Travelling in Rajasthan in February 2008
Jaipur >> Shekhawati >> Pushkar >> Jaisalmer >> Jodhpur
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Jaipur’s weather is at its best during the arrival or departure of winter. I have chosen one such time to be there, when the sun shines brightly after a long hangover of winter, but is not harsh and unforgiving yet. Even the good weather days of Rajasthan are difficult for me – the spoilsport who has lived in the tropics most of his life, in moderate climes where the mercury is friendly to the human body through the year. Wandering in the city’s roads, wind bites my skin and I find it cold every time I am in shadows. Its a pleasure to get out and feel the warmth of the sun in those moments, but only for some time before the sun starts burning the skin. Altering between sun and shadow was something I had to keep doing for my entire three weeks of stay in Rajasthan.
Like every other city with a history, Jaipur too, has an old walled block that is struggling to survive with the changing days, and a modern city that is fast expanding. Unlike popular belief, its not entire Jaipur but only the old city that gets called ‘Pink City’. Walking on the main streets of Old City, its a surprise even to the best informed traveller to witness every structure painted in pink. The uniformity doesn’t stop there. Every shop on the street, whether they sell groceries or clothes or mutual funds, all have the same shape and size and need numbering to distinguish one from other. Thank god for the numbers, without them one would have no idea how to find the shop he is looking for. But once in a while you see the order broken. Modern corporations, ever conscious of an image and with pressures to build their brands have tried to break out of the monotony and have raised sleek signboards in front of their offices. The pink palettes of Jaipur can’t survive democracy for long – it takes a king to bring an order of such degree and have no one question it.
One of the gates of the old walled city.
And it is indeed a king who decided the color of the buildings. Late nineteenth century, Maharaja Man Singh II decided that the best way to welcome the then Prince of Wales to Jaipur is to have the entire city painted in pink. Once the orders were dispatched, probably no questions were asked and the task would have been completed overnight. No protests from site owners, no bundh calls from opposition or no court hearing to stall the order.
Whether people of Jaipur in those days liked it or not, the pink city gave name and fame to Jaipur. There is a certain charm to see in the evenness of its lanes that is a relief from regular chaos of other parts of the city. Neatly lined up shops in perfect order selling every possible thing – grains by wholesale, clothes, hardware, crockery, plastic, anything you can think of. I even see sewing machines labeled ‘Nokia’ in a shop. But out of the sidewalks and into the streets, things are not much different. Roads are crowded in the peak hour with scooters, rickshaws, cars, bicycles and push-carts. Congestion happens often in roads probably built a few hundred years ago without a foresight of industrial revolution. Yet, it is impressive that the system has supported years of growth. After all, when it was established, Jaipur was the only city in the country built with a plan.
But despite the bustle of the market, an old world feel remains in the pink city’s structures. Once in a while you see ancient buildings that haven’t seen any restoration work in many years. Lanes leading out of the main roads are quiet and cozy without the noise of the traffic. Sandstone colored stucco are peeling off from old buildings with large domes on their top. Standing on the roof of a building, I can see arches on the top of old and worn out pink buildings spreading in all directions of the old city.
As I walk besides the shops on the way to City Palace, a few shopkeepers selling objects of tourists desire call at me, inviting me to take a look at their stockpile of handicrafts, souvenirs and colorful clothing. My eyes meet that of a rickshawalla when I cross a street, and there is a flicker of hope in his eyes as he thinks I might turnout to be a customer. A little ahead, there are two pigeons having a fight in their corner which lasts long enough for me to wait and watch. Just when it is erupting into a violence showdown, one of them accepts defeat and flies away.
I enter the complex of City Palace through a narrow gate that isolates the area from traffic, noise and the rush outside. The complex is a large area with empty, wide alleys and open spaces. Large gates with tall arches divide sections of the complex, with fluttering pigeons occupying every inch of free space on the top of these arches. Once in a while they rush out of their perches with loud flutter of wings, collectively strong enough to create small local currents of wind. The amiable Marwaris feed the pigeons generously, letting them thrive and grow plump in the quarters of Old City.
Continued at Old City: City Palace, Jantar Mantar and Hawa Mahal – II
Delhi’s history is something that has drawn me into the city strongly, thanks to William Ddalrymple’s City of Djinns. Someday I hope to visit all those places he talks about and describes so well that I could feel the Delhi of the past unfolding as I read the book. A few images here, of what remains of Delhi’s past today.
Qutub Minar – one of the most imposing structures of Delhi is also one of the oldest surviving. Also see a photo essay on Qutub Minar
Nizamuddin Daraga – hidden behind a network of narrow lanes near Humayun’s Tomb, it is not easy to find out where the Darga is. A small hard-to-notice sign put up by ASI doesn’t help much either. When my rickshaw driver stopped at the main road near Darga, I looked around for the shrine, not finding any. It is easy to get lost many times during the short 5-minute walk from the main road to the Darga.
The library at Purana Kila is where Humayun died, falling down from a staircase. “The press release said it is an accident,” my friend who took me there told me, “but they say he was heavily under the influence of dope.” I had shot many more pictures from the leafy environs of the Kila, but unfortunately seem to have lost them somewhere.
Maharaja Ugrasen’s Baoli is right in the heart of the city, in Connaught Place but is not known to many. Surprisingly, though it is maintained by the ASI, it is not published in their list of monuments in Delhi. The Baoli is a very quiet place and is grand in size and depth.
The red fort is one well known monument the whole nation is familiar with. We have seen the images of its front gates many times on national television. Though it looks grand from the outside, the insides are hardly anything to talk about. Most of the structures inside are in poor shape and there are unsightly buildings built in the post Mughal period by the British and the Indian Army.
Delhi’s historical places are too many in number, and I know I haven’t even scratched the surface of Delhi here. To put into perspective, ASI’s website mentions of at least 174 monuments that they maintain in Delhi. There would be many more outside their dominion. Some day, I hope spend months in Delhi, exploring and understanding the past of Delhi through its monuments and bringing out more of city’s glory in images.
More about Delhi on paintedstork.com
* Photo Essay on Qutub Minar
* Walking trail – Old Delhi
On a fine sunny morning, I took a local bus from Kanyakumari and arrived at the leafy environs of Padmanabhapuram Palace. The area around the palace is thickly covered with coconut groves on all sides, and sunlight hardly reaches the ground except where the landscapes are interrupted by tarmac.
The entrance to the palace is predictably surrounded by eateries and souvenir shops. Buying keepsakes is not something I am used to, but nevertheless, ingenious use of coconut shells to create monkeys and Ganeshas succeeded to garner my attention. A short inspection of the surroundings, and I zeroed in on an ancient looking eatery for breakfast.
The dosa at the breakfast place, served with a red chutney with plenty of coconut(do they ever make anything without coconuts in these parts?) was delicious enough for me to go for a second helping. And I was fed with another dose of coconut by a tender coconut vendor at the doors of the palace.
The palace dates back by 400 years, when it was built by the renowned Travancore king Marthanda Varma. But its glory days lasted less than a century, as his successor Dharma Raja decided to move his capital to Thiruvananthapuram. Padmanabhapuram to Thiruvananthapuram? I think Travancore kings loved long names!
The first sight of the palace is unfortunately the least impressive. Soon after I walked through the entrance, I was beginning to doubt if the trip was worth the effort.
The first hall – a courtyard where the king met his visitors – has been praised to no end by palace guides on location as well as the guidebooks, but doesn’t leave a big impression. A lamp, a chair supposedly gifted by a Chinese visitor and a plain stone bed hardly make a mark.
But proceeding further, impressions of the palace change as quickly as it was built up. The mantrasala – the discussion chamber of courtiers has an impressive display of light and shade created by wooden window grills. The colorful windows have placeholders to store perfumes that spread in the room when the wind blows in. The dark and hard flooring of the room and rest of the palace have a superb finish that almost match marbles in their finesse.
The palace has an army of employees serving as tour-guides, whose services are included in the entry fee. A few years ago, a guide would escort each group of visitors through the palace and explain it all from beginning to end. That meant, in days when there are lot of visitors, people had to be rushed through the palace so that everyone can be attended to, and leaving most tourists unhappy. The Kerala archeological department worked on an ingenious solution to the problem: now they have placed two guides in every section of the palace, filling the palace with guides who stay put in their location and brief the tourists. Each section of the palace has clearly marked directions aiding the visitors to find their way through the maze of halls and rooms in the palace.
Walking further from Mantrasala, the arrow marks lead me to the long dining hall where Brahmins once dined in hundreds, thanks to the benevolent king. Huge jars and cauldrons stored at a corner of the hall tell the story of food that was probably cooked in tonnes.
First floor of the dining hall gives excellent view of sections of the palace towering with maroon colored tiled roof, sloping steeply. Walking down from here to a pooja hall called ‘mother palace’, I am once again impressed with ornate carvings of wood, smooth flooring and airy windows with wooden bars. A pillar with intricate woodwork charms me with its carvings of plantains and floral patterns.
Further ahead is Upparika Mahal – the four-storied tower that served as the king’s quarters. A narrow staircase leads up to the king’s bed room in second floor. Further up is a room with frescoes that is out of bounds to visitors. Kerala Archeological Department has closed this room to help preserve the paintings, but how-ever, tourists are always told that the rooms are under renovation. A few poor quality copies are kept in the palace museum, but they are barely good enough to indicate that the originals are excellent paintings, and leave you with a longing to see them.
I pass from here to the airy women’s quarters, and then to the long corridors of guest-rooms that now host some beautiful old paintings of the life and times of Marthanda Varma. The paintings – including coronation of the king, a plot to kill his majesty, war scenes – are well preserved, even when the brand new tiny wooden labels under the paintings have already fallen off!
Just besides the guest-rooms is a green open area with lush grass and tall coconut trees, and a pond at a corner of the palace. I spent a long time standing in a balcony overlooking the pond, observing the fish in the water and a cormorant feeding on them(Here is a separate story on the pond).
The signs helping visitors to find their directions lead me from here to Navarathri Mantapa and Saraswati Temple. These are carved from stone, a significant detour from the wooden structures in rest of the palace. The Mantapa, the place for performances in the palace, is adorned with carved pillars and a floor that is polished well enough to create reflections.
I had almost lost track of time and was engrossed in the impressiveness of the palace. I realized having spent many hours inside only when the signs leading out of the Mantapa took me back to the entrance, indicating end of my trip. Hunger pangs then lead me out of the palace, and further down the road for yet another helping of the delicious dosa.
Padmanabhapuram Information
Visit to the palace is best done as a day-trip from either Kanyakumari or Trivendrum.
How to reach: To get to the palace, take a Trivendrum bound bus from Kanyakumari(or the other way), and get down at Thuckalay town. You can hire an auto-rickshaw from Thuckalay to the palace, which is 3km away.
Nearest major train stations are at Trivendrum and Nagercoil, and the nearest airport is at Trivendrum.