Rajasthan – The Timber Trawler

Jodhpur Journal: Three Discoveries At the Edge of the Thar

In October, during a brief illness, I got hooked on a book I had picked up in Udaipur in 2019 – Rajasthan: An Oral History, written by Rustom Bharucha, based on his conversations with the late Komal Kothari. Komal Kothari, who spent most of his prime documenting the folk music instruments, oral traditions and puppetry of Rajasthan, was instrumental in popularizing Managaniyar and Langa musicianship globally.

Komal Kothari’s insights into the relationship of the Rajasthani populace with their geography, natural elements, especially the arid stretches, their folk deities and folk traditions, as well as the intriguing interrelations amongst the various Rajasthani communities, left me in a trance. It was as if dormant connections to a distant past of mine were suddenly awakened. Besides, Komal Kothari lived in Jodhpur.

Now, since my 2019 outing to the Thar, Jodhpur had remained crouching in a corner of my mind. Mentions of Jodhpur anywhere, be it on social media, or television, or cinema, or by a friend, would stir long-repressed longings to go back to the city cradled in swathes of red-coloured escarpments. In two previous outings, everything that had to be seen in Jodhpur was already done and dusted with. Or, was it?

Nevertheless, in mid-November, my parents and I set off on our first-ever self-drive trip to Jodhpur via Salasar and Nagaur. What would follow was a spree of educational experiences: two involving things I had discovered about Jodhpur since our last outing, spurred somewhat by my reading during the intervening pandemic. And, a third we would just stumble into, and be pleasantly surprised by, despite my initial reluctance to indulge it.

A Living Museum

In an abandoned rock mine, on the low hill ranges encircling the western outskirts of Jodhpur, now covered with a blanket of grass and shrub, punctuated with the inimitable trio of ker, sangri and kumat trees, is located a unique interpretation of a museum. Arna Jharna Desert Musuem, literally meaning ‘forest and spring’, was the brainchild of Komal Kothari, who envisaged it as a showcase for the daily life of the regular desert folk.

The museum began with a single concept of displaying an object that is inseparable from daily life across all communities – the broom. On display in a cluster of huts are many more elements of daily life – pottery, utensils, storage spaces, cooking apparatus. Also on display are aspects of folk culture and indigenous knowledge systems. For instance, a humongous collection of musical instruments used across Rajasthan curated by Komal Kothari himself through his lifetime.

The most intriguing exhibit is a contraption serving as a portable shrine, called the kavad. A cupboard-like structure with multiple folds that can be progressively unfurled to reveal layers of shelves, it houses deities and pictorial depictions of religious stories and epics. The shrine moves from one place to another, accompanied by the storyteller, invariably from the bhat community, where he would narrate stories of the gods, folk-gods or epics to the patrons. Oftentimes, in the past, the patron would have a hereditary relationship with the bhat.

Walk towards the rear of the cluster of huts through the tall grass, and you reach the edge of a ravine with a stream that turns into a waterfall when it rains. The set-up of the huts in a cluster in a vastly open space reflects the general pattern of how habitation exists in and around the desert. The museum is highly recommended if one is keen for a glimpse into daily life in the desert, and into how daily life practices and processes have evolved within the ecological constraints of the desert.

A snapshot of the cluster of huts in the Arna Jharna Musuem

A Nature Park

During the pandemic, I came across an interesting essay titled ‘Dying to Live’ in an anthology called Journeys through Rajasthan. Penned by the filmmaker-turned-naturalist, Pradip Krishen, it chronicles how a rocky desert landscape overrun by an invasive species mesquite (Prosopis Juliflora), colloquially called ‘bawlia’, was painstakingly transformed into a desert rock park through rewilding with desert-native plant species.

In fact, I had often wondered what lay behind the rocky outcrop holding up the Mehrangarh fort, and it turned out, it was this very park, the Rao Jodha Desert Rock Park. On our 2019 Jodhpur trip, we had even driven past the park on our way to Jaisalmer, but I had little idea back then that it was anything remarkable. Not until I learnt that the area in and around Mehrangarh fort was the site of not one, but two Geological Monuments of India – Jodhpur Group–Malani Igneous Suite Contact and Welded Tuff.

The Malani Igneous Suite consists of a variety of rock formations which resulted from a volcanic event occurring 750 million years ago. However, one variety of orange-pink coloured flat-faced columnar rock formations called rhyolite, is remarkable in that the Mehrangarh fort sits atop one such formation. And so does the park, sprawling across eroded hills and valleys of rhyolite, sprinkled with bits of welded tuff, another rock formed during the Malani event.

The park welcomes you with an assortment of rock sample exhibits, sourced from the western part of the subcontinent stretching from the Indus basin through the Thar desert to the Kachchh, with most from rock systems formed tens of millions years ago to more than a billion years ago. The most fascinating exhibit is a 635 million year old sample from the ‘Sonia Sandstone Formation’ near Jodhpur, containing ‘trace fossils’, which are traces of movements and burrows in the mud left behind by some of the earliest organisms which had no hard parts that could fossilize.

Just entering the arched stone gate where the ticket counter is located, one comes across an array of desert microhabitats that acts as a nursery for desert native plants. From that point on, a flight of stairs leads down to a 500 year old rainwater canal that channels water to the Ranisar and Padamsar lakes, some of Jodhpur’s oldest water reservoirs, located at the opposite end of the park. The canal, called the Hathi Nahar (elephant canal), which serves as one of the four trails earmarked in the park, cuts through a welded tuff formation, and soon meets a path that leads to the aforementioned lakes.

Another trail runs along the ancient city wall that also serves as a boundary wall for the park, and yet another trail meanders through the rewilded forest comprising more than 250 plant species. From most points of the park, one is treated to exhilarating views of the profile of the fort from various angles. My favorite location was from the edge of the Padamsar lake. Or was it from just below the foothills of the rhyolite hill on which the fort is located? I am confused.

Entrance of the Rao Jodha Desert Rock Park

An Unusual Safari

All this while, I had been debating with myself and my parents whether we should venture into a heritage or village style accommodation for the remaining night. Searching online, I had zeroed in on one candidate, Bishnoi Village Camp and Resort, located 30 km to the south of Jodhpur, somewhere in between Mogra Kalan and Kankani. Circumspect for the better part of the two preceding days, yet encouraged by many stellar recommendations of foreign tourists, we headed off to the resort.

And boy, were we bowled over by the host, who showered special attention on us, given that we were the only guests for that particular night. Following a late evening safari through the nearby villages, where we visited the workshops of craftsmen showcasing pottery, bedsheets and durries, we were treated to a most satiating and authentic Rajasthani meal, which included, among many things, bajra (millet) roti, kadhi, and the delectable Ker Sangri fortified with kumat.

The next morning was a revelation of sorts, when we set out for a 7AM early winter safari to see the elusive blackbuck and the migratory demoiselle crane, colloquially called kurja. Imagine the surprise when we learned that we had been staying in the same area where the infamous 1998 blackbuck hunting which had offended the Bishnois, had occurred .

The Bishnoi community, in deference to rules set down by their founding guru Jambheswar, protects wildlife and vegetation, sometimes, with their lives. Testament to this is the 1730 AD incident from nearby Khejarli village, where a Bishnoi woman, Amrita Devi along with her three daughters, gave up their lives protecting khejri trees from the felling attempts of the king’s soldiers, triggering a wave of such sacrifices in 82 other Bishnoi villages where tree-felling had commenced. With the final tally reportedly reaching 383, the king, eventually, had to ask for forgiveness and abort the tree-felling activity.

The blackbuck is even more sacred to the Bishnoi community, as Guru Jambheswar is purported to be reborn as a blackbuck. No wonder then that our safari included a stop at a memorial built by the Bishnois for the slain blackbuck. Then crossing the saline Luni river, the largest river of the Thar, and the only one that originates at Pushkar and ends in the Rann of Kachchh, we ventured into blackbuck territory. And lo and behold, in open spaces hidden behind curtains of bushes, we sighted a group of nearly 50.

However, as I learned, sighting blackbucks is not the challenge – it is just that the male blackbuck, which the layman has an image of in the form of a black upper body and white underbody, with long antlers, is rarer than the female blackbucks which have a brown upper body. Male blackbucks engage in lekking, whereby a single male takes control of a territory comprising multiple females and juveniles, driving away other males through aggressive means. It was interesting, however, to see two to three groups of blackbucks, led by their respective leading male blackbuck, mingling, while two male blackbucks at separate locations trudged through the forest, alone, in the distance.

With rapid urbanization, the wilderness available to species such as the blackbuck has rapidly shrunk. The forested area where we spotted the blackbucks, have, in fact, already been earmarked for future industrial development. It will not be long before the blackbuck population will be further impacted. Sadly, the convictions of the Bishnoi community can only do so much against this new advancing frontier.

A glimpse of the Bishnoi Village and Camp Resort

Details for Visitors/Guests

Arna Jharna Museum

Entry fee: Rs. 100 per person
Visiting hours: 8:00 AM – 6:00 PM

The museum also conducts cultural folk programmes on occassion.

Drive from Jodhpur to the museum is remarkable.

Rao Jodha Desert Park

Entry fee: Rs. 100 per person
Visiting hours:
March to September: 6:30 am to 7 pm
October to February: 7:30 am to 6 pm

There are four trails, out of which three are in the area below the fort, i.e. the area which has been vigorously rewilded, and a fourth is around the Devkund lake, which lies adjacent to the Jaswant Thada, a short walk/drive away.

If time was a constraint, I would do the Yellow trail, to get a more involving flavour of the rewilding done in the park.

In warmer months, the trails are best done in the morning or evening.

Unsurprisingly, the park is at its beautiful best during the monsoons.

Keep an eye on their Instagram page to keep track of guided tours and other organized events.

Bishnoi Village and Camp Resort

Blackbuck and Village safari: Rs. 3000 for a group of 4-5 persons

Meandering in the Monsoons: Bijolia, Banswara, Arthuna and Udaipur

Continuing the tradition of the annual self-drive family trip, this year we decided to explore the lesser-known side of Rajasthan. Of course, this trip came about after having exhausted the roster of all the well-known Rajasthani cities, except Barmer, but it was really hastened by the incidence of the monsoons. It was now time to experience something different than the arid landscapes, desert expanses, and mountainous folds of the Aravallis. What better region than the south-western part of Rajasthan to soak in the splendour of the rain-sprinkled countryside?

The place in focus on this trip was Banswara, touted as the ‘city of 100 islands’—a place many travel bloggers exhorted to visit, specifically in the monsoons. However, Banswara, being a good 800 km from Gurgaon, necessitated stops, and the stops were better worth it. Those stops turned out to be Chittorgarh on the outward leg and Udaipur on the return, thus helping me fulfil my mother’s long-cherished wish of seeing Nathdwara and Ranakpur, and my own wish of showing my brother Kumbhalgarh. In fact, we did the latter three stops on the same day, surprising even ourselves!

As usual, we did not book accommodations beforehand, and simply let serendipity be our guide. That’s how I found myself at Chittorgarh Fort, at the same place, the same day I was 10 years ago. That’s how we beheld the beauty of a temple complex getting showered in a cloudburst. That’s how we chanced upon a temple complex with a waterfall, straight from the imagery of an Indiana Jones movie. That’s how we found ourselves meandering upon the low rolling hills leading to and adorning the course of the mighty river Mahi, with intermittent spells of monsoon rains for company.

Highlights of the road-trip

Mandakini Temple, Bijolia

This temple complex comprises three Shiva temples – the oldest being from the 11th century called Mahakal – and a water tank, and lay just beside our route to Chittorgarh. Just as we stepped out of the car, there was a cloudburst, forcing us to run inside the temple complex and take shelter under the roof of one the temples.

Main temple inside Mandakini temple complex, Bijolia

Menal and Mahanal temples, Menal

This was just an unexpected, happy accident that happened because my brother was simply scanning Google Maps on our way to Chittorgarh. The 11th century Shiva temple complex lies just beside the highway, nestled in a forest, straddling a stream with a waterfall dropping into a gorge. Across the steep waterfall is one of the temples, with an adjoining monastery in ruins, which one can access by simply crossing the stream before it drops into the gorge. Now, that’s truly a set-up venturing into Indiana Jones territory.

Menal waterfall with temple across the gorge

Chittorgarh

What can be said in a line or two about Chittor fort that would capture what it is, what it stands for, what legacy it bears, what history it has seen!

But what struck me most upon first visiting the place, and has remained with me since, is how it is a self-contained city spread upon a vast flat-topped hill, like on a plateau. The palaces and structures are far-flung, interspersed with water tanks and jungle. This is a place that is removed from the rest of the world that lies beneath, one that transports you to another era as a time machine.

Samadhiswara temple in Chittorgarh fort premises

Banswara

Banswara region lies in the Mahi catchment area in south-west Rajasthan, and is home to the massive Mahi Dam. The region is typified by low rolling hills undulating for miles, whose tops turn into meadows in the monsoons, evoking scenes from a Kashmiri landscape. This topographical feature has also led to formation of islands in the reservoir created by the Mahi Dam.

The road, winding across the ridges, leading to a village called Chacha Kota, affords a roller-coaster like ride with breathtaking views of the low rolling hills stretching to the horizon, as well as the islands in the reservoir. With overcast skies, you might even feel you’re gliding through the clouds.

Another point of significance is the long Maharana Pratap Setu (Bridge) over the Mahi River on the road to Ratlam, where the Tropic of Cancer also passes through.

Maharana Pratap Setu (Bridge) over Mahi River

Arthuna

Arthuna, also called Utthunaka, the capital of the Paramaras of Vagad in the 11th-12 century AD, was an important commercial centre at the time. Home to a complex containing multiple temples, from the same period, dedicated to Shiva, and a stepped tank. What is interesting is that outside this complex, there are ruins of even larger temples, and several mounds probably concealing even more structures.

Nathdwara

Home to the temple of Shrinathji, an infant form of Krishna.

Ranakpur

A 15th century Jain temple built entirely in marble sits majestically in the jungle at the Aravalli foothills. I would put this temple alongside the Taj Mahal as a mediaeval wonder of India.

Kumbhalgarh

Another historic fort, the birthplace of the legendary Maharana Pratap, and hailed as the fort with the longest fortification wall in India (2nd in the world) at 36 km. From the top of the main palace, aptly named Badal Mahal (or Palace of the Clouds), it is said, one can see the Marwar on one side, and Mewar on the other.

Rakt Talai (Pool of Blood)

As one crosses Haldighati pass, the region around which served as the battleground between the armies of Maharana Pratap and Akbar, and reaches Khamnore, there comes a depressed patch of land where a pond is said to have existed. The pond is said to have turned red with rainwater that trickled down into it, after mixing with the blood of those fallen in the battle of Haldighati on 18 June 1576.

Trip Summary

Day 1:
Gurugram to Chittorgarh via Bijolia and Menal

Day 2:
Chittaurgarh fort, and then on to Banswara

Day 3:
Banswara and thereabouts including Mahi River Bridge, Chacha Kota and Mahi Dam.
On to Udaipur via Arthuna and Dungarpur

Day 4:
Udaipur to Nathdwara, then on to Ranakpur and Kumbhalgarh, and back to Udaipur

Day 5:
Udaipur to Gurugram via Haldighati and Bhilwara

Trip maps

Trip Map Part 1: Day 1 & 2 (Gurugram to Banswara)

Trip Map Part 2: Day 3 (Gurugram to Banswara)

Trip Map Part 3: Day 4 & 5 (Udaipur to Gurugram)

Trip statistics

Uncovering Khetri : A Hidden Gem in the Shekhawati

In my search for places that could be visited on a single day trip from Gurugram, Khetri seemed to pop up on a few occasions. I did try to plan a Khetri trip a few times over the last three years, even attempting to rope in my colleagues once, but it was not to be, especially since it would need a detour from all the major roads. I also abolished thoughts of doing a solo drive to Khetri because I was uncertain about the condition of roads and the remoteness I would encounter.

That was until the time my parents were here in Gurugram, and we really had to find something for a day trip before they returned to Odisha. While mother is always excited for any arbitrary new place, father only agreed once I brought to the fore the connection of Khetri with Swami Vivekananda. So, off we started on a mid-December morning around 10 AM in the quest to uncover Khetri.

We first drove towards and bypassed Rewari, then took NH 11 – that runs westwards to Jaisalmer through Jhunjunu – till Singhana, and then turned to the left, passing first by a low stretch of the Aravalli, and then approaching a pass in a cluster of the low Aravalli hills. Soon we were flanked by the Aravallis on both the sides, as we drove up the road winding through the pass, and finally reached a wide patch of undulating land surrounded by the Aravallis, with low houses and buildings sprawling across the dry valley, and swarming with people betraying a certain laid-backness in their demeanour.

On the way to Khetri, taking a turn from Singhana

It already being 1.30 PM, we asked around for a good place to have lunch, and took a hairpin upturned bend from the main road, reaching a haveli that once belonged to the royal dynasty. Now turned into Hotel Haridiya Heritage, the haveli is located higher than most of the town, affording a view of the erstwhile king’s palace which lies almost adjacent to it, and a view of the Aravallis running on the other side of the town. Photographs and souvenirs from the past adorn the walls of the main hall transporting one to a more circumspect time, convincing us that the haveli would be a good retreat for someone looking to spend time in Khetri.

Main hall of the Haridiya Heritage Hotel

Our next stop following lunch was the royal palace which has since been given over to the Ramakrishna Mission who now run the mission in part of the palace. The remaining part has been turned into the Ajit-Vivek museum dedicated to displaying the life and teachings of Swami Vivekananda. But why is this quaint little town nestled in the Aravallis being spoken of in the same breath as a monk from Bengal, a land in the east of India? Well, this seems like a good point to take a detour and learn about the connection between Khetri and Swami Vivekananda.

Khetri and Swami Vivekananda

After starting his life as a wandering monk in 1888, Swami Vivekanand first set foot in Khetri in June 1891, meeting Ajit Singh, the ruler of the Shekhawat estate (thikana) of Khetri. Following a discussion on a wide range of subjects, Ajit Singh invited Vivekananda for dinner. Vivekananda ended up staying in Khetri from 4 June 1891 to 27 October 1891, during which period Ajit Singh taught Vivekananda to wear a turban in the Rajasthani style to protect him from the hot wind blowing in the area. With variations added of his own, Vivekananda made the turban a staple of his life, as evident from most of the well-known pictures of the monk. A teacher-disciple relationship and a life-long friendship had begun.

Vivekananda visited and stayed in Khetri a second time from 21 April 1893 to 10 May 1893. Learning of his wish to participate in the Parliament of World’s Religions as a speaker, Ajit Singh readily provided him with financial aid, and the tickets for the voyage, even escorting him till Jaipur, from whereon Ajit Singh’s Munshi escorted Vivekananda till Bombay. Purportedly upon Ajit Singh’s request, the monk also assumed the monastic name Vivekananda replacing his then-assumed name Vividishananda. The two remained in correspondence during Vivekananda’s stay in the west, with Ajit Singh providing him financial support whenever required.

Vivekananda visited Khetri a third and final time in 1897, upon Ajit Singh’s invitation, where he gave a lecture attended by Ajit Singh and many Eurpoean guests. During this visit, Vivekananda openly expressed his gratitude to Ajit Singh for his support. In 1898, Vivekananda requested that a monthly stipend given by Ajit Singh to his mother, be made permanent even after Vivekananda’s death. Ajit Singh honoured this arrangement, without publicising this, till his death in 1901 due to a collapse of a tower he was standing on, at the age of 39. Incidentally, Swami Vivekananda also died at the age of 39, the following year.

In 1958, Ajit Singh’s grandson, Bahadur Sardar Singh donated the then abandoned and dilapidated Palace of Khetri to the Ramakrishna Mission, who cleared and restored one part of the palace to establish a mission. Later, another part of the building, Fateh Vilas, was turned into a museum showing Vivekanda’s life and teachings, while also honouring Ajit Singh. The room overlooking the town and the Aravallis, where Vivekananda lived during his stays in Khetri has now been turned into a prayer room. Some letters of correspondence between Vivekananda and Ajit Singh are also on display.

Front courtyard and entrance of the Ajit-Vivek Museum

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Offering our prayers in the prayer room, we then proceeded to the 270 year-old Bhopalgarh fort that beckoned us from the hilltop in the distance. Taking a steep two-kilometre winding road we were at the fort’s gate around 3.30 PM, with the Khetri town visible down below. Entering the fort premises, we immediately got a bearing of the area – the fort wall encloses an area shaped like a trapezoid, with most of the inner part depressed, resembling a wide crater.

Half a kilometre to the right of the entrance, bang on the fort wall is a palace sporting multiple windows and balconies, called the Sheesh Mahal, which is currently closed for renovation. Peeking in from the corridor at the main gateway, one could see a large courtyard and multiple storied halls and rooms surrounding the hall. Walking beyond the palace on the fort wall, one gets a clearer view of the Khetri town and the surroundings, including some now-defunct copper mines, nestled in the Aravallis.

Sheesh Mahal which lies adjunct to the fort wall on the right side of fort entrance

From the side of the entrance and the walls stretching on both sides of the entrance, one can clearly see the Moti Mahal, an elongated palace, located at the far opposite side of the fort. In between, in the depressed portion, lay swathes of low jungle with vestiges of more stone structures. I traversed through the jungle by foot, and found the Moti Mahal in a desolate condition with the front of the palace overgrown with thorny bush and jungle, making it look like a prohibited place. However, adjoining the Moti Mahal, is located the Gopinath temple, dedicated to Krishna, with an attached dharamsala, teeming with some people, which made the adjunct palace look less hostile.

The Moti Mahal beckons from beyond the depressed portion of the fort enclosure

All this while, with my mind constantly racing about whether or not to enter the Moti Mahal, I kept lingering on the outside of the palace. It already being 4.30PM, with the prospect of darkness descending soon, I decided to take the plunge. With my heart in my mouth, wading through the thorny bush and jungle, I somehow managed to gain access into the palace, and was at first greeted by what looked like the king’s throne where he gave audience to the court. Walking through labyrinthine corridors and staircases, I managed to get access to the roof of the palace, from where I was treated to breathtaking views of the Shekhawat countryside chequered with low hills, and arid plains.

Around 5 PM, I descended from the roof of the Moti Mahal, intending to head back, and promptly lost my way through the labyrinthine corridors! After fumbling about in the low light, forced to use my mobile phone as a torch, for about 5 minutes, I was finally relieved to see that the exit had been present right before my very eyes – in my nervousness, I had simply not seen it! Exiting, I walked as fast as I could through the jungle to reach the fort’s entrance where my parents were waiting.

Wider view of the fort enclosure from Moti Mahal – the Sheesh Mahal and ruined structures strewn around are seen

As we drove back through Khetri town, we looked with fondness at the agglomeration of houses straddling the valley in the Aravallis. Here was a town that retained the charm and compactness of a British-era princely state, and yet was no stranger to modern flourishes. It was easy to see why the monk Vivekananda would have appreciated the coziness of this town ensconced in the Aravallis, spending here 3 months at a stretch. Surely we could come back to spend 3 weeks at the least, we concurred amongst ourselves.

Barely Bright and Bovine Encounters at Bayana Fort

Somehow, circumstances lead me into situations where I land up in remote places on the verge of sundown. This time, it was at the base of a high cliff atop which sat the Bayana fort, with fortification walls stretching for miles and miles. I learned about Bayana Fort only a few months ago from a book called ‘Forts of Rajasthan’, and had been itching to set foot on it since. It was quarter to five on this mid-November evening when I finally arrived at my destination, having driven for an eternity, having been slowed down by narrow winding roads, interrupted by a political rally, and rocked by an undulating last-mile dirt road.

As I stood at the bottom of the long flight of stony steps, with the last group of people having already descended, I mulled over whether it would be a prudent idea to climb uphill at this hour. Figuring I did have a small window of sunlight, I virtually ran up the tall, sloping steps, stopping mostly to catch my breath at each hairpin bend and sometimes to steer clear of the langurs. In 10 minutes, I was within the fort precincts, passing through multiple arched gates after almost a kilometre-long climb. The panoramic view of the countryside was breathtaking from that height.

Taking the steep and long climb into the fort head-on

Views of the countryside from the fort steps (left) and top of fort (right)

On the flat hilltop, flanked by jungle, stood several buildings in various stages of decay and a half-finished minar dedicated to Ibrahim Lodi. To say that I was scared out of my wits, owing to the lack of human presence, would be an understatement. Add to that the fear of wild animals and reptiles that could be lurking just around the corner. Could there also be a supernatural presence? As I waded through the jungle, I saw a figure emanating from behind a bush. I was almost happy, hoping for it to be human, but was startled to come face-to-face with a cow! I jumped aside, but the cow following the first one simply darted off, as if it had seen a ghost! Perhaps, nay, definitely, it was time to turn back now.

With darkness fast approaching, as I was descending down the stairs, I came face-to-face again with a long line of cows and buffaloes, making their way up, who simply refused to budge and let me pass. The stand-off continued for 10 minutes with me perched atop a ledge…till a calf, of all the bovines out there, decided to take the bull by its horns (pun intended) and took a few steps forward; the adults followed. I heaved a sigh of relief as the last one passed me by. With the sun already down, I hiked back, admiring the loftiness of the fort walls and the lushness of the landscape awash in the waning twilight while peacocks went about their evening walks.

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Bayana is associated in the lore of Krishna with Banasur, and the precursor to the Bayana fort itself can be traced to 4th century AD at least, from some inscriptions found on the hill. However, the fortification was reinforced and the fort repaired by king Vijayapal in the 12th century AD who named it Vijaymandir. It subsequently fell to the Sultanate, then passed through the hands of the Lodis, and then the Mughals. The battle between Babur and Rana Sanga at nearby Khanwa proved to be a landmark event in the Mughal conquest of Northern India.

How to reach
While Bayana town itself is reachable from Delhi by public transport or by a 5 hour drive from Delhi, the fort, 8km away from the town, needs private transport to reach. Alternatively, one can also reach Bayana town and the fort from Agra by a 2.5 hour drive.

Aravalli Archives: Rajsamand, Rayta and Ranakpur

This August, we made a quick getaway to Udaipur, with the intention of exploring the Aravalli hill ranges in and around Udaipur. It was in the vicinity of Udaipur, while returning from Mount Abu, that I had fallen in love with the Aravallis. Though on my last trip to Udaipur – the only one since the Mount Abu trip – we had ventured into the Aravallis on our excursion to Kumbhalgarh, the fact that we had limited time and little influence over the cab driver quashed any hope of indulging my love for the Aravallis and exploring the hill ranges in and around Udaipur.

Nevertheless, now that we drove our own car, we would be constrained only by time, not by ability or ambition. So, starting off around 6.30 AM from Gurugram, taking the Ajmer Expressway, we had bypassed Jaipur by 11 AM, stopping at 12.30PM for a break just on the outskirts of Kishangarh. Resuming the journey, we had to make a choice between going by the Ajmer-Deogarh-Rajsamand route using NH 58 or through Bhilwara using NH 48, the latter being the one with greater average speed. However, my main interest being in driving by the Aravallis, we chose the one through NH 58 after ascertaining from locals about the condition of the road. And were we amply rewarded for the same!

Our brush with the Aravallis started from near Ajmer, and by the time we reached Beawar, where we stopped for lunch, we were already being accompanied by continuous ranges of the Aravallis. As seen from the satellite view of Google Maps, a long chain of the Aravallis begins from below Beawar and stretches in the south-westerly direction all the way to just above Udaipur, where again there is a pass in the hill ranges nestling the historic town of Gogunda. Another chain of Aravallis starts after this pass and stretches some distance into Gujarat, ending with the Polo forest.

So, as indicated by Google Maps, we were soon running alongside the foothills of the Aravallis after crossing Beawar. We slid up and down the undulating road and swerved left and right on the roading curving around the protrusions and along the cavities on the hillside. Patches of green clothed the yellowish-brown hillsides, while patches of green pasture interspersed with small and large ponds and punctuated by the occasional hamlet dotted the slope on the other side of the road. The road cut through the hillside at many places, but seldom bent into hairpin shapes. Crevices snuggling in the hillsides held dainty pools formed of rainwater, bearing blooming lilies and lotuses floating on a carpet of leaves.

The top oblong red oval encircles the top stretch of Aravallis. The bottom irregular oval marks the bottom stretch of Aravllis that runs around Udaipur and end in Gujarat. Beawar and Rajsamand are also marked.

Around 5.30 PM, we reached Rajsamand, a city lying 67 km before Udaipur on the foothills of the Aravallis, home to an expansive lake carved out in the hillside and fed by water dammed on the Gomti river. The construction of the Rajsamand lake was started by Maharana Raj Singh in 1662 AD, ending in 1676AD, and is the oldest known famine relief work in Rajasthan. The lake also served as a sea-plane base for Imperial Airways for its route from London to Sydney, and as an auxiliary base for the IAF during the Second World War. A marble pavillion-cum-garden called Nau Chakki adorns a section of the lakeside. Adjacent to it, lies a building called Maharana Raj Singh Panorama depicting a brief history of Rajsamand and glimpses from Raj Singh’s life while also displaying a part of a metallic chain used for anchoring the sea-planes in the lake.

A pond by the roadside on the way to Udaipur

As we approached Udaipur, with the Aravallis reaching majestic heights while wearing cloaks of green with stripes of yellow, the scenery became even more picturesque. Before long we had entered a tunnel near Chirwa, and were promptly stuck in hour-long traffic, finally reaching Udaipur at 8 PM. Following a failed attempt at dining at all of the lakeside restaurants on the Ambrai Ghat, we had dinner at a restaurant in the city, and retired for the night.

The next morning, we drove our way to the outskirts on the south-west direction of Udaipur, crossed a stream and then climbed up a narrow road winding around the hillside to reach a large flat expanse of meadows on the top of a high hill called Rayta. Amidst gusts of a cool breeze and chirps of birds, we were treated to breathtaking views of swathes of green reminiscent of images from Kashmir Valley, with the landscape rendered even punchier due to the monsoons. Leaving Rayta at around 12.30 PM, the descent from the hill was equally eventful as the scary ride up, thanks to the narrowness of the road forcing us to make a couple of crossing of vehicles coming from the opposite side with supreme caution.

Crossing a stream on the way to Rayta hill

Driving on, first by-passing Udaipur and then turning left towards and crossing Gogunda, we took a state highway running into the interiors of the Aravallis, reaching Sayra, where we reached a fork in the road – with the right leading to Kumbhalgarh, and the left leading to Ranakpur. From Sayra, we climbed higher up the Aravallis, subsequently crossing the crest of the hill range, and came upon a descent passing through jungle, given company by and criss-crossed by a couple of rivulets. Then negotiating a 15-minute descent comprising numerous steep curves and hairpin bends, we reached the base of the hill range, where lay a place had been sitting in my wish list since 2013 – Ranakpur.

Ranakpur, located on the side of the Maghai River, is home to the 15th century Chaturmukha Dharana Vihara, or simply called Ranakpur Jain temple, built entirely in marble. Construction of the temple dedicated to Adinatha, the first tirthankara, was commenced in 1446 AD by Dharna Shah, from the Porwal community under the patronage of Rana Kumbha, and ended in 1496 AD, fifty years later. Three other temples dedicated each to Parsvanatha, Neminatha and Mahavira stand in the temple complex, while a 13th century Sun temple sits outside the complex right at a cusp of the river. Sitting majestically in the jungle at the Aravalli foothills, this temple can easily be put alongside the Taj Mahal as a mediaeval wonder of India.

At 4.30 PM, we left Ranakpur to ride back up the series of steep hairpin bends to reach our abode for the night located on top of the hill range – a resort called Aranyawas. The resort comprising cottages built in multiple tiers is located on the side of one of the rivulets that I mentioned above, which in turn is a tributary of the aforementioned Maghai River. A deck at the back-edge of the the resort affords views of the hills across the rivulet and the surrounding forests, along with that of an anicut built on the rivulet. Later, taking a curving bridge we reached the large swimming pool that stood at a higher level as compared to the rest of the resort, providing a great 360-degrees view of the place.

In the morning, we took a tour of the kitchen garden nurtured amidst the jungle inside the premises of the resort. At 10.30 AM, leaving the resort, we again passed through Ranakpur taking highway running through Pali, on the side of the chain of Aravallis opposite the one we had taken on outward journey on the first day. By 2 PM, we were in Beawar again, choosing to have lunch at the same place as on our outward journey. At 4 PM, we reached Kishangarh, where we choose to take a little detour to see the Marble Slurry Dumpyard, which lends itself to a stunning landscape resembling that of a snow yard, with greenish pools of water scattered all over it.

View of the Marble Dumping Yard, Kishangarh

Moving on from Kishangarh, adventure still awaited us, since midway to Gurgaon after crossing Jaipur, we were met with traffic jams brought about my multiple stretches of road construction. At around 10 PM, with a final one hour long jam staring at us right before Bawal, an alternative route popped up on Google Maps diverting from right where we stood. Based on eye contact and a couple of lines of verbal communication with another person driving his family in his car, we took the diversion following one another, venturing into the desolate countryside. Thankfully, after a 15-minute drive through the potholed, sometimes, muddy interior roads, we were back again on the highway, having bypassed the traffic jam! By 11 PM, we were home.

Gagron, Ramgarh and Kalinjar: An Inquiry into the Antiquities of Upper Vindhya Range

The little one touched down in late February on his annual visit to the homeland, and as has been the family’s wont, we set out on another self-driven road trip. This time I wanted to introduce my little brother to the pink-splashed, fort-dotted landscape of Jaipur. But that was not all of the plan – the plan also included exploring the antiquities lying in the upper Vindhya hill ranges.

One of those long-distance trips that uncharacteristically start at noon, it was the perfect opportunity to check out the Delhi-Mumbai Expressway (DME) which had just opened for the public. And soon we would be in Jaipur and climbing the hairpin bends up the Aravallis to reach Nahargarh fort in pitch darkness.

Following a quick family sight-seeing session in Jaipur, we crossed the Chambal river & Kota city onto the tiger-rich Mukundra Hills in pursuit of a hill-cum-water fort which had eluded me in my last two attempts – once due to floods and the other time, due to paucity of time. We then proceeded to a geological marvel in the form of a Meteorite Impact Crater (MIC) in the middle of nowhere, which also is home to a mysterious ancient Shiva temple.

Then we skirted around the Kuno National Park to push into Bundelkhand, touching some places that formed the backdrop at crucial junctures in the history of Bundelkhand, as well as of British India. We then advanced to that land of exotic temples – Khajuraho, which would then lead us to an intriguing fort straight out of the scenes of an Indiana Jones movie.

Highlights of the trip

Gagron Fort

A 12th century hill fort that also doubles up as a water fort, by virtue of lying on the confluence of 2 rivers, with one river winding around the hill supporting the fort, giving protection by water on 3 sides. The fort itself is akin to a ship with the watchtower called Ram Burj situated at the fort’s edge where standing feels as if standing on a ship’s bow. The fort ramparts afford views of the sparsely vegetated rocky surface of the hill with the aquamarine Kali Sindh flowing along the hill base on one side and of the Ahu river on the other side. This fort rounds up for me, the six hill forts of Rajasthan that constitute a UNESCO World Heritage Site series.

Ramgarh Crater

A Meteorite Impact Crater (MIC) formed more than 600 million years ago. The site is characterized by a rim of hills in the shape of a circle with only a narrow pass providing access to the inner area. At the centre of the crater are the Bhand Devra Temple, a 10th century Shiva temple, and a pond abounding in water lilies and lotus. Once formally recognized by the Earth Impact Database, this would be the second largest MIC in India.

A perennial pond ensconced in the crater

Orchha

A sleepy yet historically ornate riverside town of Orchha, hidden away from the hustle & bustle of the main roads. The palace complex housing two large palaces, the Chaturbhuj temple and the chhatris (memorials) on the Betwa river evoke a sense of nostalgia for a time gone by. It was established by Bundelas in the 16th century AD and named so because it was apparently “hidden” inside forests.

Garh Kundar

An enigmatic palace perched atop a rocky outcrop in the Bundelkhand region that is accessed after driving for a long time in the wilderness. It served as the residence of the Bundelas before Orchha was founded. There also exists a legend of betrayal and beguiling intrigue between two warring clans, leading to the murder of a groom’s procession in the underground caverns of the fort.

Raneh Falls

A series of waterfalls in the canyon formed by the Ken river. One can see granite in varying shades of colours ranging from pink, red to grey.

Khajuraho

Perhaps, one of the best known places of India, home to picture-perfect temples with exquisite workmanship in the carvings and sculptures dotting the structures.

Kalinjar Fort

A place so ancient that it finds mention in mythological texts, with the fort being so important that it became the scene of many a battle and many an invasion, leading to its control passing through many dynasties from the Guptas, the Chedis during the times of Buddha to Mauryas to Chandelas to Mughals and finally to British hands.

The fort sits on a flat-top hill, sprawling across a vast area replete with forest, ponds, and palaces. However, the most remarkable of the monuments is a temple formed out of a cave in the hillside, with the entrance embellished with a ruined pillared stone structure. The stone steps leading down to the temple are adorned with figures and caves carved into the rocky hillside that immediately transport one into the realm of perilous treasure hunts portrayed in an Indiana Jones adventure.

The Neelkanth temple sits on the hillside, accessed by climbing down a flight of stairs

Road Trip at a glance

A Decade of Exploring Rajasthan: Jaipur 2012 AD to Jaipur 2022 AD

In April 2012, my first ever trip to Rajasthan was solo – by public transport, with the destination being Jaipur. In August 2022, I rounded off a decade of exploring Rajasthan by reprising the solo trip to Jaipur – only this time it was by driving on my own. A 700km self-driven solo adventure!

As always, it is rarely about the destination – and so off I went wandering through roads I had not trodden before, exploring a bit of the Aravallis in the Shekhawati region, while the sun and rain played hide and seek, and folds of hills lay in the distance in front and around me, their peaks crowned with fluffs of cloud.

I plead guilty to the charge of scooting off to Rajasthan every chance I get, even at the risk of inviting ridicule. ‘Why don’t you try out some other place this time – why not Himachal, Uttarakhand, UP?’, I have been asked. I say, some people love the mountains, some the beaches – as for me, I yearn most for the desert, the Aravallis, the forts…

Growing up in Odisha, I had had a fascination with Rajasthan long since I could remember. In Grade 4 – the black-&-white picture of the Hawa Mahal in a textbook, and the mention of the Thar around Bikaner and Jaisalmer, images of the Vijay Stambh at Chittorgarh and the Dilwara temples at Mount Abu were imprinted in my head. A General Knowledge book addressed Jaipur as the Pink City, and Jodhpur as the Blue City. I always wondered looking at those black-and-white pictures how the cities might look like in real life in their famed hues.

Some years later as we were embarking on a train journey, Dad let me pick up a thin paperback from the book stall on the railway station- it was called ‘Folk Tales of Rajasthan’. While on that train, in my mind, Rajasthan turned into a place of magic, of kings, bards & princesses, of Pabuji, star-crossed lovers & clever thieves, of camels & shifting sands…I was enamoured.

Rajasthan was always just too far away though, and little did I know I would later land up at the gateway to it – Delhi. Little did I know as time progressed, I would reside at a place, on the outskirts of Gurgaon, where I could simply lug a backpack on my back and in half an hour, be inside Rajasthan. Little did I know I would once also drive solo to Rajasthan…

***

On this trip, instead of driving directly to Jaipur from Gurgaon, I took a detour midway, towards the north and drove through some of the most exotic sounding places – Kotputli, Neem ka Thana, Udaipurwati.

Udaipurwati

A quaint little town nestled within a gap in the Aravallis, is home to an excellent resort called The Tree of Life Inderpura.

Lohargal

Near Udaipurwati, within a crevice in the hills is a holy spot with a natural spring feeding a bathing tank and ancient Sun Temple. According to myth, weapons and armour of a Pandava army that camped here after their victory, dissolved in the water, giving the place its name: Loha (Iron)+Gal (To melt).

From thereon in Jaipur, I visited a couple of places that I had not seen before, both nestled in the Aravallis.

Rani Sisodiya Bagh

A hidden gem of a garden built by Sawai Jai Singh II for a princess of Udaipur, who agreed to marry him only on the condition that she be made the main queen of Jaipur.

Galta Ji

Home to a bathing tank fed by a perennial spring and a temple dedicated to a hermit named Galta ji, along with temples dedicated to Krishna and Ram. At the peak of the hill is a 350 year old Sun temple, reached after a hike of about 1.5km. The first rays of the Sun reaching Jaipur apparently fall on the idol in the temple. Views from the hill are outstanding.

Trip Summary
Day 1:
Gurgaon to Udaipurwati via Neem-ka-Thana & Patan -250 km, 6 hours
Udaipurwati to Lohargal – 15km, 30 min
Lohargal to Jaipur via Udaipurwati & Reengus – 160km, 3 hours

Day 2:
Jaipur sightseeing of Rani Sisodiya Bagh and Galtaji – 25km, 2 hours
Jaipur to Gurgaon – 230km, 4 hours

Total – 670km

Sun, Sand and Serendipity – A 2100km Road Trip through Kalibangan, Bikaner and Badoli

My little brother paid the motherland a visit after 2 years, and before the Indian summer set in with its full glory, the family decided to make it the first ever self-driven road trip for the family. So, off we set in late March, on a 6-day road trip with an itinerary so fluid that we only knew the first 3 places we planned to visit. Deciding to let the vagaries of chance sprinkle our journey with generous doses of surprise, we did not also book a hotel prior.

And boy, was it rewarding! With a mix of the famous and the little known (or even barely-frequented), this time we forayed through the desert to brush with history stretching back to 5000 years ago, in search of a lost river and a lost civilization, chanced upon desert lakes and desert wildlife, hobnobbed with human-like rats, and delved deep into a jungle on a temple chase while the sun was going down.

Hanumangarh

Our search of the mythical River Saraswati led us to the desert town of Hanumangarh, where we came upon the Bhatner fort, which dates its origin to the 2nd century AD. The old structures are now buried in mud, and the fort is being renovated.

Kalibangan

One of the earliest discovered and excavated Harappan sites, Kalibangan gave us a sneak peek into 5 millennia earlier. Sadly, the ruins are buried in mud, even the excavations have been covered up by the Archaeology Survey of India (ASI) to prevent further deterioration.

Walking on 5000 years of history, a civilization now lies buried under mounds

In the vicinity, we finally met the Ghaggar River, which is purported to be the Vedic Saraswati River – nothing more than a dried-up intermittent, almost obscure rivulet right now.

The dried bed of the Ghaggar river – purported to be the mythical Saraswati river

Badopal Lake

We took a slight detour through the desert hinterland to take a peek at the Badopal lake, a salt lake located beside the Badopal, an ancient mound, and part of the Rang Mahal culture.

Suratgarh

Another desert town midway between Hanumangarh and Bikaner, noted for its Thermal Power station and the air force base.

Lunkaransar

A fairly expansive salt-lake that is home to migratory birds, midway between Suratgarh and Bikaner

Bikaner

One of the major cities of Rajasthan, founded by Rao Bika, famous for Junagadh Fort and savory sweets and snacks

Deshnoke

Home to the Karni Mata Temple, where rats, who are considered children of the Goddess, behave just as humans! Eating nibbled on by the rats is considered auspicious. Accidentally or deliberately killing a rat requires replacing it with one made of gold or silver as atonement.

Rats feeding on offerings at Karni Mata temple

Kolayat

The place where the Vedic Sage Kapil (Kapil Muni) is said to have shed his body. Home to a lake and temples on its bank.

Bundi

A quaint town nestled in the Aravallis, with an imposing hill-side palace overlooking a lake.

Badoli Temple Complex

A 10th-11th century temple complex which crept into our plan by serendipity as we were short on time to visit the Gagron fort. The temples, dedicated to Shiva, Vishnu, Ganesha etc., were built by the Gurjara-Pratihara dynasty, and are described as one of the best representations of the temple. Situated on the banks of the Chambal just outside the village of Rawatbhata, it can be reached from Kota through winding roads cutting across hills and forest. As the sun was beginning to set, the ride through the forest was a race against time, and quite the adventure!

Ranthambore Fort

Rounding off the trip was the magnificent and legendary Ranthambore fort, situated on top of a hill right in the middle of the Ranthambore Tiger Sanctuary. The ride through the forest is memorable and so are the sights from atop the fort.

Trip Summary
Day 1:
Gurgaon to Hanumangarh via Sirsa (lunch break in Sirsa)
Saw Bhatner fort at Hanumangarh (overnight stay in Hanumangarh)

Day 2:

Hanumangarh to Kalibangan
Kalibangan to Suratgarh via Badopal (lunch break in Suratgarh)
Suratgarh to Bikaner via Lunkaransar (overnight stay in Bikaner)

Day 3:
Bikaner fort early morning (lunch at Bikaner after seeing the fort)
Bikaner to Deshnoke to Kolayat, and back to Bikaner (overnight stay in Baikaner)

Day 4:
Bikaner to Jaipur via Sikar (overnight stay in Jaipur)

Day 5:
Jaipur to Bundi
Bundi to Badoli Temple complex (Rawatbhatta)
Badoli to Kota (overnight stay in Kota)

Day 6:
Kota to Ranthambore
Ranthambore to Gurgaon via Dausa and Manoharpura

Bharatpur, Fatehpur Sikri and Deeg: Impromptu Outings

February 2020: Bharatpur

Just before Covid-19 burst into public consciousness, blissfully unaware of the impending pandemic, Abhijit and I set out on an impromptu trip to Bharatpur. We took the 1:15 PM Jan Shatabdi Express from Nizamuddin, and were in Bharatpur by 3.45 PM.

We took an autorickshaw to first see the Lohagarh fort located in the heart of the city. Crossing a moat that completely encircles the sturdy fort wall, we entered from the North Gate also known as the ‘Ashtadhatu’, literally, ‘eight metals’, gate. We then saw the Government Museum and the many historical structures attached to it, namely, Kachahri Kalan, Kamara Khas and Hamam (Persian Bath), followed by the Kishori Mahal, which was undergoing renovation, and the Surajmal memorial in front of it.

As darkness fell, we reached the road running in front of the Keoladeo Bird Sanctuary, along which lie numerous hotels and resorts, and booked a hotel room for the night.

The next morning at 8 AM, we simply walked down to the Bird Sanctuary, rented out a couple of bicycles, and a pair of binoculars and hired the services of a guide. We spotted coots, herons, storks, egrets, snake birds, ibises, warblers, owls, sandpipers, jacanas, bulbuls, pheasants and many more – just wish I was a serious bird-watcher, sometimes.

Glimpses from Keoladeo Bird Sanctuary, Bharatpur

By 12, we reached the end of the sanctuary, and turned back, eventually reaching the bus-stop at 2.30 PM. Catching a 3.30 bus to Delhi, we were back home by 8 PM. A month later, the lockdown commenced.

November 2021: Fatehpur Sikri and Deeg

One morning in November 2021, when we were still wearing masks due to Covid-19 but travel had resumed, Mother and I just decided to drive to Fatehpur Sikri. Starting at 9 AM, we took the KMP Expressway from Manesar, turning eastwards towards Palwal. At Palwal, we joined the Mathura Road highway, and were at Sikri by 11.30 AM.

On our Agra trip from a decade back, we had to forego seeing Fatehpur Sikri due to paucity of time, so it was good to finally see the fortified city, built by Akbar in a village that already existed. ASI excavations have revealed structures, including, housing, temples and commercial centres from long before Akbar made the city his capital, with archaeological evidence pointing towards settlement of the region since the Painted Grey Ware period.

At Fatehpur Sikri, we saw the Buland Darwaza, Jama Masjid and the Tomb of Salim Chisti in the Jama Masjid Enclosure. Then moving over to the Fatehpur Sikri fort area, we saw the Diwan-i-Aam (Public Audience Hall), Diwan-i-Khas (Private Audience Hall), Ibadat Khana (House of Worship), Panch Mahal, Anup Talao etc.

Buland Darwaza from outside, Fatehpur Sikri

From Fatehpur Sikri, we drove to Deeg, reaching the Deeg Fort around 4 PM. From Deeg Fort, we proceeded to the Deeg Palace – also known as Jal Mahal, as it is surrounded by aesthetically manicured water bodies and gardens having 900 fountains – serving as the summer palace for rulers of Bharatpur. Deeg is 60 km from Fatehpur Sikri and 35 km north of Bharatpur.

Deeg fort entry as seen from one of the watchpoints on the fort wall

After sundown, in the dark, hurtling over some bad roads, we reached Alwar, to stay the night over. The next morning we drove up the Aravalli to check out the Bala Qila (Alwar fort), but learned that it was closed for renovation. Coaxing the gatekeeper, we managed to just get to the courtyard and climb up a roof to get a panoramic view of the lush green Aravallis.

After lunch, we went for a drive to the Sariska area, but at 4.30 PM turned back for Gurgaon, and were back home by 8 PM.

Update [December 2023]

November 2023: Khatoo, Abhaneri and Bharatpur

I would again visit Bharatpur in November 2023, this time with my parents, and as part of a longer impromptu journey. We first planned to visit Sariska Tiger Sanctuary, but upon reaching the Sariska gate, we learnt the sanctuary was closed for the day. Having a quick lunch, we decided to go to Bhartruhari temple located in the Sariska forest area.

Once we had seen the temple, we made a split-second decision to proceed to Khatoo, 150 km away, via Kushalgarh and Narayanpur. At Kushalgarh, I got down to check out a tiny fort perched on a hillock – a fort I had always spotted while going to Sariska from Alwar, and back.

Kushalgarh fort as seen from the approach

We reached Khatoo around 7 PM and managed to get a quick darshan of Khatoo Shyam ji. Having our dinner by 9.30 PM, we proceeded to Jaipur to stay the night over. The next morning, we drove to Abhaneri to see the Chand Baori stepwell, and then proceeded to Bayana, by when it was already 4.30 PM (read about my Bayana fort adventure here: Barely Bright and Bovine Encounters at Bayana Fort).

Starting from Bayana at 6 PM, we reached Bharatpur, an hour away, and checked-in to a hotel at 7.30 PM. The next day, we saw the Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary, and proceeded through Goverdhan to Vrindavan, where my parents wanted to spend a few days. I drove back to Gurgaon solo.

Exploring Rajasthan through the Eyes of a Solo Backpacker turned Car Driver

Learning to drive has been a boon.

As a kid, I had been entranced by the pictures of sand dunes and forts in school textbooks and children’s magazines. One particular image from a Tinkle issue – a coloured sketch of the Vijaya Stambh at Chittorgarh fort had stuck in my mind, and in 2013, on one of my solo trips, I finally set foot on the Chittorgarh fort, and was absolutely spellbound by the location atop a table-top hill and the scale of the area bounded by its imposing walls. I have explored Rajasthan further, making it a point to explore at least one new place every year. Until before the pandemic struck, I had visited almost every major city of Rajasthan and then some.

However, it has never been about the destination as far as Rajasthan is concerned. Looking through the State Roadways bus windows, or craning the neck out from cabs and fancily decked-up auto-rickshaws, I have often marvelled at the intriguing shifts in landscapes – straddled by the Aravallis intercepting you shortly after you have entered from the East, with its table-top ranges swishing across like stripes of a tiger, some covered in a rich green cloak, yet others balding with their denuding rocky surfaces exposed, flanked now by swathes of lush green agricultural land, now turning light brown or pink or yellow with short lean trees strewn around as if social-distancing since time immemorial, then slowly turning golden as the ground surface mutates into waves of sandy dunes of the Thar. Abandoned forts and fortress walls crown hill tops every few scores of kilometres. Further south near Mount Abu, the Aravallis look nothing short of a slice from the Western or Eastern Ghats.

There is also a vast Salt Lake (Sambhar) somewhere at the edge of the desert in the heart of Rajasthan. Villages only turn up after long sprees of nothingness, and even then they are a collation of a handful of houses. Dried river channels cross your path occasionally, their sandy beds hinting at an older time of more abundance. Camels trundle along serenaded by their handlers, their upturned mouths betraying an indifference towards their dreary lives. Nomadic herders appear out of nowhere with flocks of little sheep and goats. Deeper in the desert, if you’re lucky, you may spot a monitor lizard or a hyena lurking amidst the shrubs.

In all of my trips prior to the pandemic, I have often been constrained by the mode of transport. There have been points or locations on the routes, which I have earmarked to return to later at my own leisure, since stopping by then was not an option. There have been roads emanating from the main roads that have often left me wondering as to where they led to. Now at 35, after learning to drive, I finally have the wherewithal to indulge in the fantasies that I harboured while travelling in my erstwhile cloistered fashion. This is an album to celebrate the many facets of the Rajasthan landscape that I have chanced upon on my most recent and some of my very first ever self-driving trips, which will hopefully be enriched with future trips.