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Left Hand Drive Through Rajasthan |
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Every time, I have traversed through Rajasthan, her distinct individuality has struck me. The soil of medieval royalty, adorned with a beauty both topographically and culturally rich.
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Palaces, forts, jungles, sand dunes, lakes and brightly dressed people who follow a tradition of valor and bravery.
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On two separate occasions I have traveled across Rajasthan by road, driving most stretches myself. Both times it was an exciting experience, lending the tour an element of flexibility. Just set your own pace and enjoy the amazing variety of the land of the Rajputs.
By the time Teji, his friend and I managed to leave Delhi for Jaipur, it was 12.30 in the afternoon. The entire morning had been spent in repairing the fiat Ritmo Deisel whose battery was discharging due to a faulty I.C. Besides, the vehicle was a left-hand drive, and each time I reached for the gears, I’d find the signal lever! The journey of 261 kilometers down NH 8 was rather stressful, due to the narrow escapes caused by misjudgments of a first “left-hand-drive” experience. Teji’s friend drove over two huge boulders on the side of the road, with a sickening thud, which bent the two left wheel rims. I missed an on-coming truck by inches, my judgment going haywire due to a new driving position. It basically took some time, getting over the American culture shock on a British style highway!
Named after Maharaja Jai Singh 11, Jaipur is a good introduction to Rajasthan. Camel carts, brightly turbaned men, gaily dressed women, teem down the precisely laid out broad streets of this neatly planned city. The famous Hawa Mahal (palace of the wind), a five storeyed red-sandstone building, with semi-octagonal lattice windows. City Palace, majestic with courtyards, gardens and halls. The fascinating Jantar Mantar observatory. Curious structures designed for the precise measurement of star positions, altitudes, azimuths and eclipses. Amber fort is not to be missed, being the imposing capital site of Jaipur state. The tall stonewalls of the fort enclose one of the finest examples of Rajput architecture, overlooking a lake with a beautifully laid out garden in the center. Apart from the other buildings, the Jain Mandir is known for its superb mirror inlay work.
We left for Ajmer after dark at about 7.00 p.m., estimating about two and a half hours of driving. To our dismay, the battery began discharging again, as soon as the headlights were switched on. Since the cooling fan ran on an electrical system, we could not afford to overheat the engine. So switching off the headlights we drove along blindly down the pitch-dark highway. It was harrowing. It also took us four hours. The first time we stopped for a cuppa the car refused to start. Even pushing did not help. Finally we had to flag down a truck to tow the car into rejuvenation. The second time we switched the ignition off, both by habit and by mistake, we faced a similar problem. Thereafter it was rel9igiosly seen to, that there was not a third time till we reached our destination-Ajmer.
A green oasis, surrounded by dry hills, this ancient city was annexed by Akbar in 1556, because of its strategic importance. Around the same time it became the shrine of the famous Muslim saint, Khwaja Muin-ud-din Chisti. Since then Ajmer has remained a revered Muslim pilgrimage. Akbar also gets the credit for building the dominating fort here. Nearby at the base of Taragarh hill, is the Adhai-din-ka-Jhonpra, described by experts as a rare sample of Hindu architecture.
Pushkar was a mere 11 kilometers away. We drove past this tranquil lake, surrounded by green hills on three sides, the fourth opening out into the rugged bronze arid terrain. It brought back a kaleidoscope of memories of the spectacular Pushkar fair, frequented annually by over 1,50,000 people creating an unforgettable scenario.
The three of us in the Fiat Ritmo, then proceeded on to Bombay-Mangalore-Trivandrum going through one of the craziest driving experiences I have ever had. We drove for 22 hours again following truck backlights through the night. Basically the same problems continued till the end of the journey.
I came back to Rajasthan on a separate trip by road, reliving past memories and eventually found myself on the long lonesome highway from Ajmer to Jodhpur. The green hills from Jaipur onwards, had dried out into a vast scrubland. Occasionally, a large herd of sambar deer would cautiously view the passing vehicles from a distance. The monotony of the drive was broken by small townships and settlements.
I was really eager to get to Jodhpur. Beautiful Jodhpur. With the mammoth Mehrangarh Fort overlooking the blue and white houses of the sprawling city; from over the tops of the fort walls, punctuated with canons. The exquisite carving in nearby Jaiswanrtara, a royal cenotaph of white marble, is definitely a sight not to be missed. I even drove down to Mandore, the ancient capital of Marwar, and wandered around admiring the well-maintained gardens, carved stone temples, cenotaphs, and relief sculptures of Rajasthani heroes.
On my way out of Jodhpur, I stopped for a beer, in full Rajasthani grandeur, at the Umaid Bhavan Palace. It was a great parting memory except that an hour later on the highway, my radiator sprung a leak. Considering the long uninhabited stretches through the dusty Thar Desert, I went through sheer hell. With each stop I filled up the radiator and tried to fix the leak with a new substance. M-Seal, flour dough, flour dough with lime, cotton and soap, gentle words, mud, curses, just name it. In the end I gave up and kept my two 10-litre jerry cans full of water from wherever I could, to constantly replenish the steaming radiator. I limped into Jaisalmer, dog weary, irritable, covered with dust and sweat… welcome to the Golden Fort.
Jaisalmer is one of the most exotic towns in the whole of Rajasthan. Rawal Jaisal built the fort over eight centuries ago in 1156 A.D. I reached the town. The soaring walls of the fort were glowing golden in the rays of the fort were glowing golden in the rays of the setting sun, making it seem to rise out of the surrounding yellow sand. Despite the rigors of chugging in with an overheated engine. I had to stop and appreciate this wonderful sight.
All buildings were made of the same yellow sandstone, lending the town a sense of inherent golden harmony. And the havelis… the most exquisite I have ever seen. Entire facades are intricately sculpted with amazing craftsmanship. Patwuon ki Haveli and Salim Singh ki Haveli are two of the many beautiful residences here. Within the fort, one can indulge in several interesting walks down cobbled lanes, and along the high fort walls overlooking the town and far reaching desert. All roads eventually emerge at the main quadrangle. Jain Temples of 12th to 15th century are worth visiting.
While the old wagon was being fixed, I took a jeep safari into the desert. It turned out to be one of the most exciting trips in my life, through clusters of beautiful cenotaphs at Baba Bagh, into the deserted villages, where the temples and odd buildings were intact, but the people had left due to a water crisis.
Kandiyala was another strange place. Having traveled over scores of sandy desert track, off the metalled road, I arrived at this small Muslim village, close to which in the rocky environs were strewn dark brown stones. Some shaped like a coconut, some like a walnut, and the odd one like the lower end of a golf club! Strange thing was that when you broke them open, they were hollow inside, with beautiful colors with some loose sand in the cavity. Intriguing colors of black, brown to dark blue or golden yellow.
Within 15 minutes of leaving Kandiyala, I suddenly saw a jeep tyre, merrily roll by my window! That was a bit strange, wasn’t it? And sure enough as soon as the thought registered, the jeep collapsed. The wheel had snapped off from the axle, brake drum and all. And so I found myself, walking in hot afternoon sun of Thar, back to Kandiyala. I was stuck there till two in the morning, till a truck passed by and I bought a lift upto Jaisalmer. But the villagers had kept me occupied with Rajasthani folk songs and a few impromptu dances, around the glow of a cheerful the crystal studded desert sky.
I woke up at first light, retracing my tracks upto Pokaran, where I stopped for tea and Kachories, (snacks) and made polite conversation with the red turbaned teashop owner. I set out on the black ribbon highway, rising and dipping over the occasional hillock, with the frighteningly beautiful emptiness of the desert on either side. It was hot and dusty as I reached the welcome oasis of Gajner where I breathed some cool air. The perennial lake here, attracted many wild duck and some rare species of sand grouse, along with black buck, sambar deer and wild boar. The Summer Palace of the Maharaja of Bikaner was a well-chosen and well-located spot. I got to Bikaner by lunchtime, with enough inclination left to wander around Lal Garh Palace, where I was staying. I even had the opportunity to meet the late Karni Singh, the last Maharaja of Bikaner, also the star of the Indian shooting team. I was dumbfounded by the beauty of the huge ballrooms, with massive crystal chandeliers, indoor swimming pool with stained glass doors, ornate sitting rooms, and a stylish bedroom.
Junagarh Fort was another example of superb Rajasthani architecture with most of its decorative grandeur intact, gold gilded rooms with a red upholstered throne, a beautifully tiled room with a traditional punkah (fan) for air. Massive royal portraits. Entire walls with lattice windows of small colored glass. The town has a series of old and new temples, with believers milling in and out for the morning and evening prayers. Deshnooke Temple of Karni Mata, famous for its habitation of white rats, was remarkable.
The amazing factor about traveling through Rajasthan is the constant visual foreplay. One is forever being faced with an array of inimitable palaces, forts, sculptures, paintings, intricate facades, temples, and the characteristic Rajasthani cenotaphs. All alive and rich in their historic beauty and architectural lines. Yet none so alive as the Rajasthani folk, with their bright attire and hardy bodies. Tall men proud in turbans, moustaches or beards. Gaily dressed women with a lot of silver jewellery, risking shy glances from their veils. Smiling children, weather-beaten old men. All this topped with the stark landscape stretching beyond the horizon, with the undulating gentleness of sand-dunes, ripped with the breeze. It is a most gratifying experience leaving with the knowledge that there is always plenty to witness.
Bikaner to Delhi is 528 kilometers and is possible to reach in a day. One goes via Churu, famous for it’s sand dunes and extreme temperatures. Also famed are the fire dances of this district, and I will never forget the morning I saw the event. I had driven down from Bikaner to Dungargarh in Churu district, reaching there at about 11:30 at night. I was taken, home by the local pandit and treated warmly in typical Rajasthani hospitality. The dance began at 1 a.m. in the morning, with a prologue of five singers chanting to beating drums and clashing bells around a huge fire, People were gathered around the warm glow, listening to the haunting music, swelling and ebbing like a swaying Greek chorus.
This went on for almost an hour till the fire was reduced to red embers. The dancers in the meantime had done a small ceremonious puja, and now were in a kind of hypnotic trance, stamping and circling around the fire, with exaggerated hand movements. They then began to dance over the fiery coals in their hands and some even placed them in their mouths. The rhythm was up-tempo, egging the dancers into paroxysms of movement. I was sitting there enraptured by the entire ceremony, from the slow chanting build up, to an intense crescendo. It was thrilling. It was not surprising that when I reached Delhi, my multitudes of such memorable projections.
Courtesy : Discover India
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