Out In The Blue 2

Mehrangarh Fort and Palace

So, from the cobblestone track right behind my guesthouse, I could walk steeply up the hill to another of the magnificent Rajasthani fort palaces.

There were so many of these cute squirrels hanging out on the wall.

The magnificent fort towering above the hill.

Entrance gate and fresco

The holes in this bastion are from cannon balls fired at the fortress by the Jaipur army in the early 1800s.

Once inside the fort complex, it’s still a long way to get to the main palace area.

This guy was playing an incredible stringed instrument called a ravanahatha, which literally means ‘Ravana’s hands.’ (Ravana was the mythical evil king in the Ramayana who disguised himself as a sadhu and kidnapped Sita).

The musical instrument has an incredibly haunting sound, because the sound travels through the middle of the silver neck, and finally emerges through the hole in the top, creating a sort of natural reverb effect.

Notice that the curved bow also has a separate string with bells on it at the top right, so the player can actually play an extra bell rhythm separate from the melody, by moving the bow quickly back and forth. Great idea.

This instrument, and others like it, are assumed to be the precursors of stringed instruments which appeared later, like the violin.

The first part of the fortress of Mehranghar was constructed by the builders of Rajput ruler Rao Jodha, who was the head of the Rathore clan. Hence the name Jodhpur. By the way, rao was the term for king, before the term raj, and then later, maharaja, came into use.

Rao Jodha was pretty successful on the battlefield. He captured a lot of territory from the Delhi Sultanate, and created a kingdom which came to be known as Marwar. The old capital, Mandore, soon outlived its purpose, so Rao Jodha decided to start a new one at Jodhpur, which was on the lucrative trade route between Delhi and Gujarat. This allowed the new city to flourish, on the back of the trade in opium, copper, silk, sandalwood and other highly prized goods.

At the time, noone lived on the intended site for the new fort except for a hermit, who refused to leave the hilltop. Jodha tried to convince him to go, but he wouldn’t. Jodha then got a priest higher up the spiritual pecking order to force the hermit to leave, but the hermit was pissed, and cursed the site, so it had a permanent scarcity of water.

To help the new fort and palace prosper, Jodha’s soldiers executed and buried a man of the Meghwal caste in the foundations of the new palace. The guy had actually volunteered for the auspicious job, and his reward was that his family were granted generous land holdings that they hold to this day, apparently. What a guy.

The auspicious sacrifice must’ve worked. The fort was never ever successfully taken by an invader. When the powerful Mughal king Akbar lay siege to the fort, which they, realistically, eventually may have taken, the Rajput rulers did deals with him, allowing him certain tributes and rights of passage, whilst maintaining their own autonomous internal rule.

The spikes on the gates were built to deter elephant ramming.

Whenever the maharaja or any of the noblemen died, their wives were expected to commit suicide (sati), by throwing themselves on the funeral pyres of their husbands (or on separate pyres). To maintain honour for themselves and for their families, they were expected to sizzle away in there without uttering a sound.

Really makes you wanna marry a rich guy, doesn’t it. Not that they had a choice in those days. In those days?

Before they died, the widows would leave a ceremonial handprint, which was then displayed at the gates, to publicly display their family’s honour.

As usual, the stonework here is unbelievably intricate and exquisite. I can stare at these beautiful buildings for ages. Wherever I look there’s another piece of artistic or architectural brilliance to enjoy. It’s so magnificent to see it with your own bungeyes.

Howdah hell dey make dis?

Fancy palanquins for fancy royal parades and festivals.

Loads of lions around, as usual.

The palanquins for the royal males were open to the skies, and to the eyes of the citizens.

But for the women and girls of the royal court, they were all closed up, as women were not allowed to be seen at all in public, a practice which was brought to the region by the Muslim Mughals.

Opium paraphernalia. Opium was common for certain special occasions and festivals in the region, and not just for people in the royal court. I guess it was sorta like the historical equivalent of having a coupla slabs on Australia Day.

The opium was placed in the top of the pouch, water was poured in, and then squeezed through the opium, and the opium-filtered was water collected in the wooden trays below, and then drunk.

The huqqa, or hookah, on the right wasn’t used for smoking opium, only for spiced tobacco. Just like it still is.

The whole complex, and Rajasthani architecture in general, is built around the concept of the courtyard. Whole sets of buildings were designed to display magnificent facades around the edges of the courtyards. In Mehranghar there are a large number of these beautiful courtyard areas, each surrounded by exquisite sculptured buildings.

A more recently built palanquin, carved in a Gujarati and Rajasthani style

More beautifully artistic killing devices

Shield covered in carved leather, and embossed with precious stones

Extravagant carved ivory royal make-up chest

An ancient carved huqqa. The cone for the spiced tobacco is at the top, which is called the chillam. Once lit, the hot smoke is then cooled through a chamber of scented water, and then sucked up through the flexible pipe. Nice, if you like it.

Ivory train models

Huge spring-release gate padlock, which needed an elaborate key to unlock.

Another ancient padlock, not hugely unlike the one I bought the other day for my room. Often guesthouses around here don’t rush to provide you with a padlock, so I carry my own now. Not that I’m particularly worried about theft around here, but you never know …

Statue of the goddess Gangaur, a reincarnation of Shiva’s wife Parvati. Gangaur is worshipped by women, to pray for longevity for their husbands (not for themselves), for their own fertility, and, if they’re unmarried,  help to find a good hubby.

Ancient miniature painting

Some of the rooms in the inner palace are exquisite, ax usual.

View of the ramparts and some of the old city walls

Royal cradle

The female part of the palace, or zenana. This is sort of like the Rajasthani version of the harem. The word zenana simply means ‘womanly’ in Persian.

The zenana was separate from other sections of the palace, and the attendants were exclusively either women or eunuchs. Same sex attraction didn’t exist in those days of course. That only exists today because leftwing deviants are corrupting our poor gullible heterosexual children in schools.

According to the Murdoch press, that is.

The architects didn’t hold back in this part of the palace, I’m telling you. The carvings are magnificent everywhere.

There’s extensive gardens up there too.

Kites were gliding the thermals in the mid afternoon. Of the avian variety, of course.

I just love medieval castles! There should be more of them.

Oh, it’s too late.

Spanish Marco was saying to me that it’s incredible that no one anywhere in the world really builds stuff like this anymore. I was thinking exactly the same thing.

I mean, there’s the brand new and incredibly chic sheik palaces in Saudi Arabia and Dubai, or Putin’s little billion-dollar shack on the Black Sea.

But the detail and intricacy of the stonework here could never be replicated on the same scale anymore. Not at a doable price, that is. Even the billionaires would squander big chunks of their entire fortunes trying.

Über an Uber

Lookin’ more blue-ish from this angle

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Go to Part 3