Desert Tales

Parts 1 to 4

I’m so looking forward to a hot shower. It’s been ages. The nights are cool here, so cool that when I go to massage coconut oil into my skin in the mornings the oil has solidified, and I have to dig it out of its skinny bottle with the back of my tweezers.

Yeah, the mornings are cool, and my wash water is really cold. But I guess that’s good for my circulation.

I guess.

Every day I’ve been exploring a little more of the amazing Jaisalmer Fort, way up on the hill.

The fort is what makes Jaisalmer famous. It’s an incredible structure, built over centuries on top of the only hill around these parts.

It's pretty amazing to see, from any angle. From below, you can see the lower walls, with the round bastions spaced regularly around the whole perimeter of the massive structure.

Of course, its magnificence makes it a magnet for tourists, and at the moment, due to Diwali holidays and the cooler weather, there’s a shitload of Indian tourists traipsing through the fort at any time of the day. It does get much quieter in the evenings though.

There’s not that many Westerners here, I’m not exactly sure where they all are. I guess Jaisalmer’s a little too far from the regular tourist trail to make it an obvious stop for the majority of foreign visitors in India. Almost all of the foreign tourists I’ve met lately are Europeans or North Americans with only two, three or four weeks of leave, and most do the Delhi toTaj Mahal to Jaipur triangle, and maybe fly to Varanasi or Mumbai if they have time, before jetting back home and back to work.

But younger travellers on gap years, or uni students, or people who have more time to explore (like me), do make it here, because, really, it’s a pretty incredible place to experience.

Gravity-defying pigeons

The foundations for the fort were laid in 1156, by Maharwal (King) Jaisal, and the bulk of the structure was built over only about 7 years. Over the next century additions and improvements were made, but the fort in its present form has, incredibly, existed for many centuries now.

Unlike many forts in Rajasthan, this one incorporates an old city inside it, which still functions today. Thousands of people still live up there, in homes their families have occupied for centuries. It’s hard for me to imagine what that’s like.

So yeah, it’s a vibrant, active place.

Once inside the imposing front gates and through the first walls, the cobblestone path rises steeply, and eventually leads to the central part of the inner walled city.

The rulers’ palaces tower over the central square, and provide views over not just the walled city, but over all the plains below.

The lower wall is around 5 km in circumference, 2-3 m thick, and is fortified with 99 bastions, each of which once housed fully armed guards. The main fort has 2 walls running parallel, around 2 - 4 metres apart in different places, and soldiers also occupied this area between the 2 walls, and used it to move between the different bastions and other parts of the city.

The central square inside the fort.

The fort was built to be secure. And it worked. The defences have only been breached 3 times in almost 1000 years, and none of those occupations lasted for long periods. When they faced defeat in battle, however, the Rajputs here never ever surrendered, as they believed in the principle of death over defeat.

On the few occasions when they were blockaded by invading armies, and their ammunition, food and water finally ran out, and therefore defeat was inevitable, the sacred drums would ring out through the city, the men would dress in their orange battle gear, ride through the city gates and then be slaughtered on the battlefield, killing as many of the invaders as they could in the process.

Simultaneously, the women left inside the fort would carry out jauhar, which involved throwing themselves onto huge bonfires, rather than face potential rape or enslavement by the men of the invading army.

And Allah knows what happened to the kids.

Yeah, they were pretty brutal times.

A view of part of the central palace.

This, my friends, is not wood. It’s solid stone. The stonework in this place is nothing short of spectacular, and the stone carvers from centuries ago are the real heroes of this whole place, in my view. Can you imagine the work involved in carving just one of the many windows? It’s unbelievable.

The art and beauty of the architecture here is truly exquisite, and a real sight to behold. I’ve been seriously gobsmacked by the intricate detail in the stonework all over Rajasthan, and by the enormous scale of it all.

Chatting on the corner. Chat, or chaat, is a Hindi word that’s sort of an umbrella term for roadside snacks, normally savoury ones, but sometimes sweets as well.

Making fresh juice. Lots and lots of it.

Beautiful fabrics for sale. Rajasthan and the neighbouring state of Gujarat are famous throughout India for their intricate fabric designs.

School Uniforms of the World Exhibit 37a - the waistcoat look

A view of the Golden City outside the walls, taken from close to the top of the fort

Tourist crowds in the lower courtyard.

Inside The Palace

Parts of the interior of the ancient palace are open to the public, and have been made into a museum of sorts. Of course I went in to explore, along with my complementary audio guide, which was basically a very old repurposed mobile phone brick, which kept distorting and cutting out. No real surprises there, considering where I am.

The steps leading to the palace.

Magnificent architecture all over the place

The first part of the museum contained an armoury of weapons from across the centuries.

Daggers in leather sheaths

Lance heads, and a double-tipped arrow head

All the armies in those days were partly horse-bound. Where there’s horses, there’s horse-whips. Why else would the beasts of burden carry those massively heavily armoured soldiers all over the place?

Gunpowder holders

Next up were some of the lavish living quarters of the royal families.

One of the Maharawal’s thrones. Note the lion hand rests. The lion is a very common and important symbol in India, and is actually the country’s national emblem. The lion represents strength and power, and representations of it appear in many old palaces, statues and state buildings.

Also, the term Maharawal is simply the word used around here for ‘great king.’ Maha means big, or great, and rawal is the local word for king. The term Maharawal is a variation of the more common Maharaja, which is used in some other places. In Udaipur the term is Maharana, in Bundi they were called Maharao.

I know you were just busting to know all that.

Jaisalmer still has a royal family. A new Maharawal, Chaitanya Raj Singh, had his coronation in 2021, after the death of his father, who is this young chap, pictured on his coronation day in 1982. He became Maharawal at the ripe old age of 15.

Another youngster ruler.

There’s some amazing views from the palace

Some of the stone walls, like this one, are so thin, and others are metres thick

The Maharawals claim they are direct descendants of Krishna, and even have a family tree to prove it. Pretty clever of them, given that Krishna is a God.

Other Rajasthani dynasties claim to be descendants of the sun itself. The actual sun. Sons of the sun. Others say they’re descendants of Vishnu, one of the three primary Hindu Gods, who are Brahma, the creator; Vishnu, the preserver; and Shiva, the destroyer. Well, that’s not all each of them are of course, but one of the many many divine attributes they apparently have.

Beautiful stone sculptures of deities.

This is Rama, a reincarnation of Vishnu, and this sculpture is quite unique because it depicts him with a beard. Beards were big in these parts in those days, especially as the Mughal influence kicked in.

Royal crash zone

The women of the court would sit up here on comfy mattresses with lots of pillows, and watch the world go by way below.

This painting depicts a coronation procession, the statue in front is Gangaur, a fertility goddess.

This is a stone model of the whole fort complex. Even the model is an intricate work of art, and gives you an idea of the incredible complexity and scale of the old city.

It also demonstrates how much Indian tourists love dark pants.

Actual toilet signs.

And here’s a few pics from the royal court, from when the Maharawal and his family still lived here, along with their countless slaves and servants.

Brolly brigade

Military manoeuvring

Hugely overloaded elephant slave

The royal palanquin, and its wrinkled bearers

A Rajput Love Story

This picture depicts a scene from a very well known Rajputi folk tale, the story of Mumal and Mahendra. It’s a wonderful (but predictably tragic) story, and I really want to tell it to you …

So get yourself a cuppa, sit back, and imagine you’re sitting around a fire in the Rajasthani desert, under a huge star-filled sky, and an old woman is sitting nearby, telling everyone this story, one which her grandmother told her when she was just a little girl ….

Once upon a time in the Thar Desert, there was an extremely beautiful Rajput girl called Mumal, whose beauty and charm came to be known throughout the vast desert kingdoms. She was of marrying age, and she wanted to marry, but she didn’t want to marry any old Gam, Deepak or Hari - she wanted someone special, someone who would totally win her heart with his exceptional bravery and intelligence.

So Mumal, who knew she was in high demand around the place, constructed a maze of dangerous physical obstacles around her haveli palace, through which many princes and nobles tried to pass, in order to reach her and ask for her hand in marriage. But they all failed. Obviously they weren’t brave or smart enough.

One day a man called Mahendra, who was the son of a king, was hunting nearby, and he and his party rested on the banks of the river. Mahendra was a Mewari, from the Jaisalmer region, but he’d travelled away from his kingdom and was hunting in Mumal’s adjoining kingdom of Sind, which is now Pakistan.

Mahendra was already married, and had a bunch of wives back at home, all of whom were probably cooking, cleaning and looking after the kids at the time of his hunting expedition.

Actually, no they weren’t, he was a prince, so the slaves did all that stuff, the wives were probably just lazing around eating grapes and getting their henna redone, or getting more piercings through their noses and screaming at their slaves because it hurts.

Mumal saw Mahendra from her high haveli window, and she liked the look of him, so she sent food and water to him and his party. Her messengers also told Mahendra he was welcome to spend the night at her palace, but if he wanted to he’d need to pass through a dangerous labyrinth to get there.

Mahendra had already heard of the famous beauty Mumal, and, in all his greatness, he got through all the dangerous obstacles to her palace completely unscathed. Not a scratch.

This caused Mumal’s heart to start beating like a racing camel’s, and she immediately decided to accept Mahendra as her consort. They spent the night together, up there on the beautiful palace rooftop, under the star-filled desert sky. And I bet they did more than just hold jewelled hands.

Mahendra returned to his palace the next morning, completely smitten, and immediately found himself a strong, reliable and fast camel who could get him over to Mumal’s comfy pad within a few hours. He called his new camel Cheetal.

From then on, every night Mahendra would make the journey across the desert to Mumal’s kingdom, and spend the night with her. Needless to say, he always brought his shiny crown jewels with him. Afterwards he’d speed home on Cheetel and be back in his own bed before dawn, and pretend as if nothing had happened.

After many months passed, Mahendra’s father, the king, became concerned that none of Mahendra’s wives were getting pregnant lately, and he wanted to know what was up (or not up).

Some in the royal court had already gotten wind of Mahendra’s exploits with Mumal, and they told the king exactly what was going on. The king was outraged, but knew he couldn’t just order Mahendra to stop seeing Mumal. He needed to be a bit smarter about it.

So the king ordered that the camel Cheetal’s leg be broken, so Mahendra could no longer get to Mumal’s quickly. Poor Cheetal. He’s the real victim in this tale.

That night Mahendra had no choice but to jump on another, slower camel, Slothal, and he headed off to Mumal’s after dark anyway. Ok ok I made up that camel name myself, but Cheetal’s speedy name is real.

When Mahendra didn’t arrive on time Mumal got bored waiting for him, and decided to play a game with her sister, Sumal. Sumal dressed as a man, and they pranced around the haveli palace, play acting as man and wife.

Still Mahendra didn’t arrive.

Eventually Sumal and Mumal got so tired of waiting for him that they both fell asleep on Mumal’s bed, with Sumal still dressed as a man.

You can guess what happened.

Mahendra turned up, saw Mumal in bed with who he thought was a man, and then left in a complete huff, convinced that she was cheating on him. I’m sure it didn’t occur to him that he himself had been cheating on his umpteen wives every night for the past many months, and that he was actually being a complete hypocrite. And not that anything happened anyway. Mahendra left his riding cane on the side of Mumal’s bed before he left, just to let her know he’d been there.

And he never showed up there ever again.

What a guy.

Mumal, of course, was completely distraught by what had happened, and by Mahendra’s continued absence, and she tried to explain the misunderstanding to him. But Mahendra, hero that he was, refused to even listen to her.

So, in her intense agony, and in order to prove her innocence, Mumal lit a massive bonfire and decided to jump right into the middle of it.

Hmmm. How does that work?

Mahendra, on hearing this was happening, was horrified, and realised he was actually being a complete dick, surprise surprise. He raced to Mumal’s fire, but it was all too little too late.

When he saw his beloved barbecuing away in there Mahendra decided it wasn’t fair that she got to have all the fun, so he jumped right in to join her.

And that was the end of their hot sizzling love affair, it all ended up in smoke.

And that, unfortunately, is where this grisly tale ends.

There’s no magic happy ending.

Sorry, but everything in this story happened well before happy endings were such a thing.

And the morals of the story? Well …

a. Men can be royal wankers sometimes.

b. Self-immolation is for mugs.

c. It’s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for it to stop a stupid king from breaking its leg, and then, the very next day, getting itself eaten in large bowls of spicy camel curry because it was no longer regarded as useful.

Time Travel

History oozes from the walls of this place. As I wander around I can’t help but constantly feel like I’m wandering the stone streets of another age. The ancient buildings, homes, walls, cobblestone paths, and even the drains, the traditional clothing the women, and many men, wear, the old people preparing simple food on their front verandahs or feeding the cows and goats as they wander around, all of it just spirits me away to a completely different world, to a way more simple, slow and ageless era.

More incredible stonework

Shaping metal tools by hand, using a charcoal fire

Making jalebi, a delicious sweet

A great eating place I found, it was always packed with locals

My Rajasthani thali, absolutely top class food. I had a few of these while I was in town.

One of many traditional Rajasthani dress styles. This pic was up in a museum.

The market at the end of the day. Before the nightly cleanup.

Looks like a lot of the rubbish ends up here.

These little ones really have to watch themselves sometimes, this one was close to some pretty dodgy motorbike and rickshaw traffic.

So elaborate

This cutie and her friends chatted with me for awhile. They were completely outgoing and super funny and playful. She eventually asked me to take her pic, and didn’t ask me for rupees, sweets or pens, which the kids normally do.

Another beautiful piece of traditional architecture

It makes sense. You need to share it with your co-men (and women).

The fort’s pretty stunning at night too

And there’s hardly any tourists in there after 8pm

Across The Dusty Plains

So eventually it was time for me to leave the Golden City of Jaisalmer. It was a beautiful place to be for awhile, but my guesthouse was booked out for the weekend, and that gave me the motivation to move on.

So I walked down to the local bus station, jumped on another bus, got stuck on the very back seat again (what is it with me and back seats?), and rattled and bounced my way to my new destination, Jodhpur.

The plains between the two cities were mostly vegetated for the whole distance of about 250km. And, as this is India, and road quality is generally pretty iffy, (and bus quality even iffier), it took nearly 6 hours to cover the distance.

We passed a few towns on the way.

I hope you don’t find these roadside snaps boring. It’s not that there’s anything particularly photo-grabbing in the pics, it’s just the scene. There’s always so much going on, I personally find it so interesting.

These flags are for the Congress Party, the second most popular political party in India, which is led by Rahul Gandhi, the son of Rajiv Gandhi, who was once Prime Minister.

Rajiv himself was the son of India Gandhi, who was also PM before him, until she was assassinated by her Sikh bodyguards in 1984, as revenge for a military action her army carried out inside the Golden Temple in Amritsar, the preeminent of all the Sikh temples anywhere in the world.

And just to complete the picture, India Gandhi was the daughter of the very first PM of India after independence, Jawaharlal Nehru.

India Gandhi’s dynasty is  not related in any way to the most famous Indian Gandhi of all, Mahatma Gandhi, who led India to independence in the first place.

At the last election in 2019, Rahul Gandhi’s Congress Party only won 19% of the vote, with the party of the current PM Narendra Modi, the BJP, getting 31%. Due to the way the electoral system works, the BJP won 303 seats in the Lok Sabha, the Indian parliament, and Congress only 52.

The next federal general election is expected in April or May of next year.

However, there’s an election for the Rajasthan State Legislative Assembly, the Vidhan Sabha, on November 25th, and electioneering here is in full swing for that.

People are hugely involved in the process, there’s political rallies every single day, for various parties. The Congress Party currently rule Rajasthan, they won 108 seats at the last election, compared to the BJP’s 70.

Food wallahs outside our bus. It’s perfect, sometimes they’re there just at the right time, just when you’re hungry and thirsty.

And this is what they were selling. These are mirchibada, large green peppers stuffed with a spicy potato/veg mix, and then soaked in chickpea flour batter and deep fried. A Rajasthani specialty. Bloody delicious. Btw that thing sticking out the bottom is the stem of the pepper.

Mirchi means chilli, and bada (or wada), is just a deep fried snack made of lentil or chickpea flour. Wadas are a common snack everywhere, especially in South India.

The Blue City

By late arvo we finally made it to the outskirts of the large city of Jodhpur, and there just happened to be a small local bus going in my direction.

Google Maps is so bloody handy. Once my local  bus got as close to my guest house district as it looked like it was going to get, I jumped out and strolled the last couple of clicks.

Animal Street

Including a horse-drawn carriage

And really bad parking

Eventually I passed through the ancient walls and entered the old city

More party politicking

I’ve seen a few burqas here already. This city is about 75% Hindu and around 20% Muslim.

Sweet men

Basket ladies

These shops are all over India. The sweets are delicious, and there’s so many varieties on offer. The dark brown squares in the middle are a Rajasthani specialty, gulab halwa, they’re delicious.

These are singoda, water chestnuts, the same ones as I tried in Bundi (the black ones), but these ones aren’t roasted, and tasted a little bitter. They’re great for rehydration, as they hold a lot of water. They’re also sold as powder, dried and ground, and are used as an Ayurvedic medicine which is apparently really good for your bone marrow. Of all things.

I made it to a guest house, this is the manager Raju on the rooftop. He’s really nice, as are all the multitudes of staff there. I’ve promised some of the girls I’ll help them with their English, and they said they’d teach me a bit of Hindi in return.

The view of the Blue City. Def not its bluest part.

View of the fort from another café rooftop.

Nowhere To Go

Awwww, it feels so good to be here, and I wanna stay for awhile.

For so many reasons.

This place is so interesting, and so beautiful.

The people are amazingly friendly, and willing to engage right off the bat, from young kids right through to old grandparents. I’ve been hanging out with the beautiful kids of a family who live across the lane.

I also have so many conversations on the streets during the course of every day. Sometimes people call out and ask me questions. Sometimes I’ll ask someone if I can take a pic, and twenty minutes later I’ll leave them, with chai, sweets and a warm feeling in my belly. So wonderful.

There’s loads of other reasons to stay too.

The food is so good.

I have a comfy, simple room, overlooking the city.

I have hot water! Now that’s a treat.

But, Jai Sri Ram! I do have a deadline of sorts. There’s an amazing festival going on in Pushkar now, the Pushkar Mela. It’s just started, and the climax of the celebrations will be happening over a few days, starting in a week or so. Unusually, I’ve booked myself a little room there, as the place gets totally packed out during the festival.

And I'm not gonna miss it. No way Vijay❤️

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