The next day I
booked a ticket for the tour (guided word is deliberately avoided) of
places around Udaipur. We motley group of people with diverse
languages and even nationalities are waiting for the bus. We have a
very beautiful woman from Spain in our bus. (In fact she is the only
foreigner) She is wearing bangles, bindi and had henna on her hands.
She had come for a friend's wedding in India. She tells me that she
loved chai and Indian people. Good to see that in spite of the recent
untoward incidents towards foreign women they still carry good
impression about India and its people.
The bus arrives and
all of us hop in. The bus is a sleeper bus which plies at the night
time. It is being used during day time for sight-seeing tours to make
more money. I am asked to sit cross-legged on the upper berth. I
refuse. So I am given a lower berth at the last. The upper berth
which I was offered is given to the foreigner. She happily climbs up
and occupies her seat. I have been on many day tours at many places in the country, but no where I was taken around in a sleeper bus. The disadvantage of sleeper bus apart from the fact that
I have to sit cross-legged is that it comes with sliding Formica
partitions. The family sitting on the opposite berth choses to
closely guard their privacy and closes the partition. As a result
while the bus is moving I am refused my right to see as to what is
happening on the other side of the road.
Finally we all have
settled on our seats or in better words resigned to our fate. After
an hour or so the bus stops at the highway. All of us are asked to
get down and visit the temple to the left. We are at Ghasiyar. The
driver doubles up as a guide to tell us about the spots we are
visiting. However he miserably fails as a guide because he does not
tell much apart from the instructions go here and go there.
We climb up the
fleet of steps to visit the temple. On entering the temple, there are wooden steps akin to
those in an amphitheatre where all of us sit. The sanctum is
curtained. The Spanish woman comes from behind. She does not know
what is happening and is apprehensive to come in. She stands in the
corridor. I ask her to come inside and sit, for the darshan will
begin soon. I tell her about the custom whereby the doors of the sanctum
are closed periodically and opened only seven times in a day. This
was the knowledge which I had recently acquired from the Gujarati
family seated next to me. As the driver has not dished out any
instructions I feel that this is the famous temple of Shrinathji at
Nathdwara. Again the Gujrati family adds to my knowledge by telling
me that this is Ghasiyar where Shrinathji had stayed and not
Nathdwara.
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| Sun on the top of the head at Ghasiyar conveying it is 12 pm |
Finally the doors of
the sanctum open and we prostrate before a picture of Srinathji. Yes there is just a picture and not an idol. The
foreigner asks me the name of the god and remarks that you have so many gods.
Our next stop is
haldi ghati. We climb up the hillock at haldi ghati. The mud hardly
appears yellow. There is a museum perched on the hillock. All of us
are asked to wait inside the gates by the cleaner who addresses the
driver as Ustad. We wait there for more than fifteen minutes. Few
members from our bus have already entered the museum. When I enquire
with the cleaner as to where his Ustad is I am being told that he is
having his meals. The Gujarati family comes with a resolution that we
should not wait for him and enter the museum. I second their
resolution and all of us enter the museum.
The museum is akin to a
theatre. We wait in the corridors as the gates of the hall are
closed. Gujarati family is busy clicking pictures against the
backdrop of Maharana's statue. The guard asks them if they possess a
camera ticket. They show their camera tickets and reprimand the
guard for being rude. The gates are opened and we enter a room which
has the haldi ghati model in the middle. There are also swords,
armour, helmets adorned on the walls for display. One voice welcomes
us and asks us to come near the model at the centre. An employee of
the museum tells us the story of haldi ghati by pointing out to the
places by the pointer in his hands. We are told how Maharana's horse
Chetak was disguised as an elephant and how he ran 5 kilometers in
spite of losing his limb.
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| Mural at the entrance of the museum |
Then we make our way
through a small door into a theatre which screens a short animated
film on the great warrior. Thereafter we are on a guided tour of
murals displaying various incidents from the life of the Maharana.
At the exit are the stalls selling delicacies made from the roses,
amla and other local produce. I purchased gulkand and amla chutney. I
must say that the quality of the products is indeed worth admiring.
There is a small pool with paddling boats. Due to the heavy rush of people to
find their ways to the pedal and the micro size of the pool I decided
to give up the thought of boating. The in house restaurant of the
museum offered good food. They offered an unlimited thali for a fair
price. But I had no appetite, so I gave up the idea of having lunch.
Instead I settled for the sugarcane juice which was extracted live in
front of you that too by a real kolu ka bail. Unlike city palace at Udaipur the haldi ghati museum provides worth for the money.
We board the bus
again. As we move forward the cleaner announces to have a from the
window darshan of Rana's horse Chetak's samadhi. But as the bus is
moving and as the view of the other side is hindered by the partition
I hardly get to see it.
We stop by the road
to visit a cave where Rana had stayed. The cave is natural and is
cool. There is a shivlingam near the cave. One Sadhu was meditating
across the dhuni. I banged my head against the roof of the cave. As
I rubbed my scalp, the Sadhu informed us that there is a secret alley
through the cave which leads to Chittorgarh.
Next the bus
navigates through a narrow road which is cut through the mountains.
The cleaner jumps from the bus digs a little gravel from the mountain
wall and hops into the bus again. He shows the lump of the soil
which he has extracted to everyone. It is indeed yellow in colour
just like the turmeric after which the ghati is named as haldi ghati.
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| Samadhis at Rakt Talai |
Now we are at the
battle field. This place is called Rakt Talai. Talai means lake.
Hundreds of soldiers were killed during the famous haldi ghati battle
which took place in the monsoons. The rain water took the blood of
the soldiers with it into the lake. As a result the lake appeared
like a lake of blood. Hence the name Rakht Talai. The water from the
lake dried up long back and people started encroaching on it.
Therefore the government created a garden here. The garden has
samadhis of various ministers who gave up their lives in the
battle.
Our next destination
is Nathdwara. We are dropped on a crowded highway and asked to take a
rickshaw for the temple. The rickshaw drops us at the opening of a
road which is crowded with shops. First come the eateries, then the
shops selling religious paraphernalia more particularly images of
Shrinathji.
The huge doors of the temple are closed. Hundreds of
people are waiting outside the doors. Some are civilized to form a
queue. But they are affecting the sales of the shops as the queue
goes on expanding and hindering the view of the shops. The
shopkeepers keep on telling that there is no need to form any queue.
Yet the queue soars up. There is a separate queue for men and women.
The loud speakers from the temple are appealing to the devotees that
there is no special darshan in the temple. Yet the pandas are
offering devotees lucrative deals which include a direct darshan to a couple, which includes man and a woman, at the same time. The
man standing next to me appears to be interested in the offer. He
negotiates to take two couples at the price of one. There is some
one, I guess his brother, accompanying him. The priest asks for
double the price. The negotiations fail.
The doors open. There is
chaos. The queue is disbursed and everyone rushes to the doors.
There are small children with the men. Many of them are carrying
cradles with baby Krishna in it. The doors are colourful. After
getting inside the temple premises we are again made to stop at a
point. The police man is blocking our way with a rope. After fifteen
minutes we are permitted to go in. The temple has steps like those at
Ghasiyar. The beautiful idol of Shrinathji can be seen even from the
last step. Right now there are only men in the darshan hall. Groups
of men and women are sent into the temple alternatively.
I must say
in spite of all the chaos there is something about Shrinathji which
stays with you. The exit for men is from another door which opens
into another lane. Through bare feet I tramp through the ugliest
lanes of Nathdwara. Though in Rajasthan Nathdwara appears to be in Gujarat. There are Gujaratis everywhere. The display boards are in
Gujarati, hotels are offering Gujarati menu, the tour operators are offering buses for Ahmadabad and of
course the people are speaking in Gujarati. I take a rickshaw to the
spot where my bus was supposed to park and get into the bus. Unlike
yesterday's Udaipur's weather it is terribly hot at Nathdwara. Soon
all the members turn up and the bus proceeds for the next destination
which is Eklingji.
Eklingji is a
beautiful temple complex. The rock cut temple has exquisite carvings.
Undoubtedly Eklingji is one of the masterpieces of Indian temple
architecture. There is a group of men and women reciting bhajan in
the sanctum. The sanctum is cooler compared to the hot air outside.
There is a queue in the sanctum. Standing in the queue I appreciate
the beauty of this ancient temple. There is floor above the sanctum.
Its balconies open into the sanctum of the temple. The queue moves
quickly and I am in front of the Lord. Smell of flowers mixed with
incense, so typical to the ancient temples, fills in my lungs. The
panda hands over to me a fragrant garland as prasad. It is worth
mentioning here that I have not offered a single paisa or any thing
in kind. Indeed there are very few temples like Eklingji in India.
The bus drops me
back to Udaipur. I must say unlike the Udaipur tour, I have throughly
enjoyed this trip. This trip was a revelation. Travel is as much
about people as it is about scenic surroundings, ancient monuments
and shopping. I can never enjoy a travel when its most important
ingredient – people is missing.
