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)
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.