Itchy Feet

Street food, in fact, all food in India can be so colourful and interesting... Here is some arty street food from Amber, Jaipur. Photograph clicked from elephant-back...



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And here is one for the sheer dazzle and striking colours... Carrots so fresh they hurt the eye... From Mahabaleshwar...

A structure made entirely with windows, in fact, built only for the purpose of being a window to the world. For the royal women of Jaipur who used to stand behind the numerous windows at Hawa Mahal

Hawa Mahal, the palace of winds, not just due to the gentle breeze of the evening that the royal women must have felt caressing their faces after the stifling desert heat of the day... Hawa Mahal, not just the palace of winds but a castle in the air... The story being that the foundation of this huge building is just one foot deep but supports five storeys...




A five storeyed structure, Hawa Mahal is not really a palace, but merely a facade; there is nothing inside it. Except level after level of narrow corridor over which the royal women used to be carried on palanquins, intricately carved pillars and windows and more windows than they could have ever looked out of... 953 windows in all, has anyone counted...?

And a structure that tapers towards the top, the entire shape representing the crown on the hed of Lord Krishna... This is in keeping with the other depictions in Rajsthan of scenes from the life of krishna and Radha - frescos, murals, paintings...





Which is why you enter the mahal not from the front, but from the back... And make your way towards the front. Walking ahead, if you turn around, you see just beyond the mahal Jantar Mantar, or the observatory built by Sawai man Singh and considered a scientific marvel for is times. And from the top, you get views of the Jaigarh and Nahargarh forts in the distance...








You hear from the guide about the place where the women played and prayed. You hear about the angle of the mahal that is such that people inside could see out but not vice versa...
You hear about the secret passage that connects the mahal to the city palace, so the queens could make their way to their viewpoint without being seen by the outside world...

At each level, you stop and stare out of the windows and try to imagine what the women saw in those days. Certainly not this...





And you wonder about notions of privilege and modernity; did the royal women like to be pampered and cosseted and sheltered so? Did they have a choice, or did they even think about it? I once had an interesting discussion with some friends at flickr on this... have a look at this and tell me what your thoughts on this are...

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Other Rajasthan Posts :

Magical Bundi
A trip to Jodhpur
The magnificent forts of Jaipur

The king wanted to sleep under the open skies. But perhaps it was too cold outside...? This is desert territory after all. So he had a candle lit inside the room. Maybe many candles. And he lay down on the royal bed. And looked up at the ceiling. At the open sky where thousands of stars were twinkling... On the mosaic of mirrors.

The guide has a smug look on his face as he flicks a match stick, the light bounces off his pearly white teeth and suddenly we see stars in the day too.





This was Sheesh Mahal or the palace of mirrors at Amber Fort Palace near Jaipur. Amber, also known as Amer, was once the capital of the Kachhwaha Rajputs who are said to have ruled over the region for over seven centuries. Amber palace has many interesting features inside - gardens and pavillions and smaller palaces and halls, but Sheesh Mahal is easily the most mesmerising... And entire palace with mirrors and glass pieces embedded on all the walls and ceilings.




Brilliant stained glass windows. Enamel work. Striking colours. All of which have lasted over centuries... despite the best efforts of tourists and travelers who have chipped at them and broken pieces off them - to take back home as souvenirs perhaps?





There are two prominent motifs all over the fort and palace - the main is that of the sun, signifying the belief that rulers of this dynasty were descendants of the sun. The main entry to the palace is through Suraj Pol, or the Sun gate which faces the east.





The lattice work seen in this picture is a typical feature of the artchitcture of those times - a veil in stone for the the women of the family, the zenana. The women stood behind the structure to watch the world outside; the world could not see them...

The Diwan-e-am or the common hall for the subjects of the kingdom is to the left just before entering the palace. Here is the other common motif in evidence everywhere, the elephant. The hall is made entirely of pink stone, in keeping with other Jaipur architecture.

Interestingly, both the sun and elephant are believed to be symbols of royalty, even today in some places.



Apart from Jai Mandir or the hall of victory which houses the Sheesh Mahal, the fort palace also contains the royal apartments, the diwan-e-khas the hall for the private privileged audience, the Kali Mandir or the special place of worship for the king, the zenana or the chambers of the women which are supposed to have been designed in such a way that the king had private and secret access to any of the chambers. The other wives had no inkling about who was the chosen wife of the night... And to keep them occupied at other times are remarkable and bright frescoes depicting scenes from Krishna Leela.

The fort palace is on top of a hill and can be reached throught a narrow cobblestone path. You can climb up the path or take a ride on a brightly painted elephant; some of the creatures wear hideous make up, bright pinks and yellows and oranges and blues together... And pink nail polish on the toes too...



We went up on elephant back - it was ceratinly the more adventurous option...You barely get used to swaying rocking motion of the elephant that you begin to notice other elephants passing you by from the other side on the narrow path, their swishing tails barely missing your face, and their mahouts adriotly avoiding collisions... You steady your hand and widly beating heart and suddenly the resident monkeys of the place jump at you from the trees... And on the ground, following you are vendors loudly selling kitschy postcards and souvenirs - and I thought to myself, do the touristy thing and you get touristy treatment... Food stalls, fruit juices, souvenir vendors dotted throughout the path...





If you are ever in Jaipur, be sure to visit Amber fort and palace, barely 11 km from Jaipur towards Delhi. Hire a guide there, or take a match box with you.

On the way to Amber fort palace, Jaigarh and Nahargarh forts, and Jal Mahal in the middle of the lake...

Jaigarh or the fort of victory is atop a hill and was the defence post for the rulers. Based on rumours that they buried all their treasure inside the fort, Indira Gandhi at the time of emergency had excavations made all over. Without success. Jaigarh is also home to jaivan the victory cannon, which is supposed to be the largest moving cannon in the world. It is said that the cannon was never used in war; it is only worshipped on the day of Ayudha Puja. Nahargarh, the summer palace of the rulers... most of it in ruins but with spectacular views of Jaipur city in the distance.



No monkeys here, but birds all the way through the route to these forts...






And perhaps some of the tourists there are looking for hidden treasure, even today...

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Other Rajsthan posts : Magical Bundi, A trip to Jodhpur

Some images from drives on the Mumbai Pune expressway- most of these photographs taken from our moving, almost-speeding-but-not-quite car. Driving through the tunnels is great fun, wet tracks inside the tunnels from all the speeding tyres, leaky roofs, losing signal on your mobile phone and all. The mark of the mosoons everywhere...



That was a particularly lucky shot. Most often, the picture is fuzzy, the lights dominant, dancing a peppy disco. Sometimes, a mild star wars effect.





I can never forget that early morning drive back to Mumbai from Pune where the driver of the taxi kept waking me up every ten minutes to say, madam, aap so kyon rahi hain? itna accha scenery hai - aap scenery dekho na - why are you sleeping, why don't you watch the lovely "scenery"? However, there are days when the entire "scenery" is nothing but thick clouds and fog, the entire hillside covered by this magical white blanket.



Driving on the expressway is most fun during the monsoons, the roads washed clean by the rains, vehicles driving slower than normal, the flowers along the sides brighter then ever. Waiting for the rain to stop and then driving with the car windows down, feeling the whooshing breeze on your face, and also those rain drops which have remained hidden so far. Almost unbroken views of lush green hill-side, waterfalls that have magically sprung up in the last one hour...

And stopping for chai and chikki. Watching the kids running all over the place, cranky after the long drive, cooped up inside their vehicles, all their pent up energy suddenly finding release. And the mothers tired and irritated, running after them. Fathers with all their attention on their cars, catching a quick furitive smoke. Or bus loads of travelers alighting for a break.

Wondering about those looming sign boards warning - watch out for falling rocks. How does one watch out for falling rocks? And what does one do if one sees a rock falling - except get out of its way as quickly as possible? I imagine people driving with their necks craned, constantly watching out for loose rocks that might land on the road, or the car...

And suddenly swerving as a solitary scooter rider appears as if from nowhere right in front of you. Where did he come from now? And what is he doing on the expressway, and travelling in the direction opposed to the flow of traffic?

Then you smile thinking of the days of mind-numbing traffic jams on the old Mumbai Pune road through the ghats, what is now NH4. The hugely overloaded lorries with cheerful painted signs on their backs, the scooters and motorbikes weaving their way through the congestion, the never-ending row of chikki shops and the smell of vada pao from all sides as you inch your way through the town of Lonavala, the constant staccato of horns blaring... some peope claim to miss all this on the expressway route... I don't.

Spotted at Kalyan on the way to Malshej Ghat : Siva Shakti English Covent School

And for famished reptile lovers, on the menu at Sushant Hotel in Malshej Ghat - Veg Snakes

Not spotted : the flamingos we went in search of, all the way to Malshej Ghat, braving the potholes and the heavy rains.

The road was excellent in parts and terrible in others; but the drive was very pleasant, which made up for the craters.







The clouds kept playing hide and seek with us all the way through. Maybe it was because of the thick cloud cover that we lost our way once we reached the top of the hill...? If it is possible to lose one's way on what must have been a straight road, we managed it. We were looking for the aptly if unimaginatively named Flamingo Hill resort, where the birds are said to flock very monsoon. Alas, no resort, no flamingo.

However, lots of brilliant views; verdant green and bright yellows all over. And long walks across narrow paths, minor waterfalls everywhere. And best of all, no holidaying crowds from Bombay...



The next monsoon, we will go back to Malshej Ghat, and this time we will spot the flamingo. And trek to Harishchandragad, and see the rain fall up on the cliffs, and water-rises in place of water falls... some scientists attribute this strange phenomenon to ‘the north-south wind blowing on the plateau changing its direction to east-west; and the south–west wind being channelised into a funnel.

Whatever else, definitely flamingo, here we come...

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This piece on Malshej Ghat is part of my series on getways close to Bombay - Just few hours away. The first in this was on Pawna Lake here.

The swivel chair at home has now a new use. Since I have been off the internet and blogging, the computer chair lay unused for the last few days. Till my husband in a flash of brilliance converted it into my personal wheel chair. I came back from hospital with both feet bandaged - I kicked - i.e. waved my hands wildly - and screamed and foiled the best efforts of my doctors and the hospital administrators to get me to stay there for a couple of days. I got off the car and since then have been moving around in the swivel chair.

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Here is some more armchair - swivel chair, wheelchair whatever - travel. The first in the series on just a few hours away. Mostly photo essays with descriptions in between.

It was a lazy rainy Sunday afternoon when we drove to Kamshet. Allured by the promises of the numerous lakes that dot the region, and of paragliding adventures, and armed with the Outlook Traveler Weekend breaks guide. No clear directions except the knowledge that Kamshet was just after Lonavala, barely a two hour drive from Bombay.

After much stopping for directions, and much more assistance from helpful locals who did not have a clue but did not let that prevent them from giving us directions as they saw fit, we reached Pawna lake at Kamshet. And suddenly we forgot all the wrong turns and the squabbles in the car.



Pawna was serene and windy, cool and inviting. And thankfully uncrowded. A small shack selling tea and garam pakoras - just the right thing for rainy afternoons. A few high cane chairs all over the lawns. And the gentle breeze lulling one into sleep. Stupid smiles on our faces. Bliss.





Till the tourists hit. The carload of them jumped on to the grass, stipped in front our of disbelieving eyes and ran to the lake and jumped in. And suddenly Pawna lake was only about underwear and pot bellies and the obscene screams of merrymaking middle aged men. Time for us to leave.

We got lost on the way back to Lonavala, (mis)guided by a local who pointed out a "short cut" route. The road on his route was non existent but was full of surprises. Like this sudden sharp turn on the road here. The distant view of the hills through this wedge in the rocks.



And locals drying chillies and fish on the road and gaping at our car as we passed. And old men with umbrellas and walking sticks, and tirchi topi firmly in place.



A bumpy drive on dusty roads. And finally Lonavala. With this one stop at the side of the pond just after. Striking red of the temple wall and spire across the pond. More conversations over roasted corn and raindrops falling on the face.





And then the expressway back to Bombay. Kamshet invites us again - other lakes to be discovered, Lohagad fort to be trekked up to, and paragliding dreams...

I have been at home, down and out with a wound in the foot that has got infected. Have been running - limping actually - between doctors who stare at the foot perplexed, and plot (!) the next move in their heads. I have been putting off this small operation but will have to go for it immediately now since all the antibiotics that have been pumped into the system have not worked so far.

So here is some armchair travel to cheer me up as I sit and twiddle my thumbs at home. This one on the Marwari bastion of Jodhpur. My Jodhpur visit last October was not particularly pleasant; tourism there is totally geared towards the Western visitor. Domestic racism? But there is something magical about the Mehrangarh fort and the life it holds within its walls that somehow makes up for everything else.



Inside the huge rooms, you find yourself staring at the colorful jaali work on the windows. And you catch reflections of this colour between the huge pillars that hold up the room. And you catch yourself wondering about how the place must have been in the older times, all its original colour and pomp intact. What was the reason for the houses, and the town itself, to be painted a bright shade of purple-blue?



As you step out and walk through the corridors, you watch others like you, people from other states, from other countries fascinated. Just as you are. Fascinated by the human and not human elements that make the fort.





Capturing images through their senses, through their hands to carry back with them. Far away where they come from.






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Can kitsch ever be charming? Or even captivating? The Marwar festival at Jodhpur was. Oh, all the right symbols screaming out "tradition" and "heritage", but something innocent all the same. The brightly decorated camels and elephants. The best way to catch the spirit of the Jodhpur Marwar festival is to roam the streets of the city during the day.

Here you see the pied piper of Jodhpur, there the dancers on wooden horses.






And at evenfall, head to Mandore gardens, just outside the town. As you wait for the performances to begin, watch the hundreds of monkeys eyeing your camera and greedily reaching out for the peanuts you throw their way. As the first singer raises her voice to the tune of Rajasthan's anthem, padaro mharo desh, a hush descends on the restless crowds. And the next three hours fly past.

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If local "sightseeing" is not enough to keep you happy and occupied, head out to Osian, barely 65 km from Jodhpur. Visit the Jain temples there, take a camel ride on the desert, take in more "culture" with these brilliant local performers.

Alternatively, you could just watch silent and spellbound, the sunset on the desert.

And wonder about nature's fashion sense - just what is she thinking of - wearing all those bright yellows and oranges and purples and pinks and reds all at the same time?



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Or you could just do what I like doing best in new places. Amble round the streets aimlessly. Looking at shops selling mojris and mirror work bags. Stopping only for piping hot and sinful jaliebis and samosas. Or for a hard bargain at one of the road side shops. And coming away pleased. As much with your purchases as with your bargaining skills. And not looking back to see the smirk on the face of the seller.

Taking in such busy morning scenes. And wondering yet again about the point of one's hurried no-time-to-stand-and-stare existence back home.



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My earlier piece on Bundi Rajasthan is here. And if the foot remains the same way in a few days' time, expect more.