Travelling in Rajasthan in February 2008
Jaipur >> Shekhawati >> Pushkar >> Jaisalmer >> Jodhpur
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+ Next: Pushkar to Jaisalmer
At 6.30 in the morning, a thin fog blocked the February sun and I shivered from the cold of the winter. A chai shop on the street came as a blessing. The lanes around the Pushkar lake were very quiet but for a few people gathered around tea shops. The ghats were deserted. I walked aimlessly, questioning my wisdom in waking up so early in the cold when everyone else would have been snugly snoring from under their blankets.
A small group of langoors (black monkeys) sat on the balcony of a garishly painted old building. Obviously uncomfortable in the cold morning, they were huddled closely, trying to stay warm. The young ones were best positioned and most comfortable, staying warm almost completely covered in middle of protective adults.
The group was just trying to wake up, half asleep and half awake, unwilling to give up their comfortable huddle. Once in a while they opened their eyes, looked around with disinterest and closed the eyes again, returning to their early morning dreams. As I stood below and watched and occasionally pointed my long lens at them, a few grew curious and cast a glance at me, but never gave me too much importance. A youngling was especially curious and peered at me time and again to see what am I up to.
A little later that day when the sun just began shining and his warmth was pleasant and desirable, I stopped by for another cup of tea. An elderly baba was seated quietly just besides the chai shop. I bought him a cup of tea and started a conversation.
At some point of time I asked him if I can take his pictures. The genial man consented without any hesitation. But when I aimed the camera at him, he suddenly stopped me, and started adjusting his headgear and getting ready to pose. But I was looking for his natural self and not a posed image. Before he could get himself to pose for me, I kept shooting him as he adjusted the turban, trying to get some candid frames. I only wish I could catch on camera, his approving nod when I showed him the images.
Continued at Pushkar to Jaisalmer
Travelling in Rajasthan in February 2008
Jaipur >> Shekhawati >> Pushkar >> Jaisalmer >> Jodhpur
+ Continued from Pushkar I
+ Next post in the series: Encounters from Pushkar
While the pigeons flocked the lakeshore, people gathered on the lanes surrounding the lake. Coming round the lakes several times, I saw backpackers in large loads ambling along the streets. The question that came to me is – ‘why?’ Most of the tourists I saw walked in to see the lake, looked to their left and right for a moment, spoke a few sentences to their associates and walked away without knowing what to do next. And yet, they keep coming in more numbers.
Unlike Varanasi, where the fleeting tourists can be occupied by a boat ride, a session of chasing the pilgrims with camera or long walks in the ghats, Pushkar doesn’t have a list of ‘things to do’ for the tourist. There are no standard tourist trails but for the path to circumambulate of the lake, which can be completed in an hour or two. Photographers are not welcome at the lake, and even getting closer to the lake requires one to remove footwear. Unlike at the time of the famed Pushkar Camel Fair where large gathering of the local population and the camels attract tourists and photographers alike, there is nothing here for the normal tourist who arrives on a normal day, unless one has serious interests in culture or is religious by nature. But having arrived, most people spend their time hanging out in cafes, browsing in internet centers or shopping in numerous establishments selling trinkets, cheap jewelery, colorful clothings and Rajasthani arts, and leave for their next destination quickly. And they spread they word, talking about the ‘spiritual and cultural experiences’ of Pushkar on their weblogs, which seem like more than empty words.
A baba poses for my camera
As I walked past the trinket shops and Italian restaurants, I made an attempt to imagine a Pushkar many decades ago when it was not on the backpacker’s highway. Hundreds of temples would have dotted the lanes as they still do, with quiet an atmosphere that complemented the temples. The lines of guesthouses all along would have been small houses of people who lived off the temples or worked in the fields watered by the lake. The lake itself would not have to be a stiff place where warning signs encounter people every second, constantly reminding what one mustn’t do and the rules one must obey. Temple bells would ring continuously in one corner or other as pilgrims walked past them visiting one after other. Only the pigeons, supported by corns splattered by genial pilgrims would not have changed much.
Walking along the ghats on an evening, I struck conversation with an elderly priest sitting quietly in a corner. “The first of the Brahmins originated from Pushkar,” he told me, “the Brahmins of Pushkar are the most superior of all.” He told me on the importance of Pushkar on Hindu mythology, of the place where Brahma meditated, and pointed to the Brahma temple at the far end of the lake. Besides the holy lake and the camel fair, Pushkar’s next claim to fame is this temple – the only place where Lord Brahma is worshiped.
Brahma Temple
The next morning, I walked into the temple where I was stopped by a policeman who asked me to leave my bag behind before I entered in. With no cloakrooms available, I left it in supervision of a vendor who sold pooja paraphernalia, and bought a pack of prasad just to return the favour. Its a small temple without much activity or large crowds, and most of the temple’s structure today is built in the recent years, giving out no hint of the past of this ancient temple.
I whiled away my time in Pushkar sitting and meditating on the lake shore, watching pilgrims perform pooja and taking a dip in the holy lake or envying the pigeons that had an easy life. Walking on the streets, I kept an eye for local delicacies that could be found only in narrow lanes jutting out of the main circumambulation path where restaurants for backpackers haven’t taken over yet. Spicy Aloo Tikkis sold on the carts, chai shops that brewed strong milky tea, and Sugary Malpua prepared with ‘Shuddh desi ghee’ in sweet shops kept my taste buds working.
Chai time..
Malpua and pigeons, not the cultural or spiritual sokaing remained the highlights of my stay at Pushkar. As I checked out from the hotel and headed to the bus stop with my backback on the shoulder, I walked without the apprehension I had arrived here with.
Pushkar Information
Pushkar is a small town known for its annual camel fair when a large number of locals descend here to buy and sell camels. The renowned events attracts visitors and photographers from all over the world. A small lake around which the town is built, is one of the holiest places of pilgrimage for Hindus. The town boasts of only temple from Brahma that is known to exist. Even if you are not pious, the ghats around the lake, pilgrims on the shore and many small temples make the place interesting to visit.
Food and Accommodation. There are many inexpensive guesthouses and hotels that surround the lake. Accommodation is easy to find except during the fare, when advance booking is required and the tariffs are known to go up by as much as ten times. Though most places serve continental, Italian and Israeli food besides the Indian fare, a few small places spread around Brahma Temple serve traditional Indian food.
To be continued..
Travelling in Rajasthan in February 2008
Jaipur >> Shekhawati >> Pushkar >> Jaisalmer >> Jodhpur
+ Previous: Rajasthan: About Shekhawati
+ Next: Pushkar – II”
I got down from the bus and hesitantly walked on Pushkar’s main street. Uneasiness showed on my face; I would have looked like someone who has made a mistake and lurking around cautiously, trying not to be seen. The big backpack I carried easily gave me away to the touts who would want to make friends and assist me to the best tourist services in town. Having had to tread past many of them with some difficulty in Jaipur only last week, I was being careful, trying to slip off as quietly as possible.
It turned out I did not have to bother. No one gave me a second look, let alone offering me ‘cheap rooms’. In fact walking for a few minutes scanning through hotels and guesthouses, I was alarmed to see no one approaching me, and wondered for a moment if they are all full.
The place I checked into that day was aptly named White House. Leave the namesake that is more plush well known; this one was freshly whitewashed, sparkling clean, and most important – inexpensive. The owner sort of knew how to speak to the backpacking public and keep them happy. Sort of, because he said the right things and often kept a conversation, but I could see it all did not come naturally. He built up a cheerful face and worked his ‘how are you doing today?’, ‘are you having a good time?’ and ‘do you like Pushkar?’ each time I passed past reception. I could see, over the years, he would have got better at.
I was anxious for my first sight of the lake when I took off from the guesthouse next morning. Walking through long line of shops and backpacker facilities that crowd the lanes circling the lake, I was greeted with prominent signs installed by the police and the priests of Pushkar, telling the visitors to ‘behave’ when they are here. The signs from police warn about petty crime, and tell people to stay away from drugs while the priests warn tourists to dress conservatively and not to take pictures near the lake.
Stepping into the periphery of the lake, I immediately draw parallels to Varanasi. There are ghats all along the shore – series of steps leading into the lake facilitating pilgrims to walk down for a holy dip. The dark waters of the lake appear no different from the sewer like waters of Ganges in Varanasi. But it is much less crowded and is largely free, but for a few people taking a dip in the water as instructed by their priests, or sitting on the lakeshore performing pooja. The lake is surrounded by temples, some of them just small enough to have a shrine and a few more with some worshiping space, but none very large and spacious. ‘Photography Prohibited,’ say signs splattered all over the walls surrounding the lake, which I am perfectly fine with, but another sign that tells me to remove footwear 30 feet before approaching the lake, keeps me from getting closer for some time.
What stands out on the ghats of Pushkar, unlike Varanasi, are pigeons that hangout in large numbers looking out for amiable people who keep them well fed with corn, wheat and rice. A flutter of pigeons greet me at the lake shore as soon as I walk in. They are in such strong numbers, they create momentary local currents of wind as they take off together. From my journal:
Pigeons are the dominant sight of the ghats, occasionally covering every inch of some of the ghats where they are frequently fed with corns. Sometimes they stand in long lines along the steps of the ghat, all of them facing the lake in such orderly fashion that they look like school boys assembled in an amphitheater, waiting for orders from an instructor. When people pass by, or when someone throws a handful of corn, they take off in such large numbers that the sudden sound caused by the flutter can startle someone unaware. Sitting a good twenty meters away from them, I can feel the wind from their wings as they fly away.
On a quiet hour on the ghats, I hear some sudden commotion as the pigeons suddenly take off at a distance. A dog has caught one of the unfortunate pigeons and a bunch of people are chasing the dog and trying to get the pigeon out from it. This is a holy place and the dog can’t have its way. But once it is gone, pigeons carry on with their business as usual but a few people continue talking about the incidence for some time.
Along the lake are a few vendors who sold corn by the kilo to people who want to feed the pigeons. Next morning, I bought a kilo, piled it next to the pigeons on the ghats and watched them go for it. They rushed in immediately, some flying and some running into the pile, the flying ones often landing over the ones running. I timed the attack as I watched them eat – it took less than a minute for the entire pile to disappear.
Continued at Pushkar – II