Some 145 kilometres north-east of Jodhpur, translated to a three-hour car ride away, is Nagaur. Tourists are few and far between here. The most you may come across are a handful in a whole day. They are the ones who decide to do a pit-stop in Nagaur en-route from Jaipur or Pushkar to Bikaner.
Yet, its treasures are no less majestic and larger than life than any other city in Rajasthan. And maybe, because of it being off the tourist radar, it is that much more appealing.
Nagaur, the sleepy, quiet town on the ancient trade routes linking Gujarat, Sindh and Multan, is named after the Nagavanshi kings who ruled this area from the 4th to 7th centuries. Nagavanshis claimed descent from Nagas, a semi-divine race of part-serpent part-human beings who resided in the underworld.
It was crucial for Nagaur’s rulers to defend their trading hub since the town was surrounded by miles of flat ground. The Nagavanshis, followed by the Chauhans, Muslims, and from the 18th Century onward, the Rathore Rajputs all built and rebuilt the city’s most impressive and prominent landmark: the Nagaur Fort or Ahhichatragarh meaning the Fort of the Hooded Cobra. Continue reading →
Rose essence from Hinduism’s holy city of Pushkar fills the air of Sufi Islam’s sacred dargah in Ajmer. The courtyard reverberates with qawwalis in praise of the 13th Century saint from Iran, as the faithful shuffle past his grave in deep reverence, heads bowed, eyes lowered, a prayer or two on their lips.
It is 9ish in the morning and I am at the Khwaja Moinuddin Chishti Dargah deep in the heart of Ajmer’s Muslim quarter. As far back as I can remember, I had wanted to visit the tomb-shrine. Now actually standing here, it feels unreal. Surreal.
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Just 15 kilometres from Pushkar, separated by Nag Pahar an ancient hill in the Aravalli range, is Ajmer—Pushkar’s antithesis. Continue reading →
The entire 615 steps carved into the rock’s gleaming surface rose straight above me. No left or right turns. Just straight up, with a rudimentary metal rod for support along its length. Some of the steps were shallow, others steep. All equally worn out under the bare feet of countless pilgrims and travellers over a thousand years. The steps themselves were just as bare under the scorching sun, minus any shade whatsoever.
Only one spiritually legitimate way exists to reach the 58-feet-8-inch-high naked granite monolith of Bahubali Gommateshwara, the inimitable deity-hero in Jainism perched on top of the sacred Vindhyagiri Hill in Shravanabelagola. It is by climbing up these steps.
Though another flight of steps winds its way up on the western side of the 470-feet-high hill, this is the original path cut into the rock by Chavundaraya, a Ganga dynasty minister and commander way back in 981 AD. And by now you know me. It had to be the original path for me. 😀
It was 1 in the afternoon when I reached the minuscule town of Shravanabelagola after exploring the Hoysala temple at Somanathapur. My plan was to use one of the palanquins I had read about to reach the top. But do plans ever go as planned? Continue reading →