[gallery size="medium" td_select_gallery_slide="slide" td_gallery_title_input="Jaisalmer – The Golden City" ids="76239,76240,76241"]
By Naseel Voici
‘How old are you?’ I asked Salim, the little ‘camelwala’ who has led us in to the endless stretches of India’s Thar Desert. ‘‘Seven. I am seven years old’’ came his reply in his local Hindi, which sounded straight and sharp. Then, he increased his pace, as if to avoid answering any more questions. I guess a seven-year-old boy taking tourists for a camel safari, walking barefoot in the hot sand to earn a living, would definitely have much more serious things to think about. Leaving him alone, I focused on the captivating beauty of the desert, also known as the Great Indian Desert, and the bumpy camel ride, but at times our eyes met and I saw the whole story of the desert villages hidden in them, dull and lifeless.
It was in September 2015 when I visited Jaisalmer - the desert city of Rajasthan - on a trip from the land of rain and mountains to the land of desert. As always, travel becomes more interesting when traveling by train, so I decided to book a second class ticket. It is the cheapest way to travel in India, but apart from that, it is like traveling in a story book. You get a feel of raw India. People, mostly villagers, are generally accommodating and are more than happy to talk to strangers. Women who travel from one station to another to sell fruits, the old man heading to Ajmer Sherriff - the pilgrim center - in search of spirituality, families that going to their ancestral home to spend their vacation, the smell of chutney: the stories are endless. If you get the chance to travel in second-class, never miss it.
By 6am, after a night of stories, I reached Jaisalmer. The first glimpse of the city was enough to fill a traveler’s heart: morning bliss of the golden city. Jaisalmer is one of the beautiful cities in the culturally rich state of Rajasthan. It reverberates the epitome of natural and historic beauty; a citadel of exotic getaways, massive forts, and ornate temples ushering the charm and hostility of the Great Indian Desert. With the help of a taxi driver, Azad, who I met outside the railway station, I took a room in a hotel to freshen up, and after getting ready, I decided to visit Jaisalmer fort. The taxi driver was waiting outside the room and had no intention of leaving me. “Discount rates” he said, using his marketing techniques. The sun was burning outside and I shook hands with him. Sometimes a simple gesture is enough to create a sense of togetherness and brotherhood.
Inside the living fort
The view of the Jaisalmer fort, or Golden Quila, was mesmerizing. The fort guarding the city amidst the golden sands of the Thar Desert, with the golden hue of the sun shining down, makes it a magical and unforgettable sight. And unlike most forts around the world, Jaisalmer is unique; it is the only fort in India where people still live! In the words of taxi driver, it is a living fort.
Anybody who visits can catch a glimpse of what life was like within the walls of the fort. Narrow streets take one around the fort, within which everyone knows everyone else and everybody gifts a smile to the visitors. It has houses, shops and hotels inside the fortified walls, apart from the usual palaces and temples. The fort, now a UNESCO world heritage site, was constructed in 1156 AD by the ruler, Rao Jaisal. It had also been under the control of Alau-din-Khilji and Humayun after winning legendary battles. Later, the palace and the chambers inside the fort were converted into a museum which now displays the rare collections of the royal family.
Walking through history, bargaining with local traders who sell Rajasthani handicraft, and tasting traditional food like papad ki kachuri, I felt like I was walking back into the past. Making my way through the narrow and cramped pathways of the fort, I reached in to the Havelis, or palaces of wealthy noblemen. These old palaces are a major tourist attraction in Jaisalmer, and rightly so; they are palatial, and belonged to the erstwhile landlords of the area. The first was the well-maintained Kothari Pathway Haveli. Adorned with beautiful paintings and glass work, the Havelis portray the luxurious lifestyle of the nobles who once lived here. The next was poorly maintained and was home to thousands of bats. But what every Haveli had in common were the beautiful carvings and the architecture that was worth a closer look.
It was time for lunch, so Azad brought me back to the present, though I wished to stay back in the stories and carvings of lost glory. Lunch was simple - a vegetable curry and chapatti - but delicious. It’s amazing what local women can do with a small pot, some vegetables and a handful of masala spices. I was told I’d reach the desert by 4 pm. A trip to Jaisalmer is incomplete without a camel safari. And how could a man from the land of rain miss the chance of experiencing a desert?
The desert was 40km from the main town. Azad was a wonderful guide, and made several stops along the way to point out villages and wildlife. Nearly 20km from town, he stopped the car and pointed to a nearby village: “sir that is Kuldhara, the abandoned village.” Kuldhara has a story: some 300 years ago, it used to be a prosperous village of Paliwal Brahmins under the state of Jaisalmer. It was during this time that Salim Singh, the diwan of Jaisalmer, known for his debauchery and unscrupulous tax-collecting methods, set his eyes on the beautiful daughter of the village chief. He wanted to marry her by force, and he threatened the village with grave consequences if they did not adhere to his wish. Fearing the wrath of the Diwan, the residents of the entire village fled one dark night, leaving behind their homes and everything in them. But before leaving, they put a curse on Kuldhara, allowing no one to settle in their village thereafter. To this date, the village remains abandoned.
After Kuldhara, I reached the camel safari point, which marked the beginning of the Thar Desert. The much-awaited safari would start here. There were two options; travel alone or with a co-rider. I decided to trael alone, but it wasn’t as easy as I’d imagined, as the ride was quite unstable. To sit on a camel was not really comfortable, undulating like double pogo sticks. There were three camels and five riders, and one boy walked in front of our camels leading them. While we were trying to cover our bodies as much as possible to protect ourselves from the sun, the boy was wearing a loose pajama and a thin chapel. We were struggling because of the hot sand wind, but he remained unaffected. He walked through the endless desert like somebody had designed a route for him, and the camels followed. I wanted to know more about him, but he answered all my queries with a single word, as if he had no interest in sharing his personal life.
After I left him alone, I started enjoying the ride. Surrounded by sand on all sides, I felt tiny. It was scary, but so beautiful: nature at her rawest. There was no shade, but only the endless desert. Spending the evening in the sand dunes is an experience to be remembered. As I stood there on the sands of the Thar, for miles in front of me, all I could see were sand dunes of various shapes and heights. There was no man-made noise, no birds chirping, not even a breeze rustling though leaves. There were no trees. If one stood still, one could feel silence in its absolute magnitude.
It took us about two hours to travel ten kilometers. The sun was setting, and we had to return. As I didn’t want to miss the sunset, I asked Salim to slow the camel. “It’s already slow” he said, smiling. Return journeys always feel quicker. Azad was waiting for me as I had to catch the night train back to Jaipur, to more second class stories.
