Rajasthan, which literally means the land of kings, has a colourful history of warriors and princes, artisans and farmers, forts and palaces, of honour and love, of betrayal and conquest. No matter how many travel books you have seen with pictures of delicate miniature paintings of elephants, tigers, rajas, maharajas, queens, hunting parties, wedding receptions, colourful women dressed in a mad array of rainbows painted in the form of the most extravagant geometrical poetry; nothing quite prepares you for Rajasthan.
In the first instant, I felt a loss of what to absorb and what to ignore. If you take in the sprawling mountains and the cool winter morning misty breeze, you might miss the villagers carrying their water from miles of barren land. If you take in the houses with their curious shapes and mountains on one side, you might miss the forts and palaces on the hillocks. You could miss the marble quarry. You could miss the poetry of the dialect or the spice of their simple food. (I hate simple food). You could miss their smiles, which have remained intact through centuries of invasion, endless years of drought, extreme climate and hard times. Let us try to get a little more specific and go one place at a time.
Let us talk about Nathdwara, which means the door to the Lord. Nathdwara is in South Rajasthan. You could get there by train, bus, or a plane to the nearest city Udaipur. I took the train journey, landed at Falna, and took a jeep to Nathdwara after banging in a few cups of Tea and Coffee with some fried stuff that dietician’s would give you a life sentence for. Early morning jeep rides are slightly chilly, especially in the northwestern part of the country. Nathdwara is famous for the temple of Srinathji, which was founded there in 1671. Srinathji is yet another form of Krishna and enjoys more than a fair following amongst the Vaishnavas. I personally am a believer. The first day at Nathdwara could pass in seven visits to the temple and seeing the various forms of the Lord. You could take a discount by taking the first prayer at 5.00 am and setting off to Udaipur, which takes an hour in the bus. Discounts are my speciality. Udaipur is probably the only green place in Rajasthan. It has its shares of zoos, gardens and palaces. However, since I had just a few hours, I walked to the City Palace, which has a museum. The museum is full of heavy artillery, rooms for the princesses, colourful rooms, balconies that face the city, brief history of the brave Rana Pratap, who took on the mighty Akbar, old chariots, mind blowing pictures of hunting parties on tree tops on hills shooting at a dozen or so tigers/panthers in a single painting. Udaipur has always brimmed with artisans who painted for the royal family. There are seven lakes in all in the city, which makes it ‘the city of lakes’. Beautiful women have their afternoon bath in these lakes. The best way to see a city is on foot. I did exactly that, passing through shops and hawkers, drinking lemonades and keeping my curious eyes on cows and dogs, bicycles and video parlour showing ‘Octopussy’, which incidentally was made partly in Udaipur. Roger Moore is a nice guy and girls must have found him charming and all, but hey, he is no Sean Connery. Udaipur is beautiful, slightly full these days. A proper city resembles Delhi.
