then stopped a little ahead of the camel herd.
I whipped out the camera and excited as a puppy, got ready to try and shoot the photograph I had in mind. The camels came and walked past my motorcycle, I clicked each second that they were in the vicinity. As they walked away, I wondered whether my timing was good enough. Beads of sweat dripped down my face as I frantically got back to my bike under the warm afternoon sun. I stuffed the camera inside and started the bike again.
Look what I got!
I was to have lunch on my way. That was the perfect idea! One thing us Indians love about our country is the highway ‘Dhabas’ or rustic eateries. The highway to Jaipur is a six lane road and is trouble free for the most part. Half way to Jaipur came a place called Dudu, a small town on the side of the highway. It was about 4:30 in the evening and the sun had turned golden, it was time to stop for lunch. Also, I could not wait to sit down calmly and check out my recent photographic endeavor. I ordered my grub and slowly went about checking the shots I had taken.
Sure enough, I had got my shot! That perfect shot with the camels surrounding my motorcycle was now mine. This photograph characterised my ride through Rajasthan the best. The road, the ride and Rajasthan, all in one photograph. Perfect. I would never have got this shot if I had stayed back at Ajmer.
The final shot.
Back to the food, two of the most spicy aaloo ka paranthas was what I ordered. So spicy were they that by the end of eating them I was sweating profusely. To my surprise, the spice not only cleared my palate of any culinary response but also flushed my head of the thoughts that had bundled up during my time in Ajmer. Sometimes I think my head is like a motorcycle’s air filter, one has to keep ‘servicing’ it for the performance to be good.
Jaipur it is!
The ride to Jaipur was smooth barring the knock knock games my bike and I were playing along the way. The soft evening sunlight was the perfect riding companion. Even my motorcycle took its state in its stride and soldiered on. It wasn’t like I was being soft on her either, on empty straights I’d often max out the throttle and she would respond well enough. This stretch was quick to end, I reached Jaipur with another hour of riding under my belt.
For more pictures from Pushkar, Click here.
In this article:
Number of nights: Ajmer – 2, Pushkar – 1. Total = 3.
Distance travelled: Jodhpur – Ajmer = 200 kms. Ajmer – Pushkar = 12 kms. Total = 212 kms.
Motorcycle condition: Occasional misfires, breakdown imminent (crank issues) though she’s still hanging in there.
Next destination: Jaipur, Rajasthan. (Click here to read)
Marwar – Central Rajasthan.
Part 3 of Rooh – E – Rajasthan.
To read part 2 – Click here.
To read part 1 – Click here.
I turned off National Highway 114 and entered Jodhpur at what felt like the peak hour of traffic here. It was now noon. My dash from Jaisalmer had turned into an easy riding session most of the way. Jodhpur looked like a greeting card of commotion which was unfolding just as the bike and I rolled in. I learnt early that in this town, dust had the right of way and so did the oddly shaped black and yellow rickshaws. In a way this was a rude reminder of my dispatch from the calm caress of Jaisalmer. I caught myself thinking “I got a bad feelin’ ’bout this” (the way Will Smith would say it). The mid day heat was harsh, coupled with the dwindling dare of my motorcycle’s smooth run, I was crossing my fingers about Jodhpur.
I had to shake off all apprehensions as I rode towards my new RTDC (Rajasthan Tourism Development Corporation) home. The wheels of the bike crawled through the traffic as I finally broke free onto one of Jodhpur’s broad roads which led to the High court. Just as the city breeze started playing with the beads of sweat forming on my forehead, I reached my hotel for this city. RTDC’s Hotel Ghoomar was now my home for the next few days.
This RTDC Hotel was brilliantly located, right in the middle of Jodhpur. The receptionist, a Mister Kishore Kumar, had one heck of a sense of humor. I was welcomed with an open heart I have to say. Mr Kumar had quite an interest in photography too and that’s where we hit it off. After settling myself, Kishore ji and I spent quite a while discussing where in Jodhpur may one find good photo opportunities. The hotel itself, was decent enough. Thankfully, the RTDC has quite a few tariff categories, suited to almost any pocket.
Hotel Ghoomar and the rickshaws of Jodhpur.
Jodhpur was to be a long stopover, I knew people here. One of my Army friend’s family was stationed here. An uncle of mine was also in Jodhpur. Plus, most important, the Marauder was to get its all-important servicing done. She had come a long way since we first left on that chilled early morning from Pune. Dinner was to be had with uncle and the evening was spent looking at pictures I had clicked on my journey so far. This of course, was my first whiff of home food after Barmer. For some strange reason though, I felt, Jodhpur had an unsettling vibe to it. Unlike Barmer, Jaisalmer and even Mount Abu with their oozing positivity, Jodhpur was more a place where life as we know existed. It was a normal city, in a desperate rush to get ahead of its own self, trying to conquer time.
The bustle of the city woke me up the next morning. I sat in bed sipping on tea, looking at the curtain on the window play games with the sun’s light. Unlike other mornings, today there was no riding or photography to be done. The day would be dedicated to spending quality time with my motorcycle. This was a rest day. First, I made numerous phone calls trying to scout for an authorised mechanic here and found one. Then came the task of actually reaching the workshop in this new city. Now this is the part I love, deliberately getting lost in a city I know nothing about. Lanes, by lanes, small roads and big roads. Stopping every kilometer to ask people directions for the place I want to go to and then from being hopelessly lost to reaching my destination. This was my way of breaking the ice with Jodhpur. The hungry me stopped at one of the sweet shops and hogged on some local samosa/kachauri variants. In Jodhpur, it’s easier to find a ‘halwai’ or sweetmaker than trying to find a restaurant to eat food.
Breaking the ice.
Ismail bhai, an authorised Royal Enfield mechanic on Chowpasni road, gave my motorcycle a once over. According to him nothing was wrong with the engine but I knew better. There was a piston slap which was more than audible. Having said that, I didn’t want him poking his spanner in places he didn’t seem to know much about. So the bike just got some routine maintenance done. The breaks got cleaned and adjusted, the air filter was cleaned and the chain was oiled and adjusted. At such garages, which are dedicated to the Enfield, more often than not, one finds other motorcycle owners with a passion for the ride. Conversations with other bullet owners here were about our bikes and where I was coming from and where I was planning to go. Suggestions, route directions and warnings were all part of our banter. When I told people about what I was doing, most people would respond with a puzzled gaze. The ‘What is this guy up to?’ kind of a look. I find that amusing and it always brings a smile to my face.
To know that some people out there actually think something like this can’t even be done and for me to be doing it, that’s a gift I cherish dearly.
About three hours later, I scouted for a place to have lunch. Strangely, the crowded streets around Chowpasni road weren’t home to any interesting eat outs, apart from your odd ‘halwaai’ of course. So I went back to my hotel and had a very simple Dal and Chawal.
The afternoons in Jodhpur are hot, even in November. The tourist inside me was aching to go out and check out the sights but I wanted to take it slow. When on such trips, it is often easy for someone to try and get ahead of one’s self in the excitement. Which in turn leaves you tired and unmotivated when it matters the most, a bit like a marathon. You have to pace yourself all the time. Self motivation is key to surviving the length of such a trip. More than half the trip stood in front of my motorcycle and me, I kept telling myself to persevere.
Tea time again, sitting in the garden, I looked up at the sky. A strange haze of cloudy fume had cast itself over the evening, like a message written in cloud, telling me to stay in and not tire myself out. It was time for a reality check. I was worried about my motorcycle, as she hadn’t got the service I felt she needed. She talks to me, this motorcycle. Each other is all we have on such endeavours. I would spend at least ten minutes every day making sure everything was in order with her. I like to believe that she understands me. Because boy, when she talks, I have to listen. Just by the beat of the engine I understand what her mood is like. How the engine sounds tells me whether or not she is feeling up to it. At this point, I knew she was not in great nick. Right from Barmer, there was a faint change in the way the engine sounded. The metallic clang had increased ever so slightly as we covered more distances over the desert state. I did not know if she could stand by me throughout the trip.
Haze over Jodhpur.
All that thought didn’t mean a change in plan was in order, no.
Day three in Jodhpur and it was time to see what this city had in store for its tourist. The Mehrangarh Fort was one of the most imposing forts I had seen till date. It is difficult to spot from within the city as the buildings crowd the view but once you are on the hill road heading to the fort, the view is awe inducing. It almost catches you off guard, the Mehrangarh is that huge.
The Mehrangarh Fort, overlooking the city.
Thanks to my uncle, the fort authorities had been informed about my arrival. The moment I reached the entrance I was ushered through the crowd and given a complimentary pass to the interiors of this mega matrix of pathways, history and well, blatant robbery of a tourist’s time. Not for a moment will I say that the fort does not match up to what it promises. No, the place is brilliant and the history is more than intriguing but it is the way such places are managed and run in India these days. It felt like a dirty quest for money was the driving force behind allowing the common man access inside these walls. There was even a Rupee 20 charge to use the elevator. The security personnel at this fort, behaved as if they were doing a favour to the guest/tourist who dared to venture inside after paying for her/his ticket.
A strange rule prevented me from putting up a tripod anywhere inside the fort’s premises. This anti-tripod rule will chase you through many monuments in India. When questioned, the authorities told me that it is to prevent professional photography and videography but then again, you can tot a camera or a handy-cam all you want. They say one needs special permission to be able to put up a tripod and shoot, also, money needs to be paid to the fort management if you wish to shoot with a tripod. Wow! What a lovely explanation for such a nonsensical rule. Apart from the outright fleecing going on these days at such so called tourism savvy monuments, these regulations are made by people who have no real idea of the on ground situation or even knowledge of photography. Most professionals can shoot as well or better without a tripod or ‘stand’ as these people call it.
View from the courtyard.
This fort was mighty beautiful, from inside and out. As one reaches the main courtyard, one can see the blue city stretching out in front of the fort. When touring the insides, I noticed that sunlight had a special relationship with this monument’s architecture. At almost every arched entrance that you walk through, fresh rays of sunlight will rain down on you. Some of the Darbans or doormen may even pose for your camera if you ask them.
Romancing the Sun.
Inside, the brilliance in gold work will leave one gasping as you come to terms with the sheer scale of art and craft which is a part of every single royal expanse here. From regular rooms to August darbars, inside the palaces, stories keep one engaged all through. More than just a visual delight, the Mehrangarh with its history and tourism centric ethos gives the thinking traveller a run for his or her money. Quite literally.
Another interest inducing sight are the cannons which are kept on top of the broad fort walls. The importance of which is undermined by the tourist himself as you will see people climbing on top of the cannons or sitting on them.
A Mehrangarh cannon.
The most intriguing story here goes back to the time the construction of the Mehrangarh fort began. The hill on which it was built was known as the hill of birds. A hermit known as the lord of the birds used to stay on this hill and when he was forced to move because of the construction of the fort, he cursed the kingdom. His curse prevented the kingdom from ever having adequate water. To this day they say that the areas in and around Jodhpur suffer from drought once every four to five years. The stories also say that Jodha the ruler tried to appease the hermits’ curse by burying a man alive in the foundations of the fort. (The man) Rajiya’s family was looked after by the kingdom of Rathores.
Built on the hill of birds.
I must also mention that most of the fort is actually cordoned off for general public, entry is prohibited. Why? I have no idea. So much contrast between the past and the present allied to the less than ordinary experience of the fort interiors had left a sad impression of this place on my mind. Even though I was given free entry and treated with residual decency, what was actually happening here was for everyone to see. Money rules the roost here, take my word for it. After eating a kathi roll at the Mehrangarh café (the fort run restaurant) and paying 170 INR for it, I left.
Kathi roll and the Cafe’ Mehran.
Next on my monuments list was the Jaswant Thada. A building situated very close to the Mehrangarh fort and one of much aesthetic and historical importance. A mausoleum, the Jaswant Thada is a beautiful sight. The word mausoleum usually brings up visions of negativity and of life ending circumstances but this building induced quite the opposite sensation. Take off your shoes and walk on the grass here. Clutch the fence and look at the city of Jodhpur stretching out in front of your eyes right up till the horizon. Turn around to see the pale marble monument standing in the middle of the gardens with a spirit as crisp as the kings of yore.
The Jaswant Thada.
If that’s not enough, lend your ears to Bansiram. An old fellow of tradition. Let him welcome you with his voice, singing to you what he likes and what your ears would like to hear. Mark my words, this man has a voice which can challenge even the most honed vocals. Sitting in the courtyard of the mausoleum, Bansiram makes a living off of tips and adulation from passing tourists.
The Jaswant Thada was built by a certain Sardar Singh in the memory of Raja Jaswant Singh the second. One climbs the only flight of stairs and the aura of the building takes hold. The marble used to build this monument exudes a warm caress as the sun’s light falls on it. Those contortions which formed in my brain after the visit to the fort had now been levelled by the peace here at the Jaswant Thada.
Peace at the Jaswant Thada.
One last time, I skimmed the surface of the greens with my palm and moved on to the next palace of call.
Umaid Bhavan Palace. It is the residence of the royal family of Jodhpur and also a hotel managed by the Taj Hotels group. If you’re staying at the palace hotel, well, congratulations. If not, then you may not like this place very much. More than a sight to see, this place or palace is a cordoned off monument for the public. From 9am to 5pm every day, regulars can enter through one of the side entrances and walk to the museum. On your walk, you will get a side view of the palace.
The palace side view.
The museum showcases the history of the palace and its various owners. Photographs of the kings and princes in their prime are put up on all the walls. Plus, you can see all what you can’t see. What I mean is, you can see pictures and sketches of the layout of the palace, places where a tourist can’t go. Sad.
They have some lovely old world cars on display though. Which, let’s be honest, adds little to the experience of Rajasthan.
What the peaceful mausoleum had given, the palace took away. I was not liking Jodhpur, really. Day one to day three, not one moment here had inspired me. Not one instant had passed where I said to myself ‘this is it’. It was almost evening as I came out of the palace premises and started heading back to the area where my hotel was, uninterested in everything. I was trying to think of a way to turn the situation around. I wanted to try and put a finger on the pulse of Jodhpur, for what it really is. Instead of turning towards the hotel, I was taken to the clock tower or ghanta ghar. At this time, early in the evening, the place was choc a block with people, auto rickshaws and vehicles. It was the older part of Jodhpur.
Ghanta Ghar (Clock tower)
I walked around a bit and ventured into narrow lanes behind the main market. I saw what I call the band district. Shop after shop of local brass bands that play at not so big fat Indian weddings and during baraats lined one side of the lane. The other side was a brick wall punctuated with the bands’ colourful carriages. This was a little refreshing. Honest.
From here, I went back out into the city and gave the Mandore Gardens a span of my attention. These gardens are home to beautiful old temples which stand amidst filthy and unclean environs. The stench here is close to chronic. These gardens lie in neglect, sure, but the ancient temples overpower that repulsive feeling one gets in the gut at such a place. It’s almost as if the charm of the architecture and the history is more influential here than at the Mehrangarh fort. I spent quite a while taking pictures here. I didn’t know much about the temples or even the importance of Mandore as a place but as I now read up, it is obvious that Mandore is as important as Jodhpur itself. The ancient city of Mandore has been the capital of many kingdoms in its hay day. The stories here rekindle intrigue.
Gardens in neglect, Mandore.
For me though, it was time to call it a day or so I thought. On the way back, this time my driver and I spotted a jeep full of goats being taken somewhere. We decided to follow them, just out of curiosity. Guess where we landed up? To an auction of goats! As this was the eve of Bakr id, there was a goat auction being conducted somewhere deep inside the maze of old city lanes. There were 100s of goats being put up for auction. The trading of livestock was part of an ongoing tradition here. As I inquired, the most expensive goat had sold for a hundred and fifty thousand rupees (Whoa!).
An auction with a difference!
However tumultuous, this rather interesting day had finally come to an end.
I was to spend the next day socializing and preparing for the upcoming ride to Ajmer and Pushkar. But before I started packing there was a photograph to be taken. Starting with tea at 5am in the morning, I shot out of my room a little before 6 to try and shoot the sun rising over the Palace. I had a particular shot in my head and I wanted to get it as today was my last day in Jodhpur. I rode swiftly through the cold morning wind towards the fort; this route was now imprinted in my head. I reached the fort with dawn cracking over the blue mosaic of Jodhpur. I was in the Mehrangarh fort parking lot, since this point had a magnificent view of the city. I was hoping against hope to find the sun rising just behind the Umaid Bhavan Palace in the distance. I got ready with my gear with the sun still a while away from rising over the horizon.
Perched up top above this puzzling city I looked at how each morning in Jodhpur must be. The sounds of the morning were the same as anywhere else. Squeaking doors, occasional grunts of a diesel engine in the distance, a train blowing its trumpet as it left the railway station and of course the tens of birds which call the fort walls their home. This seemed like the peaceful side of the Jodhpur coin. Well, relatively.
Good morning Jodhpur!
The build up to the sunrise was happening. There were more people out on the streets in their walking shoes now, the sky had turned an orange-ish yellow shade and the horizon was lit up for the suns arrival. The sun came and rose like it does every day but sadly not from behind the palace, an arm’s length to the left of the palace actually. I was disappointed but also amused at myself. It was naive of me to think that the sun will rise from wherever I want it to rise. I should have put more thought into this photograph, oh well.
Sunrise over Jodhpur.
After shooting the morning colours for a short while, I went back to my hotel stopping briefly to have a cup of chai on a roadside cart. My final day in Jodhpur was upon me. Can’t say I was sad about it but there was one more thing left to do. Or should I say pilgrimage. You ask any passionate Enfield rider in India about a certain ‘Bullet Baba’ and I bet you a tenner he or she will narrate a short story about a not-so-ordinary temple close to Jodhpur. The Shrine of the ‘Bullet Baba’.
The Bullet Baba Temple.
Google it and you will find many a story about this particular temple of an Enfield a few kilometers before Pali on your way from Jodhpur. The temple is based on legend. Folklore in India is something that people swear by and if you’re ever here you will understand what I mean. It is said that in the summer of 1991 Mr Om, known locally as Om Banna (son of the local Thakur) was riding his 350cc Enfield bullet to Jodhpur. He was high on alcohol and hence lost control of his motorcycle, he ended up hitting a tree and breathed his last on the spot. Subsequently, his body was cremated and his motorcycle was taken to the local police station. The next day however, the motorcycle was seen at the accident spot.
The motorcycle and the fateful tree.
The police thought it was a prank of some sort and once again took the motorcycle back to the police station but sure enough the next day, it was back at the accident spot. As the local villagers got to know about these mysterious incidents, the legend of the ‘Bullet Baba’ was born. The locals enshrined the motorcycle on a plinth near the accident spot and now it is run as a full fledged temple of sorts. This motorcycle temple even has a priest who presides over the ceremonies. Drivers and villagers alike offer prayers and also hooch at this temple every single day.
It is also said that when any motorist has a breakdown on this stretch of the highway, Mr Om Banna comes to their rescue. Further they say, during the holy week of Navratri before the Hindu festival of Diwali, the motorcycle starts up on its own. Well, as they say, truth is definitely stranger than fiction. I don’t really believe in such stories if I’m honest but the sheer popularity of the Bullet Baba temple got to me. India and its stories are really amusing sometimes. With that I rode back to Jodhpur on my own 500 cc Bullet.
I spent the rest of the day tying loose ends, packing and just preparing. At the back of my mind though, I was concerned about the ill health of the motorcycle. Ajmer wasn’t all that close, it was 200 kilometers away. In the evening, I went to meet my Army friends. A refreshing evening it was with us all reminiscing about old times and talking about how far life has come. Good times.
Ajmer was the next biker destination! It was a city I knew little about. There was a little confusion in my mind because the Pushkar Fair was on and Pushkar was just 12 kilometers away from Ajmer. I wanted to see the Pushkar fair, yet I knew that I would have to choose between Ajmer and Pushkar. Deciding that I would leave the decision making for later, early next morning, I saddled up and left Jodhpur. Leaving Jodhpur was easy for me. The City had given me a cold shoulder, essentially. As I rode out, I wondered if I would ever come back.
Off to Ajmer!
Two hundred kilometers from Jodhpur lies Ajmer. I rode on the National Highway 112. I was now riding east, towards eastern Rajasthan. The sand was still present but the landscape had given way to proper shrubbery. I felt sad leaving the real desert behind. Now, the Marauder and I were heading towards the cities of Rajasthan. As I reached Ajmer, I had now completed the crossover from western Rajasthan to the eastern part. The afternoon heat was positively oppressive in Ajmer. The motorcycle was in a bad way, I could hear the piston slap loud and clear. I was worried that she would have to be transported back to Pune while I was in the middle of the trip. Having said that, I had made up my mind about one thing, I will not give up until she gives up on me.
If it so happened that I was riding from one place to another and she broke down, so be it. I would figure out a way to get us both to the nearest town and then put her on a truck. There was no way I would let my fear of a breakdown get in the way of our trip.
For more pictures from Jodhpur, Click here.
In this article:
Number of nights: Jodhpur – 5
Distance travelled: Jaisalmer – Jodhpur = 250 kms, Jodhpur – Bullet Baba Temple – Jodhpur = 130 kms. Total = 380 kms.
Motorcycle condition: Piston slap growing louder, engine showing signs of breaking down, occasional misfires.
Next destination: Ajmer and Pushkar, Rajasthan. (Click here to read)
Rajasthan. The western sector.
Part 2 of Rooh – E – Rajasthan.
To read part 1 – Click here.
Western Rajasthan, not a soul in sight.
A true desert town and on this day Barmer also seemed like a deserted town as I thumped in at around 12 pm. The sidewalks were empty and all the markets were shut. As I made my way through the empty streets, the noise from the bike’s exhaust echoed off the shops’ shutters. Later I was told that it was the day after Diwali and hence everything was closed. With the sun right over my head and the temperature rising, I was beginning to feel the sting of being out in the open. Riding the bike with all my gear strapped to me like a non air conditioned space suit I was feeling very warm. Even the breeze was hot. There was a stark difference at this point in my head. I had begun my journey from Mount Abu in the morning, a chilly hill station and now, I was quite literally in the middle of the desert with the sun bearing down. Such is the truth of travel, never before had I dealt with such contrasting vistas and weather, all in a span of 6 hours.
To be this far away from home and to realise that no one here knows you, it’s a strange feeling. I would talk to my motorcycle when we were on the road. My motorcycle and I, we communicate better than most humans do. I tell her where to go and she takes me there, anywhere. She also throws her tantrums and I deal with them. It’s one relationship I’m great at maintaining. Lunchtime was closing, for the both of us. At the fuel station, I was given a direction where I was told one could find a decent hotel.
Beautiful too, are the people of Rajasthan as I was about to find out. I put up at this hotel which had opened just 10 days prior to my arrival. They gave me a huge discount as they were new and my god what a place that hotel was! Key-card entry, sliding doors and flat screen TVs the works. In the western most part of the desert region of India, who would have thought? Their kitchen wasn’t yet operational, so I made my way to the only restaurant in Barmer which was open on the day and treated myself to some of the most amazing mutton I’d had in a long time. Back at the hotel, I was the only guest but as the evening came, came droves of people from Gujarat, travelling on pilgrimage to Tanot – a highly frequented Temple near the Pakistan border. The staff at Madhav Paradise – my hotel was limited but very courteous and they made sure I was comfortable, right from the start.
3 star comfort at Barmer!
Madhav Singh Rajpurohit, the owner of this almost 3 star hotel in Barmer, became my friend in the first instant of us starting our conversation. He was a fellow Bullet (motorcycle) man or ‘Bult’ as it is referred to in this part of the country. In the evening, we rode together to a place little away from the town centre where there were sand dunes! As we rode together, we spoke to each other about our lives, he seemed very intrigued by my escapade. He constantly asked me why I was doing this and each time I found myself wondering the same but tactfully answered with ‘Photography’. It’s not just photos for which I travel, no. There was something else which was pushing me, something which I couldn’t put a finger on just yet. Here was a man with big dreams for his town. Mr Madhav told me how he planned to change the face of Barmer by making it a healthy touring town. I could see in his eyes the fervor he harboured to make things happen in Barmer.
This was the first time I had ever seen dunes of sand and my friend was at his amusing best as he showed me how to make a miniature avalanche from sand. As the sand flowed over small sections of the dune, it formed pillar like structures of compacted sand. This was interesting! I never knew that could happen! The sun slipped behind the crest of these static dunes and the light was fading. Crickets had the right of way now. To be honest, I wanted to see and possibly shoot a scorpion. I had an image in my head for a picture that I wanted to click, a scorpion on the fuel tank and the setting sun in the background. I wondered if I’d be gifted with a chance to do this. Riding back to my hotel, through the village, the rear wheel occasionally skid on the sand covered road and each time it brought a smile to my face. Multiple realisations of being in the desert. I didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.
Here, in Barmer, I witnessed the true Rajasthani spirit of hospitality. As soon as the sun went down, I was asked my preference of food for dinner. I responded by asking Mr Madhav what he would be eating. I told him that I had never really tasted true Rajasthani food. He smiled and told me that he would take care of my dinner. I was served traditional staples of an Indian desert home, from Mr Madhav’s home! Crushed ‘bajre ki roti’ with buttermilk, a very spicy dish of fried okra and some kheer – an Indian desert. Can’t say I was bowled over by the food but it was the gesture and the friendship which had been extended to me by a stranger which touched me.
Yet again, the motorcycle was the icebreaker. Especially the Enfield and its charms have formed many a friendships over the years I’m sure. Here and now, in Barmer too, she was the reason two complete strangers spent an interesting evening together and ended up being friends.
I was riding along the National Highway 15, the next stop was Jaisalmer. Jaisalmer is the flagship city of Rajasthan. Smack dab in the middle of the Thaar desert, it is a real oasis of sorts. I readied myself for the ride and hit the sack.
The next morning, I rode a hundred and fifty kilometres north to the golden city of Jaisalmer. Golden it really is. This is the stretch of road when I really came to terms with my reality. I was singing songs which reminded me of my days as a child, hearing stories of the sand. Dad and his Army regiments had been posted here for years. I couldn’t help but feel patriotic as the 1971 Indo-Pakistan war was fought on these very sands. At every few kilometers, there were rural roads leading off the main highway heading into the yellow sands towards the border. I almost gave in to my temptations for a ride along the border but that needed permissions I didn’t have.
Arriving at Jaisalmer.
Within three hours of high speed riding on the NH 15, the Marauder and I were closing in on Jaisalmer. One could now clearly see the windmill farms which supply the border with electricity. I rode on further and the road now cut through the landscape with towering wind farms on both sides. A rest stop here and again the silence of the desert breeze hit me. Punctured only by the distinct ‘tink tink’ sound of the motorcycle’s engine cooling. India is a huge country, at no point is it possible to sum up its vastness and variety in a single breath.
It’s just gold.
They say the friendships that start with a fight are the ones that are the strongest. Jaisalmer and I, had a rough start. I was greeted with a bee sting on my neck as I entered the city, after which I found out that there was no hotel willing to accommodate me for 5 straight nights. So I made a few calls. The beauty of the city kept distracting me from my predicament. Sweating in the sun, making phone call after phone call and simultaneously trying to tend to the bee’s doings, I kept looking around as if to try and take Jaisalmer in, all at once. Suddenly it dawned on me that there was no point in fretting over accommodation. Even if I didn’t get a bed at a hotel, the Indian Army was everywhere and being an army kid I would at least get a safe place to park my motorcycle and at the end of the day that is all a biker needs. Just like that I felt relieved. Sat down on a sidewalk as the wind threw fine grains of sand into my face I looked over at my motorcycle, honestly, she wasn’t doing too well. The mighty Marauder wasn’t all that mighty anymore, there was a faint slap in the engines tone. Yet again I wondered if she could do this trip in its entirety and take me home.
As the pain in my neck became more bearable with each passing minute, things started falling in place, almost magically. Joy of joys, I was now put up at an RTDC (Rajasthan Tourism Development Corporation) tourist bungalow. They were kind enough to let me stay at my own mud hut (which is a theme of accommodation) for 5 straight nights. The RTDC setup at Jaisalmer was a very comfortable setting for me. Being a typical government guest house, I had complete peace of mind when it came to leaving equipment in my room or even parking my motorcycle. My mud hut had the basic needs taken care of, a usable bathroom, a fast enough fan and a nice big lock to put on the door.
RTDC Moomal, Jaisalmer.
Cuisine is important to me. Everywhere I go, food or should I say good food is a major priority every time. I was curious to find out what Jaisalmer had on offer for my taste buds. It was lunchtime by the time I settled myself and got ready to head into the city. Just about ready to leave, I was informed that my room tariff included one meal. Suddenly Jaisalmer’s ethos, it seemed to me, was trying to make up for its earlier misalliance with my arrival. I decided it was worth giving the guesthouse food a shot as I was going to be staying here for a while. I was greeted warmly at the dining room, which was like a fruit punch of sorts. The buffet spread had in front of it at least a hundred hungry travellers from all over the country, waiting on their turn to serve themselves. I joined the jamboree and soon found myself sitting at a table and chomping. The food was decent oily but edible. This was the first time I felt slightly lonely, looking at the other travellers and their self serving families.
After lunch I rode out onto the streets of a town I had already begun to get used to. Without all the riding gear, the afternoon temperature comforted me. I had begun to like Jaisalmer, a place that I was uncomfortable at only three hours ago. From my RTDC standpoint, I could see the Jaisalmer fort a small distance away. Just 10 minutes of riding in the same direction brought me to the foot of the fort. Only when standing close to the fort does one realise the scale of this structure. The road led to a monumentally congested makeshift parking lot and after a while of asking for directions and witnessing some quirky marketing I managed to break free and reach the actual Fort entrance.
Quirky marketing and the Fort entrance
Let me now try and explain what Jaisalmer really stands for. About a thousand years ago, the Jailasmer Fort was built and even today it stands tall with all its might. The fortress is visible from miles away and one wonders how in that age did they manage to build it. A king called Rawal Jaisal was behind its construction. The interiors are highly intriguing as this is the first ever fort I visited where I rode my motorcycle all the way to the top. All through the afternoon it looked brown in colour but as the sun’s light becomes softer one can make out the change in the fort’s mood. The Trikut ka teela or the Trikut Hill plays host to its massive three walled defenses. As I read up on the history of the fort, I begin to get an idea of Jaisalmer’s importance. In the medieval period it saw the rise and fall of many a ruler and was also a major bastion of trade in the Indian sub-continent. Even in the present day, Jaisalmer and its sands hold a strategically important place in India’s Geo-political existence. This part of the country has witnessed two wars between India and Pakistan.
At any point of time, there is heavy Indian Army presence in these parts of the desert all the way up to the border with Pakistan. Having said so, in and around Jaisalmer, one has to make an effort to spot a soldier on duty. You know they’re there but not always in sight, something which I believe helps the traveller feel more comfortable. I was certainly at ease. There were no restrictions on movement and one could walk the streets without nervousness. The streets of Jaisalmer are paradise for photographers and people watchers alike. In the morning as fresh yellow rains down from the skies, the golden streets light up and present a very pleasant ethos.
The Jaisalmer fort interiors were no different. The once royal pathways had now given way to cobbled roads which bear the weight of hordes of tourists, two wheelers and auto rickshaws. During the day, if you do take your vehicle inside, you will witness a very amusing game of incessant honking being played out. It can get so loud while you and your vehicle are waiting for some space that it could actually bring a smile to your face. I was amused all the way!
More than five thousand people actually live in this fort. Also, most of the fort has been converted, over time, into a one of a kind tourist’s shopping centre. Handicrafts, clothing, memorabilia and international cuisine roof-top restaurants are just some of the money spending options you will find here. Everywhere you look, from the walls to the smallest corners, one can see some item which is on sale. Not to mention the tens of ‘guides’ who will offer their services to you on your way up. At this point I caught myself thinking, this is not what I’m here for. A sudden second of realisation told me that the history here had been overshadowed by the rampant overuse of tourism for daily bread. Like a snail touched by a twig, suddenly I went back into my shell. In the middle of touring the fort, I stopped and turned back. My mind was a fistfight of thoughts. On one side stood the ‘image’ I had of this place and the other was defended by what I had just seen, reality. Was this Jaisalmer?
I spent the entire evening, having probably the slowest cups of tea I must have ever sipped on. Ogling at the fort from a distance, I sat on a flimsy ‘chaiwallah’s’ stool and watched the structure as it changed it shade with every falling photon of evening light. All through I kept thinking about whether it was a mistake coming here and changing that image of the desert in my mind. The conclusion came in the most uncommon of ways.
The fort over evening tea.
As morning came the next day, sipping on an early morning cuppa’, I stood at the outer courtyard of the guesthouse, an empty street in front of me and the breakfast buzz coming from the dining room inside. I was trying to formulate a plan of action as I had pretty much spent my entire first evening in Jaisalmer taking time-lapse footage of the fort. This morning I decided I should tour the fort like a tourist and not have preconceived notions about anything, it is what it is. On this day I chose to walk to the top and spent my time clicking pictures of the city architecture all day. The Patwa Haveli and Salim Singh ki Haveli that I toured, offer a small insight into the daily life and times of Rajasthani upper class. How they lived, how they cooked and how they got together in their homes.
The Patwa Haveli interiors.
Come afternoon, still pretty grumpy, I sat down to have lunch under the sun at one of the many roof top restaurants atop the fort. Coming back to cuisine, the food at these restos is more or less decent. The fact is, the economy of Jaisalmer thrives on tourism and hence competition is fierce, which in turn results in reasonable prices and decent quality. At least by my standards.
Roof top refreshment.
I was now wondering what to do for the rest of the day when suddenly I got my answer. Three Jaguars roared a thousand feet above my head and in formation they barrelled towards the open desert. With a morsel of laal maans (red meat – a Rajasthani specialty) in my hand, I looked on as the aircrafts disappeared behind the yellow buildings. My mind now was blank, the sound of those jet engines still echoing in my head. I made up my mind. I would head to the desert and by five the same evening, I had touched the sand.
I asked the guesthouse staff to arrange some transport for me and at three pm I was off towards the open desert but before the sand dunes there were a couple of other places to be seen. I wanted to give the bike a little rest and although everyone told me the road conditions were good all the way to the dunes at Sam I didn’t want to take a chance. A short drive out of the town had brought me to a place called Badabagh. Badabagh or ‘big garden’ is where one can see Chhatris or Cenotaphs belonging to long gone Bhatti rulers. It is a site which seems, for the most part, neglected by the development authorities, nonetheless it offers an interesting look at the past. If you take a guide, he will probably charge you 50 rupees and give you a small background about Badabagh. The carvings and the arches here bear reference to the number of wives each king had, amongst other things. A short tour of these cenotaphs might leave you thirsty for more but in your haste, don’t forget to look back as you drive out towards the main road. The open expanse is punctuated by the arches of the Chhatris at Badabagh and is a sight no photograph can do justice to. Try and be here around four in the evening.
Badabagh and the Cenotaphs.
Next comes Amar Sagar. A collection of temples sits off the banks of this almost dry lake. It is not the place a typical tourist will dedicate much time to though the architecture here, just like all over Jaisalmer is worth commending. Lodhruva and Kuldhara are two more sites in the area which are of historical importance and have interesting stories behind their existence. But the time for the sun to set was just a couple of hours away, so I instructed my driver to take me directly to Sam. I had waited too long to shoot in the dunes here. After spending a while at Amar Sagar, we made a dash for the sand.
Amar Sagar and its architecture.
Silhouettes. Sand. Serenity.
(Pronounced: ‘sum’) The first grains of free sand dunes hit here, about 5 kilometres before the desert village of Sam. On the way one passes the village of Kanoi, a village which is home to many a musical prodigy. A narrow and almost snaking road heads out from Jaisalmer and after driving for about 40 kilometres you will see tourists lining up to take camel rides up to the sand dunes. Even here, the chaos can get to you, if you let it. The most common camel ride is a 200 rupee, kilometer long trip to the sand dunes and back after the sunset. The photographer in me wanted more, a lot more!
I put my haggling skills to work and and got myself two camels. Sultan, the camel jockey, told me that he would be taking our team out into the expanse. For about half an hour we kept riding and swaying in the sweet desert breeze. For those of you who think ‘oh I can ride a horse, how hard can this be?’ think again. Hold on tight is my suggestion to all things camel riding. We made our way through the chaos of people and camels. It takes a little getting used to, riding on the camel, but once you get the hang of it, it’s pretty easy. As we left the ruckus behind, I looked around. The sun had now become a constant companion on my trip. Early mornings, late evenings and even hot afternoons, the sun made sure the bike and I had company. Six days into the trip and already I had gone through so many emotions in my head. Those ‘feelings’ that shrinks talk about.
The wind picked up slightly and I could barely hear the hordes of people we had left behind. It was a pleasant feeling, although I had my hands full. In one hand I was holding my still camera and in the other was an improvised video camera, simultaneously trying to shoot every second of this seemingly short journey.
Sultan asked me, ‘uunth chalaoge’? (Do you want to ride the camel?) I gestured to him and as soon as my gear was safe inside the bag, he threw the reigns of my camel to me and the camel took off. Riding a camel is not all that different from riding a horse as I learnt. Sultan and I were soon trotting alongside each other over the crests of dunes. Now THAT was fun. As I rode directionless, Sultan let me lead and feed my ego just a bit before asking me where I wanted to stop. I chose myself a virgin sand dune and we dismounted. An intelligent man he was and equally enterprising as I found out. He volunteered to parade the camels as I prepared the lenses I wanted to use this evening. Felt a little like a sand box dream, I ditched the footwear and let the sand tickle my toes to happiness.
Sultan, doing what he does best.
Within seconds of putting my feet on the sand, desert beetles crawled up out of the sand and started racing around the crest of the dune. These quirky creatures of the desert were something I never knew existed, all I could think about was scorpions and sidewinders. The beetles are amazing fun to watch and are really fast movers on the sand. It’s was pretty tough to get a good shot of them strutting their stuff. I did however manage to get a decent photograph of a beetle as the camels sat in the background.
Struttin’ its stuff!
In the next two hours, the sun went down and I kept clicking. Taking a break to watch the sun slip under the horizon, I could still see tourists in the distance, oh what a view! The sand in the air and the suns’ dwindling light made a beautiful soup of red. As numerous camels took their tourists back to campsites, I sat there on the sand with two puffing camels behind me. Lalu and Kaalu, the two camels had been good to me, like old veterans they looked over my shoulder unto the crimson horizon. To think of how far I had come, on a motorcycle, felt great. From my home in Pune to the middle of the Thaar Desert in six days flat. This wasn’t the end though, this was the start. I had ridden more than a thousand kilometers up until now but there were a lot more milestones to be seen. A long line up of destinations was ahead of me but before that, I still had one more day here.
Laalu and Kaalu. – Tourists heading back.
How serene this place has been. What with the numerous battles and wars having been fought on these very sands, like a sponge these grains absorbed what human life threw at them. Then it was the marauding enemy and today, the marauding tourist. Stoic. With that thought we saddled up. There was a cultural programme which had been organised by the RTDC at their campsite, where dinner would be served. Sultan, my driver and I rode on camel back all the way to the parking lot where Sultan said to me, ‘agli baar aur door jayenge’ (We’ll go much farther next time). I shook his hand and thanked him as I left for Dangri, the RTDC desert campsite. All these interactions this far away from home had made me understand how goodness, is present everywhere in this world. People here were the kindest and what about me, I was barely a stranger on a motorcycle. I can’t help but mention how beautiful Rajasthan is, not just for its sights but also from its people. My over speeding thoughts were cut short by our arrival at the campsite. I was greeted with a glass of water, which by now I had understood, in the desert is the best welcome drink anyone can gift you with.
The evening was off to a great start! Folk music, dance and some really interesting fire spitting was the order of the night. The open sky stretched across like a dotted blanket over the proceedings. It got much colder as everyone finished dinner and the customary final cup of tea. I met with the musicians and dancers after dinner, I wanted them to sing to me some of their folk songs. I wished to record them and then use the music for a short film I planned to cut later. They obliged me with open hearts and sang to me while I sat in front of them bewildered by their prowess. Bismillah Khan and his troupe were very amused and intrigued by who I was. Yet again, here in Rajasthan, the simplicity of these beautiful people touched me. It was time for me to head back, to Jaisalmer. In all honesty, I did want to spend the night at the campsite but my pocket just would not permit.
Fire spitting at the campsite.
The night drive back to Jaisalmer was nice too, cool wind and not a light in sight for miles.
Sleeping that night, I kept having visions of myself riding the motorcycle in the desert, next to the sand dunes. When I woke up, I just had to take the bike to the dunes and come afternoon, I did! Oh! The dunes seemed even more beautiful as I rode on past them and further towards the border. With grassland on both sides I kept riding for a long while, till my adrenalin settled. A water stop in the middle of nowhere bought back that silence of the desert wind. The Sun, yet again, our only companion.
Where the roads end.
One can’t miss the music here. Omnipresent notes will somehow catch the wind and reach your ears. The quintessential description of these desert towns and villages has to carry the words sand and sound. Life here revolves around the two. I made two very inspiring friends here. Mr Hariram Bhopa, a khandani musician from Jaisalmer itself and Mr Etienne Lauth, a French flutist who stays at Tiruvanamalai in Tamil Nadu but comes here for a few days every year, just to play with Hariram ji.
The Jaisalmer trio!
To them, my story of a lone man, riding across the desert in search of a muse was intriguing but above all, we all shared an unparalleled love for music. That is probably the only reason we became friends. From that moment on, music is what we did, they jammed together and I shot them playing their instruments. This was a captivating experience as initially we shot at Bhopa ji’s home at the artists’ colony in Jaisalmer where I met his entire family and then at the serene Gadisar lake. This was a golden opportunity presented to me and I made the most of it. Their music was beautiful and so was their soul. Just like the golden city.
The musicians at Hariram’s house and at Lake Gadisar.
I bid my dear friends farewell as the time for me to leave the city was nearing.
Jaisalmer had grown on me, from the bees’ sting on the first day to the dunes on the third and from the music to these fantastic people on the fifth. I had fallen in love with Jaisalmer and that love wouldn’t let me leave. I wanted to spend more time here but the rest of the trip was still in front of me. I had to trick myself into leaving Jaisalmer before the city woke up or else I would end up staying here another day. At first light the next morning, I kick started the motorcycle and she rumbled into her smooth beat. I said my goodbyes to the good people at the RTDC guesthouse and left. I rode across the city towards the road that leads to Jodhpur. The wind was the coldest of all the days I had been here, as if trying to freeze me within the city. I felt as if I was leaving a loved one for good. Even Jaisalmer, I think, had fallen in love with me.
Till we meet again.
Steadily, we reached the outer limit of the city. The sun had just hopped over the horizon on my right. It was only apt that I stopped here to say my final goodbyes.
That moment on, it was a dash to reach Jodhpur. A different city, it was a new place to explore. I was excited. The convoy after convoy of Army field guns on the road to Jodhpur made the ride that much more interesting. All the while I was trying to figure out what guns they were and whether I had ridden in the trucks towing them. I missed my army brat days dearly but this time I was on my own mission. Rooh – e – Rajasthan still had a long way to go before I could sit and look back.
The roads of Rajasthan were smooth as usual and the wind kept me cool as the sun climbed up on top of my head. A medium paced ride took me along the National highway 15 and NH 114 all the way to Jodhpur.
For more pictures from Jaisalmer and Sam, click here.
In this article:
Number of nights: 6 (Barmer: 1, Jaisalmer: 5)
Distance travelled: Mount Abu – Barmer = 250 kms, Barmer – Jaisalmer = 150 kms, Jaisalmer – Sam = 40. (Total = ~ 450)
Motorcycle condition: Piston slap audible, vague mushing sound from the engine.
Next destination: Jodhpur, Rajasthan. (Click here to read)
Two years had gone by, just thinking about this adventure. One on which I’d be alone. Just my motorcycle and that’s it. No friends, no company, no backup and no escape. I would head into the desert state of India and ride from place to place, tasting tourism at every step. Relive the clichés and see if it was possible to survive for that long, alone.
You won’t die, I said to myself as I started packing for the trip. It was not to be a survival trip but such trips are never easy and one can never be prepared enough. 2011 had been an eventful year already – I had spent a month in Africa, driven across Maharashtra and Gujarat with the Nanos, shot huge events and even been on countless bike rides. But for some reason, it felt incomplete.
Rajasthan is one of the largest states in India and its party piece is the Thaar or the Great Indian Desert. We have all had visions or seen images of camels and turban clad men in white, women in dressy reds walking on sandy streets and over curvaceous dunes. Rajasthan is also home to imposing forts and Gothic monuments which narrate stories of ancient times. Kings and kingdoms, Sultans and their Sultanates – all were heard about. Only heard about and seen in pictures or movies, never felt.
Rooh – e – Rajasthan 2011
The motorcycle journey.
Come winter of 2011, I decided that it was time to head out. I was to ride north across Gujarat and enter Rajasthan on my motorcycle. Why on a motorcycle, you ask? Well there are two answers to that.
The first one: A motorbike ride is the best way to experience the landscape and be independent all through the journey.
The second: It’s the only way I feel like I’m travelling. A plane, train or car just doesn’t cut it anymore.
I had spent so much time thinking about the destinations on this journey for the past couple of years that now I could recite the route I wanted to take in a single breath. It felt as if there would be no better time to leave home. The day finally came.
The saddle bags were stuffed with stuff and the cameras cleaned. Tank brimmed and it was time to ride out. I left the comfort of home to see if my dreamy idea of a ride across the sands could actually be realised. At the start, there was a fellow rider with me. He was riding towards his home in Gujarat. We started our ride together and then he turned off a little ahead of Surat on the highway. That was the end of my company on the ride, or so I thought then.
On the second day, as the sun got ready for another setting, I crossed the Tropic of Cancer and reached the foot of the Aravallis. At the foot of Mount Abu, I stopped for some tea and whilst sipping on the smoking golden potion, conversations started flowing. The random stranger sitting next to me, the chai-wallah and I started speaking about where I was coming from and where I’d planned to go.
There’s a feeling you get when you’re on a motorcycle ride. One moment, an instant where you realize – that these are not ordinary road-trips. This was most certainly not a typical trip. The dream ride had started.
Twenty kilometres of smooth winding roads took me to an elevation of about four thousand feet. The sun was setting, the mountains were moving in front of me with each turn. The now cool wind hit my dust covered face like a splash of cold water and the setting sun just added to the drama in every moment. This stretch of 25 kilometres and its curves is what made it all feel like the long haul from Pune was worth it. Even before I had reached my destination for the day! Turn after turn the sun played hide and seek while I overtook the ever effervescent Gujarati families in their sedans, getting those ‘looks’ every biker will tell you about. I felt at home and peaceful on this hill road.
A typical tourists’ loaf, Abu has greenery, a lake, the Dilwara Jain Temple and Guru Shikhar – the highest mountain in the Aravallis. Not to mention a gazillion hotels and guest houses.
Mt Abu , at an elevation of about 4000 feet is the only hill station in Rajasthan and is frequented by tourists throughout the year but never more than in the summer. The elevation above sea level provides breath giving respite to tourists from the hot states of Rajasthan and Gujarat. This is the land of Gurjjars, an ancient ethnic group. The roadside ‘paanwallah’ tells me that the ancient name of this area used to be “Arbudaanchal”. Interesting how us humans fall into conversations over just a few pieces of gum. He also informed me that I shouldn’t head out alone too early in the morning to shoot the sunrise as this area is home to some bears, which aren’t afraid of humans anymore, thanks to the rampant tourism. Though I think, since it was Diwali and firecrackers were bursting everywhere, even if there were bears around, the loud bangs and thuds must surely have shooed them away. Still, one can never be too careful. During the Hindu festival of Diwali, is the perfect weather to come here but not the perfect time. Tourists from Gujarat and Rajasthan flood Mount Abu during this time. Hotel accommodation is next to impossible if you’re a biker like me and prefer to scout for a bed after you’ve reached your destination. I was lucky I got 2 nights at an upmarket hotel after some major hotel hunting.
You may not feel like you’re in Rajasthan here, so touristy is the ethos of this hill town. Still, for the religious folks there is the Dilwara Jain temple. They say its architecture rivals that of the Taj Mahal. Entry for non-Jains is allowed from 12pm onwards and photography of any kind is prohibited (Why?). One can’t even take a cell phone inside.
Mount Abu is also home to the well known ‘Bhramakumaris’ – a cult of spiritually inclined people.
The Nakki lake, a major ‘attraction’, is a place where one can pay for a boat and take a small ride around the lake. There is one man here; he is old, blind and a musician. During the day you will find him at the lake and in the shikaras playing his instrument and singing songs. Just to hear him sing, the boat ride is worth it.
Nathu ji and his music.
Toad rock, a rock which looks like a frog is seen commanding the lake when you’re taking the boat ride. A small trek up to the rock will reveal a panoramic view of Mt Abu with the Nakki lake as its centrepiece.
There is also a small wildlife sanctuary here. They say the trails here are worth a trek but what I found most fun was the ride up to the parking lot. Broken road, narrow and covered with flora on all sides. It’s short but fun.
Spot the bike!
To be honest, Mount Abu offered nothing substantial for someone looking for a muse. Make no mistake; this place can be beautiful if you have the eyes for it and the time. To me though it felt as if the hill town was trying desperately to cling to its Rajasthani roots and earn a living off it. Everywhere you look there are shops and hotels aimed at the tourist. I wondered where the real Mount Abu people were.
As Diwali here came to a bittersweet end, I left. The map of Rajasthan took on its first fold.
I rode into what felt like the real deal. Gradually, the lush green gave way to a barren flat land with shades of brown. One straight road cutting through the landscape and nothing else, that’s what it looks like in the desert. The sand was visible now. I had to be careful of thorns from roadside bushes puncturing the tyres.
This road was smooth, not a bump. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what I was up to. This was going to be a brilliant experience and that is all I knew.
The sun came up behind me and suddenly, I entered the district of Barmer. There was no turning back now. I stopped to wrap my head around the fact that I was in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing here, except the road, my motorcycle and me. It was so quiet I could hear the sips of water slip down my throat. The gentle morning breeze whistled in my ears as I looked on.
Almost nothing in sight.
That feeling of uncertainty had deserted me and the adventurous streak had set in. I got a glimpse of what it was going to be like over the coming month!
For more pictures from Mount Abu Click here.
In this article:
Distance travelled: (Pune – Ankleshwar – Mount Abu) = 875 kilometres
Number of nights: Ankleshwar = 1, Mount Abu = 2.
Motorcycle condition: All good.
Next destination: Barmer, Rajasthan. (Click here to read)
Rooh – E – Rajasthan
View the video film!
Please scroll down
Rajasthan, the land of sand and more.
From Jaisalmer to Jaipur, this vast state titillates the imagination with visions of loitering camels, boundless sand dunes and august forts. To say that it was a dream to ride across these sands and experience what this land has to offer would be an understatement. Two years had passed in the run up to this monumental and personal undertaking. Finally though, we did it. Over the twenty eight days which I spent on the road with my trusty motorcycle, we covered over four thousand kilometers. I met more people than one would ever imagine and experienced more than I ever thought possible. The alluring scent of the scenes here is made up of so many aromas and vistas that it is next to impossible to try and put in words its brilliance.
A motorcycle man head out alone into Rajasthan to repaint the canvas of his memories from early childhood as the son of an Army Officer. Roads were ridden and sights were seen, people were met and food was eaten. With every rise of the sun came new milestones and bastions which gave way to brilliant frames and the setting sun. Each night was a realization of a new human being taking shape inside. Each moment was a revelation to the eyes of my time on this land. This is a journey of two characters. The man – Me and his Motorcycle – The Marauder. Every day they travelled and did what tourists would do in a new town. This will be a glimpse of their story over those twenty eight days. Not only will you witness the pleasure of being on the road but you will also view the emotions that drive a person. On good days or bad, the need for self motivation is a constant on such endeavours, out on a solo trip, it takes more than just the will to leave home.
Over the coming weeks, you will be enthralled with content from this motorcycle ride across Rajasthan. One by one, the destinations and their sociology will compel you to get out of your chair and head out on your own. Once this was a thought, today it is reality.
Ladies and gentlemen, I bring to you Rooh – E – Rajasthan 2011.
Treat yourselves to the poster shots from this mammoth trip: Click here.
The trip has started! Go ahead and read!
Part one: Chalo Rajasthan!
Part two: Rajasthan. The western sector.
Part three: Marwar – Central Rajasthan.
Part four: In the hills of Rajasthan.
Part five: Rajasthan – The Capital City.
Part six: Tales from beyond the sands of time – Chittaurgarh.
Part seven: Southern Rajasthan.
Part eight: My journey home! (Finale’)
Rooh – E – Rajasthan, the film.
A film by travel photographer Nipun Srivastava about his 5000 kilometer solo motorcycle journey across the desert state of Rajasthan in India.
Nipun set out to shoot the cities in Rajasthan with his cameras and ended up with one of his favorite pieces of written/photographic work.
With the lack of decent video and audio equipment, Nipun set about shooting his experiences in video with only time lapse footage and shots taken with his cell phone and DSLRs.
Video produced by: http://www.theroadtonirvana.com
Editing-Direction-Narration: Nipun Srivastava.
T – minus two and counting? Destination Aurangabad!
So you’ve got to get to work on Monday and you think you can’t travel? Think again! It can’t always be about exotic locales and beautiful beaches now can it? Here is what you could do if you’ve got just two days and two wheels.
225 kilometres from Pune and about 425 from Mumbai along State Highway 60 lies Aurangabad. It is a city which is fast transforming into a metro but still manages to cling on to some of its true old world charm. It serves as a base for tourists travelling to see the Ajanta and Ellora caves which are a major ‘to do’ on everybody’s travel lists and are close to the city.
This article however, is not about the clichéd caves. Yes Ajanta is beautiful and Ellora is nice too but frankly, you need a lot of time on your hands if you want to cover just the two cave clusters. If you do have time on your side, make sure you cover them as well.
Apart from the famous caves, Aurangabad is host to a few other interesting avenues for travellers as well. To start with the ‘Bibi Ka Maqbara’ is a Mughal example of a son’s love for his mother and is often referred to as the ‘Taj of Deccan’ as it strongly resembles the Taj Mahal at Agra. Yet, there is much that sets it apart.
The Bibi Ka Maqbara.
The good part is that entry is open to the monument all day, from sunrise till 10 pm. No food or eats are allowed into the premises but there are ample options for street grub right outside the entrance, as with most tourist attractions. May I suggest some Nimbu Pani (Lime water) and soda before you start the tour.
It is smaller in size compared to the real Taj. Plus, it’s not just marble that has gone into building the Maqbara. Unlike the Taj Mahal, Plaster of Paris (PoP) is a major building material used in the construction of the Maqbara apart from marble.
As one walks onto the stone tiles which make up the pathways just while entering the front arch of the entrance gate, a sense of déjà vu takes over for a split second. For those who have seen the Taj Mahal that is. If you have a camera in your hand, you will probably end up being a part of the crowd trying to capture the classic middle of the arch shot.
Cliche’ or not, click it!
Stepping into the cool shade of the arch, one gets a full view of the Maqbara standing tall with all its opulence. One hundred rupees is what it will cost for a 7 minute snippet about the Bibi Ka Maqbara from a registered guide. The narration will tell you all that a tourist needs to know about the Maqbara and the stories behind it. You are also welcome to ask your guide all the questions you want to.
For those who have 5 minutes, watch this video:
Walking around in the lawns at the Bibi Ka Maqbara, one feels peace. The quiet is broken only by the distant chatter of tourists flocking to check out the Dargaah and intermittent whistles by the security guards. Not to forget the chirping birds.
Apart from ogling at the imposing white Maqbara standing bang in the middle of the premises, there is not much to do here. Sitting in the shade or watching the sunset while the time flies is something a lot of people come here to do. During the sunset, the game of lights played out on the white marble dome and minarets is worth watching. As the sun makes a dash for the horizon, colours of the sky have a magical effect on the white monument. It has to be seen to be believed. Much like the Real Taj.
After the Bibi Ka Maqbara and its lightness, spend the second day doing some hard core cardio. Climb the Daulatabad Fort, right to the top. Although it is a relatively small fort according to some, it has a very colourful lineage.
Originally known as Deogiri Fort, the famous Mughal ruler Mohammed-Bin-Tughlak renamed it Daulatabad when he shifted his capital from Delhi to Deogiri. Yes! There was a short period of time when Deogiri was the Capital of India. After which it became the capital of the Deccan region of India, thanks to Aurangzeb.
Also open from sunrise till evening, The Daulatabad Fort is one which is not overwhelming to the naked eye. One has to scratch the surface and blow away the dust to find some semblance of the history here. And only then, does the real beauty of this outpost in the hills get to you.
In over seven hundred year of existence, this fort has seen the rise and fall of over 8 kingdoms. I won’t spoil the entire mystery now, do some research for yourself!
More than seven hundred steps make up the mini trek up to the top of the Fort. Right from the start, as I entered the fort walls, what hit me was, the textures here. From the mammoth gate and its brass work to the wide flooring and numerous pillars at the Bharat Mata Mandir. My god was this place beautiful, that to under the mid-day sun.
Depth of field Nirvana! Daulatabad Fort.
The pillars at Bharat Mata Mandir. Daulatabad Fort.
This is a place where, as you go along reading about the various lines of defence and security measures in place, you find yourself marvelling at the meticulous planning and techniques adopted for building this fort. Even the hill on which the fort stands has been chiselled to make scaling the 200 meter height impossible.
An impressive cannon park greets you as you walk a little further in from the main entrance. Also, all over the fort are present many bastions, equipped with heavy cannons. The condition of the fort here is not very good but it’s not all that bad either. It was built to last. Many considered it to be invincible.
Great travellers like Ibn-e-batuta, Therenott and even Tavernier have graced this post.
An orange-ish tower is what will probably be the first to catch your attention as you approach the fort. Known as the Chand Minar, it is mighty tall and resembles the Qutab Minar at Delhi in many ways. Entry in to this monument is closed.
Chand Minar at Daulatabad Fort.
The cannons here are in splendid nick. (‘Tope‘ meaning cannon) The Mendha Tope and the Durga Tope are a sight to behold. Engravings on the Mendha Cannon christen it as the Qila-Shikan-Tope or the Fort Breaking Cannon.
The Fort breaking cannon.
As you puff your way upwards you will suddenly come across a dark dingy entrance. Known as the Andheri or the dark passage, its primary role as a line of defence was to baffle the incoming enemy and disorient him. As one ventures in, the smell of bat droppings is overwhelming. Make sure you carry a strong flash light. Zigzagging your way through you will come in to some light where one feels the dark walk is over but it is not. You enter the darkness a second time if you want to reach the top. You will have to brave bats at close range and don’t forget to cover your head!
Ready for the darkness!
Out and in light, moving further up, one comes across a few temples and meditating caves/shrines. These places have interesting stories behind them. We stopped and spoke to the only caretaker here. Listen to Rukmani bai tell you what she knows about the history of this fort.
Watch the video: (Duration: 10 Mins)
From the top, the view is panoramic, to say the least. Here, looking on, one can truly understand the placement of the cannon bastions and appreciate how effective they must have been in their day. This is not the biggest fort neither the most beautiful one but there is a lot more to a place than beauty and size. The Daulatabad fort has a soul to it. Look at it as a trek or a mere tourist destination, it is sure to involve you.
Especially for photography, the Bibi ka Maqbara and the Daulatabad Fort offer the opportunity for a photographer to go out of her/his comfort zone and push the boundaries of basics.
Speaking of which I should mention that the Bibi Ka Maqbara is managed by the Maharashtra state tourism department here and they have a couple of really funny (bordering on stupid) regulations once you’re in here. For instance, you can walk through the metal detector and into the premises with your camera and tripod but you cannot use the tripod or ‘stand’ as they call it. Also, as I mentioned earlier, no eats are allowed on to the lawns but when there, it’s easy to notice empty packets and wrappers strewn around on the grass (purpose defeated).
How can I not tell you where in Aurangabad do you get the real grub? I don’t know how.
So here goes. The food scene in Aurangabad comes alive after dark. In the day it’s your usual didley piddley restos along the road and all that. But if you’re serious about your food, head to the Taj Residency here. Order the Tom Yum Soup and sit pretty, this soup tastes awesome if you’re the kind who likes his twang.
Come dusk and the shutters roll up all over Aurangabad but nowhere more than at Boti Lane (Pronounced Booty). It is Aurangabad’s very own khau galli. Vegetarians beware! ‘Boti’ is the Urdu word for a tender piece of meat and that is all what you will find here.
Booty (Boti) Lane. Aurangabad.
Take a stroll along this alley and all you see are bright lights hovering over big dishes of pre-cooked Chicken 65 pieces and long skewers of Tandoori Chicken legs. Not to overlook, the beef here is some of the best I have ever had the good fortune of tasting. There is something about street food which gets all of us salivating, don’t you think?
‘Haath gaadis’ or ‘Thelaas’ or push carts as they are called make up one side of the street. The aromas in a place such as this can make you want to breathe double time and I mean that in a good way. We picked ourselves a cart and asked for seekh kebabs to be brought to us.
Served with two stems of mint leaves and a couple of lemon quarters, set beside a mini bowl of mint and curd chutney, they looked divine under the darkness mixed milky light of the street. Melt in your mouth texture of the meat coupled with the slightly watery, silk like feel of the chutney tripled with the lime mixed raw onion makes for a great early evening snack. Round 2 please!
For bike rides, food is essential. Not in a survival kind of way but in the way that one loves it. Be it healthy/unhealthy, simple/complex – whatever it is that floats your boat. Eat!
Guess what?! It’s Sunday night! Time to ride home and greet the grind. Chop chop!
Want to see more from Aurangabad? Click here.
It’s that time of year again. The mountains will soon echo with the sound of motorcycle engines. Hundreds of people will leave their homes and comfort zones alike, taking charge of their existence with the help of two wheels!
The things in life one decides to do before it’s too late are many. For a freakishly increasing number of motorcyclists in India, riding to Khardung La aka the Khardung pass a little distance from the town of Leh in Jammu & Kashmir, is the ultimate achievement.
To Khardung La!
It is a very personal experience and an equally personal endeavour, this. The Khardung La is located at a height of about 18380 Ft, on the way to the desert towns of Disket and Hunder. From the high altitude town of Leh (11000 Ft), the mountain pass is about 50 kilometres away.
If you think there are things in life more important than riding a motorcycle over maddeningly bad terrain and beautifully dangerous roads to the highest motor-able road in the world, just ask any Royal Enfield (Bullet) rider. She/he will surely set your thoughts straight.
Into The Mountains
For most bikers, riding in Ladakh on the mountain roads which wind their way through the Himalayas is a challenge. Everybody can do it but not everybody does. It takes courage of a different kind to actually set out on this special road trip. The hurdles a motorcycle and its rider face when on these high altitude roads are positively uncountable. Mind you, that is a major reason why one sets out on most adventures, isn’t it?
Night in the mountains.
Controlling a motorcycle while riding through slush, gravel, sand and even torrential streams are just some of the things a person on this endeavour will have to endure. Not undermining the fact that high altitude always has nasty surprises up its sleeve, if you aren’t acclimatised properly. The air is thin up there, oxygen is less and so is the room for error while riding on the ultra-narrow roads. Almost 85 % of the roads are mountainous where on one side is the mountain itself and the other side is a cliff or a raging river and no, seldom will you find any barricading to save you, if you’re planning on going over i.e.
Long way down!
One can never underestimate the power of the weather here. They say ‘If you don’t like the weather in Ladakh, just wait five minutes’ and it is actually true. The weather can change with every blink over the Ladakhi landscape. You will be treated to ice cold rain and snow, winds fast enough to throw you off your feet and people who are as beautiful as they are calm.
Whether you ride solo or you ride with a bunch of people like yourself, this adventure will affect you as an individual. Call it philosophy or call it spirituality, either way, you will be a changed person by the time you reach home. Many have said before that the isolated existence and the feeling of being removed from the ruckus of everyday life is the real reason why people go to this place. There is a lot more to Ladakh than just that. It is that place where no matter what your age, you will meet yourself, the real you.
We’re not going to talk about how one should take this trip. Frankly, we have no right. Do take the trip if you get a chance though. Leave that chair, head out, stretch right up and touch the sky.
Touch that sky!
Want to see more Pictures? Click on Leh & Ladakh.
Murud Janjira – fortress on water
Ever thought of a place, not too far away from civilization but still a gateway to peace?
The Janjira Fort
I, for one, am always on the lookout for such places. Sometimes, between the rigorous audits and the worrisome tax calculations, it is all but natural to get that feeling – the feeling to get away from it all. Even if it’s just for that one night two night sojourn.
Murud is a small coastal village. The thing about Murud is that one doesn’t even realize how close it is from the highly commercialized and run down beach towns of Kashid, Alibaug and the likes. A meager 12 kilometers down the road from Kashid, lies Murud and the adjacent hilltop village of Janjira.
The main reason for travelers coming here is the day visit to the Janjira fort. Standing tall in the middle of the Arabian Sea, it is visible from the Janjira village (also from the road which leads to the village). The fort is a brilliant sight during the evenings of January and February as the sun sets just beside the exterior walls.
One can take a 20 minute sail-boat ride across the waters, which will reach you to the entrance of the Janjira fort, which is when one notices the innovative construction techniques used while building this medieval building.
On the way to the fort, in the boat (while you are hanging on for dear life), your boatmen will give you a very brief historical overview of Janjira fort. In the most flamboyant of ways, one of the boatmen will narrate to you the story behind the mammoth water locked structure. This narration is free of cost of-course but the boat ride will cost you 20 INR to go to the fort and come back. The monologue lasts around 10 minutes and the second boatman then doubles as your guide at the fort – a further setback of 20 INR to your pocket i.e. if you choose to go with the guide.
You can of course head out onto the fort by yourself. Negotiating the fort interiors isn’t too much of a hassle. Just remember, the last boat to the mainland leaves around 6pm.
Our group of bikers chose to head into the fort ‘with’ the guide. After the precarious boat ride across the waters, you can’t help but think to yourself ‘this better be good’. Good, it is for sure.
The mammoth arched entrance greets you out of the blue (quite literally, read: innovative architecture). The entrance to Janjira fort is built at such an angle that at first glance from afar, one can’t notice it. A feature incorporated to make it difficult for marauding powers to get on to the fort floor.
‘Jump!’ said one of my friends as I tried to gain balance on the boat while trying to change lenses on my camera, as the boat load of passengers hopped onto the jetty. All of us managed to get off the boat without slipping on the wet staircase under the tall stone entrance. A reasonable feat, if you ask me.
As you walk into the fort, a sharp right marks your entrance. The journey begins from the fort floor and takes you around the various verandahs and gun posts present in the fort. It is not very well preserved, this fort. Of the many things you will see inside the fort walls, by far the most intriguing are the two fresh water ponds, which are quite noticeable.
The queens palace lies in ruins, though is still a sight. Midway, during the tour, the guides will tell you that you have 15 minutes to climb to the top of a bunch of flights of stairs to the top of a flag tower and come back in time for the rest of the tour.
We climbed up; the view from the top is nothing short of breath-taking. Quite literally, huffing and puffing we reached the top of the tower, totting our cameras every step of the way. From the top, one can see all four corners of the fort and standing there gives you a semblance of the sheer size of the Janjira fort.
Depending upon the time of day when you visit the Janjira fort, the light will play out. I suggest that one spend the day getting to know the town of Murud, probably take a stroll through the market and then head to the fort around early evening. 3pm would be the perfect time to queue up for the ferry ride to the fort and then you can catch the sunset. In this case you will probably reach Murud town by nightfall.
There is another small beach right next to the jetty from where boats leave for the fort. It’s not a particularly clean beach and neither is it very beautiful but like most things in life, it’s beautifully imperfect. When I came to this place the first time, I chanced upon this stretch of sand and walked onto it with my camera. Within a minute, I was surrounded by children from the village nearby and I got some of my best silhouette shots ever.
I don’t think this beach even has a name!
For the photographs from this beach: Click here.
The food situation here is decent. Murud is not particularly known for its cuisine but rest assured, you WILL find some tasty, taste bud tingling and semi-hygienic grub here. It’s a fishing village after all!
Head to the fish market after sunset and buy yourself some fresh catch. Give it to a local and let ‘em cook up your dinner.
Golden Swan beach resort is an up-market and beautifully put together hotel/resort/restaurant situated on the beach, near the start of the town when you are coming from Kashid (or Mumbai). The food here is very good and hygienic as well, decent vegetarian options are available too. If you plan to stay here, it will cost you anywhere between INR 3500 to INR 10,000, according to your choice of rooms and the number of people staying put. You will love the people here and the free roaming ducks too!
(Personal favourite: The Chinese food here is great and the Solkadi (A refreshing non-alcoholic drink, a speciality of Maharashtrian cuisine) is pretty darn good!)
For the budget traveller, there are quite a few small lodges and homes where home owners will let you share a room or two for a price. The costing for this type of accommodation can range from INR 300 to INR 700 depending upon the class of the place.
There are some run of the mill hotels and lodges too but they are situated off the Murud beach and are honestly a bit of a turn off. So that is a choice you are going to have to make.
The beach at Murud would give you ample opportunities to lounge around doing nothing or well, whatever you may please! I loved the photo opportunities here. The nights are equally majestic with the stars lighting up the sea. Do take a mid-night stroll, it’s totally worth it.
A weekend trip is enough time to take in most of what Murud and Janjira have to offer. For me though, it’s not so easy. I have been to the place thrice, once with friends, once solo and once with my lady but thrice is never enough!
Getting to Murud-Janjira:
Crank up that engine!
The rider and I by Nipun Srivastava
Take a bike ride. 170 kilometres from Pune and less from Mumbai, the ride to Murud will take about 4 hours.
Driving down is also a popular option. BUT. There is nothing worse than closed doors and rolled up windows of a car on serene roads.
You could also take the bus. ST or State Transport buses will get you to Kashid where a change of buses will see you walking the streets of Murud in no time. Be warned, these buses are seldom in good condition and almost always leave a painful mark on your back. Though travel in ST buses has a different thrill and it is also the cheapest way to get around.
However you do, do head out!
Want to see more photos? Click here.
About 150 kilometers south of Goa, Gokarna is home to some really appealing beaches. Primarily known for its ‘hippy’ crowd, it is a magnet for foreign tourists who are on a budget. As always, we were on motorcycles.
welcome to Gokarna
It had been a real task getting here as Gokarna is about 650 kilometers from Pune. We covered that distance in a little over 13 hours of pure, unadulterated motorcycle riding through intermittent rain and losing our way while crossing over the Western Ghats. Here, unless you’re staying at the shacks on Om beach, it is next to impossible trying to search for a place to stay at in the night. So our suggestion, if you’re driving/riding from Mumbai, leave early. There are other options of getting to Gokarna like taking a train or even buses. Both the trains and buses are reasonably reliable and will get you there in one piece (if you cross your fingers ;)).
Gokarna town is chaotic and haphazard for the most part. We somehow find it beautiful. The place is full of people. Make no mistake this is only Gokarna town that we talk about. The vibe in the town is quite different from the rest of Gokarna.
Om beach, which is about ten kilometers from the main town center, is the true Gokarn-ian destination. This stretch of smooth winding road gives you views of the Arabian Sea in the most flattering of ways. This small journey is very beautiful, especially during the evenings.
the spectacular view
Om beach is so named because it looks like the Hindu symbol of worship Om (aum), when observed from a distance. A quaint and quiet calm prevails over this beach at all times. The slow pulsating waves that break on the golden brown sand titillate the senses and conjure peace in the mind.
A very endearing beach café and the only one of its kind, Dolphin Bay Café, sits right in the middle of Om beach. Appropriately named, you will often find many local boatmen with their boats lined up; ready to take tourists out to sea, to watch dolphins. Interesting as it may sound, we’re not sure about the environmental impact these shabbily organized and orchestrated tours actually have on the dolphins. It’s not healthy for their habitat in most cases, we’ve learnt. These boat rides are not very expensive and one can be hired for about 500 Indian rupees.
a titillating peace
The Dolphin bay cafe is a very interesting place indeed. Laxman, the De-facto manager of the cafe will try and first- understand you and second- make you what you asked for. The easiest thing to order here, like anywhere else, is beer of course. Evenings couldn’t be more magical here, the color of the skies and the water are refreshing.
In and around Gokarna there are a bunch of beaches which are not just beautiful but are also different from the regular run off the mill beach idea. For instance, Paradise beach, (yes!) Paradise is situated south of Om beach, about a 20 minute boat ride away. What’s special is that there is no access to this beach by land. It is also very small as far as the sand bank is concerned, which adds to its charm.
There is a huge restaurant on Paradise beach which serves very good Punjabi food. Also, for the offbeat traveller, there are shacks available. Why offbeat? Because once the tide comes in, the boats can’t dock on the beach. So you’re pretty much water locked on two sides and land locked on the other two. Staying here should be fun!
view from restaurant at Paradise Beach
Kudle’ and Half Moon are the other beaches around the town of Gokarna, Half Moon being the more remote one. They have a decent reputation and are of course very beautiful but plan to stay here only if you’re coming during the ‘season’. Else a passing visit to these two beaches is more than enough.
The beach near Gokarna town is also a pretty place. This beach is more interesting during sun up. Life here is an apparent presence, if you catch our drift.
Every day, there can be seen whole families of fishermen heading out to sea to catch fish. This beach is a busy place, not in the tourist sense though. People here who live with the Sea, live off it too. Sure there are the cafés and the shacks and you might even find a couple of bikers with their tents pitched on the beach too. Gokarna though, has a lot more to it.
out to sea
Religion, predominantly Hinduism is a huge part of Gokarna. Temples and shrines present the real reason of existence for this town. There is a lot of folk lore about the ‘atmalinga’ which some claim rests at one of the temples here. Gokarna is home to a host of interesting avenues for those on a quest for knowledge about the religious aspects of this little temple town.
All said and done though, Gokarna is both for the lighthearted traveller as well as the one who finds solace in beer, bohemia and banter – not that the former doesn’t enjoy the latter. Anyone would simply love the aura of Gokarna.
Want to see more photos? Click on Gokarna
Hedvi – Motorcycle Paradise.
Give me a place I can be myself.
Give me the pleasure of connecting with my soul.
Give me my space to dream.
Let my essence come to the surface.
Let me, for my life back home, reccaliberate.
Let me sing my song.
I want to win the world.
I want to LIVE my life.
I want to fly.
Give me Hedvi.
The quintessential beach destination for any biker, come here to ‘touch’ your old self. Listen to your heart tell you what it really wants from life. Take a dip in the sea of peaceful waves breaking on the brown sand. Forget about where you came from. Head out towards where you want to be. Hedvi will take you there.
There is a lot more I can say about this haven. It is a special place for all us men and women the world considers as outsiders or weird. There is something about a flimsy shack near the beach, something about that voice of the ocean every time you close your eyes. That something which makes sweet sweat fall from your chin, that something which wakes you up early with the sun shining through bamboo weaves. Something, which is in drinking a litre of Solkadi every day that you spend here. What I can’t do is explain it with words, that something, it’s just Hedvi.
On the west coast of India, Hedvi is a small stretch of sand 200 kilometres north of Goa. Guhagar, another beach close to Hedvi is a major tourist centre. That is all anyone will tell you, especially us Enfield riders. Further, if you really deserve Hedvi, you will find it – On the road, on those two wheels standing in your garage right now.
Sun, sand and sea.
Take the Nh-17 and head out towards Goa if you’re coming from Mumbai or the north. Remember one thing, if you’ve reached a place called Chiplun (coming from Mumbai), you’ve missed the right turn towards Guhagar.
If you’re on the right track and lucky, you will see almost blank concrete sign posts telling you where you should be headed.
Ask people, that’s the easiest way to find the right direction in India. If you reach the beach without getting lost even once, do write me a mail. I’ll send over a bottle of wine. Honest!
Isn’t it just another beach?
So is Baga in Goa, Kendwa in Zanzibar, Murud – Janjira in Maharashtra. Hedvi is not the prettiest beach in the world but it is the most beautiful. If, you can understand the vibe present in this coastal village. I would say, take your time.
Do not head to Hedvi just for the heck of it, for that there is Goa and its booze soaked pleasures. Hedvi is for the mature traveller, the one who understands the depth of travel and is ready to put up with big fire ants.
If you’re the type who thinks a getaway is a place where you dance till you drop and drink till you puke with a Dj playing you’re favourites, you’re right in thinking that Hedvi is a bore. On the other hand, if you’re a Motorcycle man/woman, you’ll know what I mean when I say that we can dance and drink even at Hedvi, with a twist nonetheless.
To the beach we’ll ride.
What else is around?
Well, not that it matters when you’re at Hedvi but there are a couple of interesting temples around. There is one major Laxmi Ganesh Temple in the main village, located atop a small hillock. Vehicles can drive right up to the temple gates. There is a second smaller temple on Hedvi beach itself, frequented mostly by village folk.
Next, during high tide i.e. at night, you can make your way alongside the coast to the gorge. Every time a big wave comes in, water shoots up the gorge into the air. Getting to the gorge is a bit of a trek and you need to remember how you got there or else if the tide gets too high, you might end up getting water locked. This happened to a friend of mine and me once. Carry a big, powerful flashlight.
There is a small stream which runs into the sea on the beach itself. This is a great place for bird watching early in the mornings and awesome for photography at sunset.
Playing in the sand!
First things first, the Solkadi at Hedvi is by far the best that can be found anywhere in the world. Solkadi is a Maharashtrian drink/cooler cum digestive. When in Hedvi, I personally forget about liquor and stick to this pink nectar. Made with Kokam and coconut milk, it will refresh your senses and give your pallet something to think about. All this while making sure you head to the throne soon enough. Worth it!
Solkadi. The pink potion.
Grub, for vegetarians at Hedvi is no problem as veggie curries etc. are easy to order and easy to prepare for the family with whom essentially you will be staying.
For non – vegetarians on the other hand, chicken is available. If you want fish you need to inform your hosts in advance. Mutton, if you want it, will have to be bought by you from the Guhagar street market and cooked by you too, if you can handle it.
The typical Hedvi meal.
There is only one spice option available here, very spicy, no matter how well you explain blandness to your cook.
Taadi – or the local intoxicant (drink) is also available here. You can see farmers climb up coconut trees (from which the Taadi is extracted) and bring it down for you! It’s a very harsh drink and is not for the faint hearted drinker.
Beer is available on order but don’t go looking for brands like Tuborg or Carlsberg. Kingfisher is available, be happy. There is always the option of carrying your own booze.
Stay and accommodation
Alright, so there are shacks and they aren’t really on the beach. Though there is a broad treeline between your only accommodation option and the beach. You will realise, this too adds to the beauty of the place.
‘Suruchi’ is the name of the place where you can stay at Hedvi. The hotel is named after the daughter of the owner, Mr Bhatkar, who is also a resident on the same property. There are two couples shacks and three couples rooms along with three slightly bigger halls which can be occupied by groups/big families etc. Hygiene might be a concern for people who’d rather nit-pick than enjoy a vacation. It’s no 5 star this place.
There is ample parking space here, right in front of your rooms – another reason for it being a hit with bikers. When you park though, make sure there aren’t any coconuts dangling over your vehicles. There is nothing worse than waking up to a nasty dent on your baby. Also, the ladies and waiter or two will make sure you get tea, water and solkadi to your hearts content all through the day. For the finicky ones, there is always the STD booth/grocery store. Yes, they keep cold mineral water.
Before you leave
You will want to make sure you don’t need to use your cell phone as there is no network here. You may chance upon a couple of bars of signal if you are on the beach. Otherwise, the only option to connect with the outside world is an STD booth in the village near the beach. That always works fine.
Evening at Hedvi
Fire ants are huge here, thanks to the coconut trees. Big, red and ready to bite! Don’t walk barefoot in the grass or you’ll end up jumping all afternoon. Scorpions and tree snakes also frequent this joint, you’re the outcast here, deal with it. For supplies, the STD booth in the village is attached to a tiny grocery shop where you will get basic stuff like hair oil and toothpaste. Don’t go looking for tissues or baby wipes, they are a myth in this part of the country.
Make sure you order your meal at least 2 hours before lunch or dinner or else you will have to suffer. Otherwise there is tea and solkadi available always.
For motorcyclists and specially Enfield riders, there are two local mechanics here, Sandeep and Dinesh. They can handle minor problems and small electrical troubles on your bikes. To call the mechanics, get in touch with Mr Bhatkar. Basic medical facilities are also available at Hedvi, there is a very small hospital, only advisable for first aid though. Chiplun, a town about 70 kms away is where good medical facilities are available.
Bonfires are a treat here, make sure you and your group experience this under the stars and in the shadows of the tall trees. Please don’t litter at Hedvi.
That’s the end of the travel jargon. Enjoy your trip to Hedvi!
P.S: You want Mr Bhatkar’s Phone number don’t you? Well, e-mail me and you’ll get it!
Hedvi is the holy grail for a Bulleteer.
Want to see more photos? Click on Hedvi
For those of you who have read through this article, here’s a treat – The Firelords Hedvi ride video of 2012!
Hampi – The Vijayanagar Empire.
It is a village about 850 kilometers from Mumbai, it lies close to the town of Hospet in the Southern Indian state of Karnataka. Hampi is less a medieval ruin site and more a wonder of nature. The views of the landscape here are full of boulders and hills of boulders in various sizes and shapes. Hampi is a site located within the ruins of the Vijayanagar Empire. It is older than the medieval city of Vijayanagara and is still of much religious importance. Home to the Virupaksha Temple – the main center of pilgrimage here and dedicated to Lord Shiva.
On the banks of The Tungabhadra river which flows through Karnataka into Andhra Pradesh, Hampi is not just a religious stop for the Indian traveler but is also a place of wonder and amazement for the foreign tourist.
Below is a photographic account of what I saw at Hampi and also what I think of it.
The gateway to Hampi
As one rides through the surrounding towns like Gadag and Hospet taking one towards Hampi, one starts to feel the excitement building up inside.
The entrance to Hampi does rather well to instil even more wonder into one’s mind.
The best season to visit Hampi is around September to November I would say, it’s neither too wet nor too hot.
God of the Gopurams
The Virupaksha Temple from the inside.
Major monuments in Hampi require you to buy a pass which is managed by the tourism department.
One drawback being that the passes are pretty expensive for foreign nationals when compared with tariffs for Indian citizens.
The land of perplexing opposites
Beautiful architecture and ruined rock – cut structures all claim the land.
On one hand, temples of the Vijayanagar Empire poke ones spiritual inner self and on the other the awesome expanse of ruins spread as far as the eyes can see make one wonder, how?
The Vitthala Temple Mahamandapa
This structure is in danger of falling apart, with every monsoon, more steel pillars are used to support and keep the structure upright.
The Stone Chariot at Vitthala Temple
This Chariot is by far one of the most enchanting pieces of carvings in Hampi. It is believed that the wheels are capable of revolving.
The Nandi Bull at Kamalapur Museum
The Museum has a vast collection of miniature carvings up on display.
Visiting the museum is a good way of spending a lazy afternoon here.
Also, next to the museum lie the grand elephant stables of the royal elephants.
The Lotus Mahal is an awesome amalgamation of religion and culture. Huge arches on all sides and pyramidal towers. It is the best preserved stately monument at Hampi.
The Elephant Stables
Hampi and Kamalapur, two neighboring villages and the roads between them are lined with these imposing stone cut gates built hundreds of years ago.
Dusk and the Virupaksha
In the evenings, the beauty of the place just reaches a whole new dimension.
Nandi temple. Way to Vijayavitthala. Mathanga hills
The sheer Magnitude of everything around, from the crazy rock formations to the imposing Gopurams of Temples just keeps one on the feet.
Walking trails and riding the roads through villages to get to even more sites of splendour.
Colours of South India
Street photography in India is not the toughest of things to do.
The people of India seldom refrain from posing for a picture.
An example from Hampi!
This group of effervescent friends were quick to ask me for a picture.
What’s more, they didn’t even ask for a copy!
Strange things happen in India.
Only in India.
The KSTDC tourist hotel
Karnataka State Tourism Development Corporation.
The rooms are neat and there are three types available, Regular, Deluxe and Super deluxe.
There is also the Presidential suite for the slightly extravagant.
Rs 3500 per night and President Pratibha Patil’s room is all yours!
The food is decent and your waiter will be more than happy to help out with special requests.
The staff at this KSTDC resort at Kamalapur, 4kms from the Virupaksha temple made my stay as comfortable as could be.
Right from warning me about the scorpions in the bathroom to making sure I had well cooked mutton for dinner every day.
Eeveryone here made sure that I took back memories which I would cherish for a log time.
Like every adventure, this solo bike ride was a learning experience. Not only did I meet a lot of different people, but also, learnt that life is beautiful and travel is the way to appreciate ones existence.
The Virupaksha Temple gopuram cradling the sun during sunset.
Want to see more photos? Click on Hampi
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