Rajasthan – Cynosure of Bhansali’s big hit

Part 3

The next day I woke up to a fuss. My friends were bustling around, in the room ,speaking in a hushed tone. Before I said a word, I was told to show up at the breakfast table, along with my luggage, as we were checking out right after. At full tilt, I got ready , wrapped my stuff and made it to the table in no time . I gazed at the deliciously attractive breakfast while my friends were gobbling down the food with all possible haste, already.
Everyone at the table were having a good time until Ma’am asked us to make it quick. At once, we all marched towards the coach ,dragging the luggage behind us.

The journey could have been more fun if some of us would not be snoring loudly , lolling our heads on each others shoulders and dozzing off but it was tiring , how we mooched around the market the previous evening.Good music and a long journey is a mood, we all know.Hrishikesh, being the Debbie Downer of our group ,for a change ,came up to us with glad tidings-an announcement regarding the lunch. ‘Si, Si” and we all hopped down at a Dhaba in Bhilwara . A meal after the so called diurnal nap was indeed pleasurable. We ordered a few cold drinks against eventuality as it was goshdarn hot and Chittorgarh was approximately 60 miles farther away.

On arrival at Chittor fort’s foothills , there were gypsys, awaiting us .The journey from the foothills to the fort in OPEN gypsies was supposed to be pleasant but remember the month we were travelling in?Exactly.The gypsy drivers were escorts themselves ,that helped us get the right information of the history of the former capital of Mewar. The fact that it is a world heritage site had made us more attentive. (howbeit, we had to submit a report afterall.)
The fort was not exactly as I imagined it to be. My eyes rolled in all directions, over 700 acres, that boasted the ruins of the palaces, fortess,temples,etc. Exhausted by ages of existing and watching glories, battles and generations ,the ruins appeared fragile.The main area of the palace was called as Kumbha mahal. That was the area where the royal family lived.The fun fact was, it had a secret undergroud passage for women to reach the bathing area without being seen ,to the nearby pond.Honestly, such facts interest me .Thereafter, I was heaved to Jain and Hindu temples in the area.Now I know, being an atheist cannot be an excuse to not visit temples because the carved deities on the doors and most importantly , the ‘shikaras‘ are worth capturing.

We got back into the gypsies to proceed towards Vijay stambh- a tall pillar built on the occasion of the victory of Rana Kumbha over sultan of Malwa.Open gypsies were a reason we could all yell and greet the natives,straight up . The women mostly blushed and the men giggled in their hoarse voices. Speaking of Vijay Stambh , there are numerous hindu deities carved on the pillar, that depict the nine avatars of Vishnu. The interesting part about history and the elderly generation is that ,everything around them has a story to tell and trust me, Rajasthan is all about stories.

The next stop was at Queen Padmini’s Palace. For most of us who had no clue of a famous beauty at that time, Sanjay Leela Bhansali( a known bollywood film director) sort of enlightened us. Although he had to face a lot of condemnation for portyal of the stories in the newfangled way, he managed to release the movie, sooner or later .

Stories of ” Rani Padmavati” are exceptionally dearer to the Rajput community and that was reflected through the way they narrated it.
“The tale began in the early 12th century” the guide exclaimed “Rawal Ratan Singh who was a noble ruler of the kingdom of Mewar , had fourteen queens, the youngest one being the honoured, Rani Padmini.Her beauty was compared to the Indra’s celestial nymphs and her skin was so transparent that when she would drink water it could be easily seen through her throat”.

This isn’t a convincing story, I thought to myself. Also these things can be easily spurned ,meaning, the tales were either exaggerated or were a gush of hyperbole but it is undeniable that the queen must have been a real beauty. Inspite of watching the movie(Padmavat) and dealing with the whole’ short attention span ‘ issue, I buttoned my lips and listened to him. He went on…”Alauddin Khilji, the Sultan of Delhi, when heard about her beauty expressed his desire to meet her. Although Rawal Ratan Singh would not let that happen, he agreed on showing him, her reflection. Having Khilji’s eyes laid on her reflection,Khilji was startled by her beauty and wanted her for himself. Directly after, he attacked the fort to win her over, but she commited Jauhar (self immolation), thereby defeating Khilji’s aim and their honour”.Not to mention but this part of the fort had my attention for the longest time.

Just after we thought, we were done acknowleding the grandeur of the city of Chittorgarh, the gypsy drivers took us to the local handicrafft store. We walked in, nudging each other, hoping we would find something to fill our display racks back at home .I wouldnt say we do not have a materialistic lifestyle, but a very few of us actually bought the souveniers. But the scented sarees had our attention. A ‘saree’ is an ideal gift for women in India and thats what a few dutiful sons and daughters did; got a couple of them for their mothers.

After having sensed a very vibrant and zesty vibe, seeking through the handicrafts and handlooms in there, we made a departure. The rest of the little story at that place, revolves around me being shitscared by the monkeys and getting mocked (hopefully one last time)by my friends.

It was time to check in at some hotel .As much as I know of, all my friends are very enthusiastic about new hotel rooms. That somehow made them act like they were bitten by bugs. Nevermind, we all are ludicrous beings. Against all our expectations of the journey to the resort, we were undergoing a scary transfer.We travelled a long way inland to a large clearing, when most of us, fretted uncharacteristically. Except things took a turn for the better( quite literally) ; Ma’am announced that our next stay would be Jungle Resort.The announcement brought with it a long pause followed by an applause.( I had started to believe, that was just a puerile way to show excitement).
I peered at the surrounding from afar. I could locate a few rooms and a dimly lit big space in the forefront.I am terrible at the guessing game, but this somehow felt right. Since the coach could’nt go too far from the main road ,the jeeps picked and dropped us at the resort, in turns.

Immediately after shifting my luggage to the room, I approached the big lawn-like space in the forefront. The view embraced benches arranged with eatables on them and set of chairs hidden partially in the dark .Not to overlook, the music system in the obscure corner ,that resembled a bigger version of a ghetto box .I’d always cherish this unforeseenly calm and heartneing welcome except for the pups that hopped between our chairs while we enjoyed the ‘pakodas’. Well, our joyous moods had different reasons.
A full course dinner followed by dancing and chattering under the stars, relatively far away from the city noise was an ideal night. I would like to elaborate on “chattering under the sky”.We shared scary stories, snarled and spared no effort to make vicious noises. That was just an attempt to make it a remarkable,spooky night, which it was. Just when I thought it would get better , it did. We had a little horse riding session, right before we retired for the night. Well ,all the more details of the day would just be plethoric. Sigh.

Regal Forts of the Royals

Part 2

At 11 , the next morning, we had reached the “seat of power”- The Amer Fort. An elephant ride to the fort would have been like reliving the past all over cobbled pathways. But since we had a lot of zoophilists in our group, it was a big no-no. Anyway, Jeeps would cost us more than KFC’s tenders and wedges so we chose our limbs! (T’was a tough one. No?). The elevation looked too much for my knees.(I feel like an old woman in many ways).My sudden dramatic proclamation that I would be ‘crawling’ all the way up had shocked and perplexed my coterie of friends, except for Rasika- who had unvarying intensions. The well-versed group of mates was thrilled to visit a UNESCO world heritage site but for chumps like me and my little team, all the efforts were merely to witness the locations where Jodha Akbar, Bajirao Mastani, Khoobsurat, Bhool Bhulaiyya, etc were shot.

Ganesh Pol

“The hard part is over,” I thought to myself on reaching the Jaleb Chowk-the soldier quarters.We noticed we had reached the gate only when we spotted a steady flow of foreigners waiting for entry tickets. That was when we traced double entrances, Chand Pol and Suraj Pol for the Royal family and the commoners. We commenced with the greatly emphasized Ganesh Pol- the majestic looking gateway that provided access to the private areas of the Palace.It had diminutive windows on the superior portion, known as Suhag mandir, through which the queens could witness the victory parades. That was just a glimpse of the opulent lifestyles of the royal families in the past.In the heartland, we started with Diwan-i-Khas, the hall of private audience, a now, foyer complex, where the king met his subjects and officials. Then we traversed along with the Sheesh Mahal (Rendezvous Hall of the Royals), which boasted the mirror aesthetics. That was when I overheard a guide mentioning about the fact that only 2 candles could be enough to light up the whole complex. I fancy infinite reflections and intricate work for I’ve watched too much of Bhansali’s work recently and I’d bet he does too. I kept bumping into more foreigners as I was making my way to the Shila Devi temple.It is believed that the king offered prayers in the temple, before wars. Some even suggest that human sacrifices were made here.Further, into the searing setting, I could see Diwan-i-Aam which was an assembly hall where the king would address the problems of the commonality. And the last remark being, Sukh Niwas – The Private Hall of Pleasure where the king rested. The place of ivory-emblazoned sandalwood doors stimulating olfactory senses was glee. Although history had never amazed me, neither have I been a fan of it, but the queer stories of the royal families and the elegant designs had resonated with me so well, I sensed the blessedness.

As the noon wore on, we dined at a local restaurant where I forcibly gulped down a couple of beverages to uphold myself in the heat. But I was warned that I won’t be able to get rid of the uncanny feeling while we drive uphill through the rickety gateways to the 18th-century fort, Nahargarh.

On reaching the parking space, I was told that we had to walk for a a while to get to the fort.The only motivation, we collectively had, was a water dispenser! Yes.(Incase you’re wondering about the juice I gulped down earlier, yeah I was mocked by these asses,for that)
During that  15 minutes brisk walk to the fort, I broke 2 things and was about to break the third.First and foremost,One of my saviour friends, Hrishikesh’s cellphone, followed by his heart and lastly,on the brink of breaking , my head!
Unexpectedly, he did not hammer my head, instead gave a disconcerting smile!(Im still embarassed. tbh.)
I realised, things were back to normal when everyone had started looking for the water dispensers again! Apparently, the ones who sprinted, could track one.
Meandering in and around the only unconqueredfort had led us to corridors decorated with delicate murals.The guide told us tales of the fort, built by Sawai Madhi Singh,and that, it had 12 matching boudoirs for the queens, at the head of which was a suite for the king. It wasnt late for us to realise that the queen chambers were all connected through secret passeges to the king’s suite. (KA BOOOM! cool kids of the royal family) This place was smeared with coutyards and little spaces.The spendid view into the valley that once constituted the kingdom of Amer and far beyond,from atop the fort, cannot be overlooked (I’d bet dollars to doughnuts.)After a lot of vagabonding, all of us , one after one ,gathered under a shady tree. A few almost took a catnap there.

Jal Mahal

On our way back to the resort ,we had a photostop at the most photographed monument in India-the Jal Mahal, that floats in the centre of the Man sagar lake.Although the reach of the monument is off limits, we spent a beautiful evening around there. I wouldn’t lie about the calm view of the water palace amidst the chaos of Jaipur.The day did not end there.Before returning to the resort, we all stopped at the Bapu Market for bargain hunting.

I was sure of the amazing night that was approaching .It was Sayali’s birthday and we were about to have a small celebration at night followed by Antakshari by the pool.We actually brought into being, the idea of a little birthday bash.It almost made me miss my little soirees back at home.

PS . All the photographs are clicked by the same guy who’s phone I broke. 🙂

A Whiff of Royalty in the ‘Pink City’

Part 1
I had calmed down enough to face the fact that I was about to travel to Rajasthan in ‘summer’. My followers would know, I travel to places at worst times possible. Even though it was an ill-timed decision of the university, my classmates were doing the happy dance soon after the announcement.
We had an early morning flight from Pune to Jaipur on April first and all the fools had reached the airport well in advance(they could barely contain their excitement) .The rest of the time was spent, restlessly touring the airport. Shortly afterwards, our professor, Miss Aarti drew nearer, squinting at us, repeating the announcement.
Most of my friends were going to have their first flight experience and they definately did a decent job staying calm. Although, things went out of control when a few of them started busting a groove right before the aircraft! Just an hour after then, we had already landed in Jaipur-the Pink City.

Lovely Mornings! -Blue pre-dawn skies and the birds drawing buoyant hues across it. Truth be told, the awaiting coach made us feel more composed and glad.We dragged ourselves into the bus and dozzed off, the moment later. We woke up, only to discover a Heritage resort- our stay , for a couple of days.The check-in process took some time ,but it was worth the wait. The exquisite interiors adorned with antique furnishing and elaborate carvings had made our day,already.The swimming pool at the centre, was a cherry on the cake!

After the breakfast, we headed to Jaipur City Palace, which was around half an hour away from our stay. Each one of us had done a little research, prior to the trip. That being so, all of us were equally exhilarated. As we made our way up to the palace gradually , we could see a glimpse of Mughal and Rajput architecture divulging.The gate itself beared witness to the royal designs.

Walking through Udai pol(one of the entry gates), led us to an open area,that had a hall-‘Diwan-i-aam’, right in the heart of the place.This area of the complex gave a sense of history repeating. Magnificient chandeliers, rifles, swords and spears on the wall were no surprise to me. All I remember, of this maximum city, the last time I visited, was this area.To the left, were the water vessels that had water from the great Ganges, they say. As much of a twerp that I am, the particular Ganges mention made me realise of my misdeeds, nevermind. I surveyed Chandra Mahal,the one with coloured glasswork and azure coloured walls, reflecting, not only the royal designs,but also ,day trippers hovering around with cameras. Ignoring my appetite, I followed my team to Mubarak Mahal that had collection of Pashmina shawls , Banaras sarees, royal costumes and prints.
As I continued meandering across the halls ,gardens,and the Mahals,I kept bumping into amazed foreigners that remarked ,”An ideal place for art and history enthusiasts! No?”and I couldn’t agree more.

By noon, I was super hungry and so were all my pals. Although the summer heat had gotten us, we had commonly agreed to try the street food . Too many options had left us baffled but we managed to treat our uneasy stomachs.’Pyaj ki kachodi’, ‘Chole Kulche’,’Daal Puri’,’Daal Baati Churma’ and the options went on…I was full to bursting and craved for a bed more than I craved for food,sometime ago . I strongly suspected that a few friends would be equally whacked. I couldn’t hold myself back and so I blurt out the idea of returning to the bus. The word went along, until all of us decided to leave the survey and get back to the bus.The consequences were acute and yet, like I mentioned, at that instant, the bed was the catch. On our way back, we had a prolonged discussion on carved marbles, mirrors and murals and the gorgeous latticework that had left us all aghast. Moreover, we spotted the most recognised landmark, The Hawa Mahal, only to have a glimpse of the floral motifs and numerous windows from afar.

Carrying my extremely worn out body, I crawled up my bed and passed out (yeah, almost that). Weird enough, I dreamt of my girl friends crushing me to one side of the bed. It took me 4 hours to get back to my senses and realise it wasn’t just a dream. Just a couple of minutes after I woke up, I walked out all ready for the dinner.
The dinner was a feast for the eyes and appetite,both. The menu had over 5 dishes spread including deserts.I was glad I missed the supper. Post dinner, a session of silly chatter followed by dawdling in and around the resort , was a pleasant end, for the day. A few of my buddies missed out on the fun, but doubtless their regret for that would eventually be as great.