Musings of a Wandering Mind

Rajasthan: Khuri, Jaisalmer: Desert Safari and Camping Journal

Travelling in Rajasthan in February 2008
Jaipur >> Shekhawati >> Pushkar >> Jaisalmer >> Jodhpur
+ Previous: Sand dunes of Khuri
+ Next: Images of Sam Sand Dunes

I am going to be out in the desert this evening riding on Badal’s camel Sayya, with camel driver Ratan, to spend a night in the open. Ratan is friendly, mellow and talkative and goes well with me, but camel Sayya is young and slightly scared of strangers. Badal has told me that Sayya is inexperienced and hasn’t gone out much on a safari; but there are no other camels available today.

Sayya, the camel

Sayya grunts every now and then while I am sitting on him, conveying a message that he is not too happy carrying me around. The feeling is mutual – I am not too comfortable sitting up here. He is jumpy, and doesn’t have the gentleness that comes with age and experience. But Ratan is there to build confidence in me and coax Sayya to behave. We are on the way soon – Ratan and his two uneasy followers.

We walk through the village, past small huts surrounded by stout compound walls of mud, a few shops, and finally a well at the edge of the village. A bunch of chattering women are drawing water from the well. Ratan talks to one of them in a voice that seems more like a tone meant for broadcasting, and gets her to help fill water into his can. It must be five liters of water at the max, and is going to do for cooking and washing for the night. The ‘tourist’ that I am now, Badal has given me bottles of mineral water to drink, which is safely tucked away somewhere on the back of the Sayya.

Ratan walks ahead of the camel, with a thick rope in his hand, other end pf ot tied to Sayya’s nose. The day’s agenda – walk on the sand dunes till the hour of sunset, end the day at the best vista point, cook dinner on the top of a dune and lie down on the dunes under the stars. No major camping gear, but enough rajais to keep the cold out.

Ratan talks a lot. Besides his usual chatter, he knows what the tourists are looking for, and what to tell someone who is not from here. He promises to take me through best dunes and the best vistas. And he does live up to that promise. “Are you having a good time?” he turns around and asks me every now and then, and I happily nod each time, assuring him that I am enjoying the view and am safe and comfortable. Safe I am, but comfortable, not at all. Sitting on the camel’s back can be like being on the last seat of a bus driven on terrible roads by a merciless driver. Over that, if I move even slightly and try to change my seating position, Sayya doesn’t understand what is happening, gets startled and jumps, and startles me in turn. It takes a while to get used to all of it, but once I do, the discomfort is left behind and the desert’s drama opens up into my eyes.

A Desert Wheatear

The desert here is not just about undulating landscapes. We are walking on the edge of Desert National Park, and there is some wildlife to see. Blackbucks are plentiful, but Ratan can’t recall the English name of these antelopes when he gives his commentary. “You know that animal that Salman Khan had shot dead?” he tell me, “this is the one.” He shows me footprints of the elusive Desert Foxes. There is not much else in terms of large mammals, but the desert is teeming with more life. A large raptor that Ratan showed me went unidentified. White cheeked bulbuls and desert wheatears hung around small bushes. Around these bushes are dark rabbit holes, but no rabbits seen anywhere.

Black bucks

We come across a small herd of casually grazing female camels halfway through the journey. “Oontniyon ka jhund,” Ratan exclaimed – “a herd of female camels – they always stay together, eat together and go around together.” Unlike male camels, which get used for all the hard work like serving the tourists or lugging luggage on carts, females roam free in the desert, living an unhindered life. They usually form small, sometimes large, groups and stick within them.

What could happen when a man walks into an island full of women? As Sayya walked towards the herd, there is a small commotion. Some camels stopped grazing, lifted their heads high and ogled at Sayya, and then looked at each other. They know – just one of them would have a chance to strike with Sayya, and there is plenty of competition around. In that moment, all the grace of fairer sex and subtleties of courting were forgotten. They impulsively started running towards Sayya, as if ready to attack! They might have excited Sayya, but they got me worried sick. What if the young blood in Sayya makes him forget his duties and run behind one of them? He might just shrug me off from his back and run away any moment.

Sayya slowed down a bit, and for a moment seemed confused. He must be contemplating between job security and momentary pleasures.

It is Ratan’s experienced hands that came to the rescue and cleared the situation. He was not surprised or taken aback, but seemed to have seen this coming. He held Sayya’s ropes firmly in one hand, took a few sticks in the other and pelted them at the approaching herd(or approaching storm, as it seemed to me!). After a couple of sticks thrown at them backed up by some shouting, the women seemed to get the message. They slowed down, contemplated for a second, and decided to move away from us. I heaved a sigh of relief, but not without having felt guilty about denying Sayya a good time with the girls. I am sure Sayya would have cursed us and will never forgive Ratan for his deeds.

Sand dunes of Khuri

The journey further is less eventful but takes me through the beautiful sand dunes, vast stretch of empty and barren landscapes dotted with shrubs, and sightings of black bucks breaking into a sprint on our approach. Ratan tells me he shall take me to the best location to see the sunset and to camp for the night. When we do arrive there, I see that it is indeed the best place – the highest point around with a far stretching visibility of the dunes all around. The sunset is a repeat of previous days drama at Khuri, with the sand acquiring a golden tinge as the orange blob sinks at the horizon.

Fortunately it is not as cold as it was yesterday. We make a campfire and Ratan gets down to making dinner. I spend time gallivanting on the dunes enjoying the silence of the evening, and later chattering with Ratan as he prepared the dough. He tells me about life in the village, and I tell him stories from my journeys in Rajasthan and rest of the country. He has never been very far from his village, and is excited to hear about high mountains, snow, and the vast seas, and listens with wonder. It is hard for him to believe about the dense evergreen forests and tall trees that grow in our National Parks elsewhere.

Dinner that night is made of Rice, Dal and Bhati, with a cup of tea served before and after. Bhati is a local dish – wheat balls cooked directly in wood fire. “Tastes good,” I tell Ratan, and he is happy.

Ratan wants to continue the conversation after food. The stars are now out in large numbers, and I want to lie down and stare at the sparklers in the sky instead of chattering. He understands and goes silent. Within minutes, I hear him breath deeply in sleep. A moment later, that is gone too.

The campfire is now put off, and there are no lights and no activity anywhere nearby. It is just me with stars high above to keep me company for the night. As I stare at them for a long time before drifting into sleep, I wonder at the expanse of the universe, and the smallness that we are in this endlessness.

I woke up next morning a little before 6am to be sure not to miss the sunrise on the desert. It is a chill morning and I have no intent to get out of my rajai. I keep my head peeping out and wait for the sun to appear on the horizon. Before dawn, the sky is perfectly clear and a few bright stars are still shining. But the sun is missing and I wait for a few minutes before retracting my head into the rajai to escape the chill, like a tortoise in need of protection. Every ten minutes I lookout again to see if the sun is up, but he is not to be seen for a long time. Has he gone on a vacation today? It could not be. It took some wondering and thinking for me to realize and I am much far north from equator from my home, and the days are a lot shorter in winter. Add to that, we were in the eastern edge of the country where the cycle of the day has a lag from Indian Standard Time. The scientist in me was obviously working, but was still booting up in the cold morning!

It is nearly 7.30am when the sun finally arrives. Sunset and sunrise are a short affair in the desert – when he finally comes up, he rises swiftly into a burning bright ball and drives away the cold of the night. Activity begins soon in the desert, with chirping of the birds and call of a black buck somewhere far away.

On the dunes, the undisturbed night coupled with a thin layer of dew on the sand has left marks and footprints of every possible creature that has moved on it. A few foxes and blackbucks have wandered not too far from where we had stayed for the night. Even small insects that have made a slow journey across the dune have left their mark, allowing me to follow their course and trace their location. Sayya too, has wandered off in search of food, but it is not hard to find where he is. Within less than an hour, we are heading back to Khuri, now confidently riding on Sayya and refreshed after a night of being in the nature.

Continued at Sam Sand Dunes

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..