Rajasthan: Sand Dunes of Khuri
Travelling in Rajasthan in February 2008
Jaipur >> Shekhawati >> Pushkar >> Jaisalmer >> Jodhpur
+ Previous: Badal Singh and Khuri Village
At Khuri’s sand dunees, a bunch of camel drivers coax me into going on a ride with them. But I want to walk, feel the soft sand and let my feet sink into it. I want to look back and see my footprints disturbing the virgin sand. I would like to sit on the sand, spray the fine dust with my hands and watch the wind blow it away gently. I would like to spend the evening quietly in a far away corner undisturbed, and watch the sky getting painted orange by the sun as he takes leave for the day.
But as I climb up one of the tall dunes, the sinking feet made me wish I had large hooves like a camel that would let me walk with ease. These ungulates effortlessly stride on the dunes with the same ease as we walk on solid ground. And they seem to take the slopes with little effort, carrying two men up on their back. The sand-walk is a definite pleasure for a newbie that I am, but long walks on this sinking ground would be hard without the aid of these ships of the desert.
Sunset on the dunes..
Khuri’s dunes are a good fifty feet high, long and narrow, with many dunes spreading parallel to each other. Shrubs scatter along the depressions between the dunes where birds gather, hopping from one bush to other looking for the last feed of the day. This place has a surprisingly good bird life for its arid landscape. Chirpy sparrows flock small trees near villages, while Desert Wheatears and White Cheeked Bulbuls are common farther into the desert.
Up on the ridge of a dune, I spot a crowd of tourists gathered to the west in a small shelter popularly called the ‘sunset point’. I head in the opposite direction in search of a quiet place – not hard to find one in these vast sand dunes. It is an hour to go before sun down, giving me time to walk on the yellow expanse of small striations and large undulations. At the hour of sunset, the bright ball changes into orange and eventually red, painting the sand-scape into a golden yellow ocean of tall waves.
White Cheeked Bulbul
Cold wind takes over as the sun goes down, forcing me to cover up with warm clothes and beat a retreat to the village sooner than I wished to. Back at Badal House, the evening is spent listening to the stories of a French Couple who are just back from spending two days in the desert. The excited portrayal of star studded skies, lonely landscapes and bumpy camel rides make me look forward to my day in the open.
The dinner that night is in Badal’s kitchen. We listen to his stories of the desert as we devour on Bajra Rotis freshly cooked in wood fire by his wife. Badal tells us how much the Bajra Rotis have become an essential part of their diet. One of his guests had taken Badal to Udaipur, where he was treated for a plush dinner at the Lake Palace. But he was just not at home with the luxurious food, and came out eating something that still left him hungry. He later fixed his hunger by buying groundnuts off the street, and wished he could have some Bajra Rotis.
The cold evening did not let me linger outside for long after dinner. I cuddled under the rajai with a book, looking forward to my day out in the desert next day.
To be continued..