India travel | Travel Thru History

Fort Kumbhalgarh, With Its Amazing Wall

Rajsamand, Rajasthan, India

by Anuradha Shankar

We can scarcely believe that we are in the heart of the Indian desert – Rajasthan. It is so green and lush, the roads lined with sugarcane fields. Even the approaching mountains appear green all over. Our driver tells us that this is the only fertile area of Rajasthan, and this year the rains have been plentiful.

“You are lucky to see this face of this state!” he exclaims.

We are on our way to Kumbhalgarh, one of the lesser known forts in the Rajasmand district of Rajasthan. The main attraction is the wall of this fort, which extended over 36 kilometers, the second longest after the Great Wall of China.

As the mountains come closer, it becomes apparent why the kings built a fort here. The area is wild and still retains the forest cover. It’s so remote that as soon as you enter the mountain ranges, there is no mobile network. What could be a better way to escape into the past?

Rana Kumbha, the Rajput king who ruled Mewar between AD 1433 and 1468, built this fort to protect his family against the invading Mughals. Situated at a height of 1900 meters, it is the highest fort in Rajasthan. The fort is hardly visible until we are almost at the gates, an effective choice of location for a fort meant for hiding.

The 36 kms long wall surrounding Kumbhalgarh was built over a period of ten years, and is a marvel of engineering. The ramparts are broad enough for four horses to walk on, side-by-side, and tall enough to impede people from climbing them. The outer side of the wall is smooth, while the inner side has steps at regular intervals. While the fort has been largely neglected over the years, the walls have stood the test of time well, strong till this day.

Kumbhalgarh: History and Legend

This was not the first bastion to be built at this place, for it was the original choice of the Jain king, Samprati in the second century, a scion of the Maurya Dynasty. A deeply religious ruler, he built about 300 temples dedicated to Jain gods all over his fort. After him, the fort fell into disrepair, and was inhabited only by a few of the locals. Years passed and finally Rana Kumbha arrived, looking for a suitable place to build his fort. He hesitated to build at the location which was so deep rooted in Jainism, choosing instead, a location a little lower. Although it was built more for safety than for comfort, it is its construction and its architecture which are the most interesting things about the fort and palace of Kumbhalgarh. The palace commands a great view of the surrounding villages and the temples inside the fort. Most important of all, the walls of the fort which meander over the grassy hills, appear here and disappear there.

It is here that history and legend mix, for the story goes that every morning the workers would start the work, only for the structure to crumble by the next morning. This went on for about 15 days, after which the king did what most Hindus do till today – consult his his spiritual preceptor. The guru informed him that the deities governing the location required a voluntary human sacrifice in order to be appeased. The king sent out word, but, as can be expected, no one volunteered. He again turned to his guru, who said that there was only way out – he himself would volunteer, but the king must agree to everything he said, without any discussion. The king agreed, and set out with the guru. The guru instructed the king that he was to be beheaded at the location he would indicate, and the king was to build the first gate of the fort at that point. Moreover, he ordered that the king’s palace was to be built at the place the guru’s body would fall. The king and the guru walked up the mountain till they reached the ruins of the ancient fort. There, the guru asked to be beheaded, which the king did with great reluctance. But imagine the surprise of all present, when the headless body walked on further up the hill, right to the summit, where it finally fell to the ground!

Today, the main gate stands at the location where the guru’s head fell, the exact spot marked by a small temple. The palace stands right at the summit, providing a bird’s eye view of the whole countryside. The guru’s sacrifice was not in vain, for the king lived safely in the fort for a long time, and many of his grandchildren were born there. In fact, the most famous of his grandchildren, Maharana Pratap, who attained an eminence even greater than his grandfather, was born in this palace. There is a plaque commemorating him at the entrance to the palace.

Rana Kumbha was a secular king, who renovated all the 300 temples of Jains within the fort, and also built 60 more temples of Hindu gods within the walls. At the peak of his reign, it is said that the bells of all the 360 temples tolled as one, and were heard in the far off villages, where people stopped their work to pay obeisance to the lord who gave them such a tolerant king.

Of all these temples, the one closest to the heart of the ruler was the Neelkanth Mahadeo Temple, a temple dedicated to lord Shiva, his patron deity. The six foot high stone Lingam (the symbol of Shiva) is the only deity in the area still being worshiped and maintained by the locals. We are fascinated by the height of the lingam, but even more fascinated by the legend that Rana Kumbha was said to be so tall that as he sat for his prayers on the floor of the temple, his eyes were on level with the deity! It is said that the king was about 9 feet tall. He never began a day without performing prayers to this deity himself. What an irony that he was beheaded by his own son, as he prayed.

The king was a good ruler and there are numerous stories of his greatness and generosity. It is said that every evening at sunset, a massive lamp would be lit in a special place right at the summit, with 100 kilograms of cotton and 50 kg of ghee (clarified butter). The light from this lamp was bright enough for farmers on the foothills to work on their fields even at night! A queen of the neighbouring kingdom saw the light of the lamp from her palace and wondered about the king who lit such a lamp.

One day, her husband, tired of hearing praise of his rival, got angry and ordered her to go away to the king she admired so much. In those days, the wife had no choice but to obey her husband, and accordingly she set off to Kumbhalgarh, where she was warmly received by the king and his family. The kind treated her like his daughter and gave her all comforts. By then, her husband had decided to march to Kumbhalgarh with an army, but his progress was impeded by the dense forest, which seemed to grow even denser as they went further. Finally, they were so tired that they decided to send a message to the king and see if there was any possibility of avoiding a war. The king, to their surprise, not only welcomed them warmly, but treated him as a son-in-law (in Indian culture, a son-in-law merits the highest form of treatment), and finally sent him away with his wife and a big chunk of land as dowry.

It is easy to get lost in time as you stand on the walls of this fort, listening to the stories of its legendary king – the king who gave his name to this area, and who lives on through his deeds long after his tragic demise. While there are no kings who live here now, the people who live here are truly their descendants, for they are a hardy lot who face the tough times well, living life in a difficult land and making the most of it. It does seem a tragedy that the fort fell at last to the Mughals, against whom it had been fortified, not thorough weakness, but by treachery. The reign of the Rajputs came to an end here, and what was left of their glorious reign was plundered, and left to lie in ruins, but once again people turn to the fort, in search of history, in quest of the kings who left their stamp on India history.

Private Day Trip to Kumbhalgarh Fort Including Lunch at Kumbhalgarh Royal Villas

If You Go:

While most of the wall is intact, it is not advisable to walk over the wall since it is slippery thanks to years of accumulated moss. Certain sections of the wall have been cleaned and are safe for walking on. The tourism department, is making efforts to improve the situation, and has taken the first step by lighting up the fort at sunset everyday, a major attraction for tourists.

HOW TO GET THERE:

By Air: Udaipur – 82 kilometers is the nearest airport
By Rail: Udaipur – 82 kms, and Falna – 90 kms are the nearest railway stations. They are well connected to all major cities in India.
Road: Buses are not an option here, though you can drive down from Udaipur for a day. The roads are well maintained and very picturesque.

WHERE TO STAY:

There are only a few options for accommodation in Kumbhalgarh itself.
– Club Mahindra Fort Kumbhalgarh: a well appointed resort, about 5 Kms from the fort.
– The Aodhi – this resort is nearest to the fort, just a kilometer away and is most favoured by foreign tourists.
– The Dera, Kumbhalgarh – this is a tented resort, 2 Kms away from the fort, where you can gain the unique experience of living in tents just like royalty.
– Kumbhal Castle

Photo credits:
First Fort Kumbhalgarh photo by Ashwini Chaudhary on Unsplash
All other photos are by Anuradha Shankar.

About the author:
A home maker and budding travel writer, Anuradha Shankar lives in India and loves to travel with her family. Taking every opportunity to explore known and unknown destinations, she writes about her travels on her blog, ‘A Wandering Mind’. Her greatest desire is to visit every corner of her beautiful country. See her blog about Kumbhalgarh at www.anushankarn.blogspot.com

The Stone Artists of Mahabalipuram

Tamil Nadu, India

by Chandana Banerjee

A grizzled old sculptor, bare-chested and in a blue checked lungi, squats on a low wooden stool working intently on his creation.

“Ganesha’s mouse, Madam,” points out Erudhayam, the guide, who is showing me around Mahablipuram (or Mamallpuram), the historically-rich seaside town near Chennai in Tamil Nadu, on this hot summer morning. The sculptor looks up from his work for a brief moment to acknowledge our presence before going back to his rhythmic scraping, a sound that is part and parcel of the ambience of this quaint seaside town.

The scratch and scrunch of stone, the sonorous ‘tonk tonk’ of hammer and chisel, the high-pitched banshee-like screech of the drill is as much part of Mamallapuram as are the ancient temples and monuments made during the reign of the Pallavas.

Somewhere in 600-630 A.D., King Mahendravarman laid the foundations of elaborate rock cut cave-temples, and built the Dhramaraja Mandapa for the pilgrims who visited this town. Then from 630 to 688 A.D., his son, Narasimhavarman I, who was called Mahamalla, started the Mahamalla style of temple architecture, which consists of free standing monolithic structures. Most of the monuments at Mamallapuram – the monolithic ratha, sculpted scenes from the Mahabharata and mythology on open rock face of the Arjuna’s Penance, the rock cut cave-temples of Govardhanadhari and Mahishasuramardini, the Jala-Sayana Perumal temple, the sleeping Mahavishnu at the rear part of the Shore temple complex, were built by him. Narasimhavarman I’s son, Rajasimhan ruled from 700 to 728 A.D., and pioneered the masonry-style of architecture and built the magnificent five-storied Shore Temple. There is an old legend here that the king built seven temples, of which, six have been swallowed by the sea and a tsunami.

If the Shore Temple, the Five Rathas, the Mandapams and Arjuna’s Penance are what this small town is about, then so are the hundreds of sculptors who work in street-side studios, meticulously turning stone, metal and wood into pieces of art. Mamallapuram is all about sculpture, old and new; history and mythology as is the old bespectacled guide in a crisp white veshti (a sort of wrap-around skirt that men wear), who has been standing at the very spot at the gateway of the town for the past 31 years, heralding tourists with his trademark “I can show you Mamallapuram. Want a guide?”

This guide traverses between the role of the story teller, historian, cultural ambassador, and translator. It is he who introduced me, as he must have done to others, to the soul of Mamallapuram. He had been my guide a month ago, when I first visited the town to admire the ancient monuments. This time, when I tell him that I want to know more about the sculptors – the ancient ones, who disappeared mysteriously, leaving many of their creations, unfinished, and the new sculptors, who carry on the legacy of this temple town, Erudhayam takes me to the Five Ratha road. The showroom with the most opulent sculptures is situated here. It belongs to the award-winning sculptor, Mr. M. Durrai Raj.

At ‘Mayan Handicrafts’, in his sprawling showroom, the entire kingdom of Gods and Goddesses are parked in front of the shop: a languid, life-size Buddha, Saraswati – the serene goddess of learning, the radiant Lakshmi, various sculptures of the laddoo-loving Ganesha, Vishnu and Shiva, favourite deities of South India, Hanuman – the monkey god, and a pair of voluptuous celestial nymphs. Granite elephants and roaring lions find a place among the pantheon of deities. The rooms in the shop are packed with scores of idols, while an equal number jostle for space on the dusty shelves.

Some are exquisite and carved by ‘the master sculptor’; others have been made by apprentices at the studio. Ganesha, the elephant-headed God who is associated with good luck, seems to be a favourite all over Mamallapuram. Here, in Durrai Raj’s shop, I find Ganesha dancing, reading, playing musical instruments, reclining and meditating. Most of the stone sculptures measure about a foot to over seven feet, and are made of various types of stones. Shipped all across the world and to various places in India, the sculptures from this studio are known for their quality and intricate craftsmanship. After spending time at Durrai’s shop, looking at glossy pictures of more statues that peek out from a thick portfolio and admiring the assortment of stone sculptures, I move on, passing other sculpture workshops on the way, where sculptors are hard at work, carving, chiselling, hammering.

I meet another sculptor, Dashnamoorthy, a seasoned artist, who is an alumnus of the Government College of Architecture and Sculpture at Mamallapuram. He has turned the portico of his house into a studio and shop. There he creates medium-sized stone sculptures of gods and goddesses, and sells them to tourists who saunter by. A French couple in cargo shorts and baggy t-shirts walk in to examine the polished, black idols of the pot-bellied Ganesha. They want to take one home, and Dashnamoorthy scurries off to show them some.

Erudhayam the guide, and I cruise through the dusty streets of Mamallapuram, sweat streaming down our faces, in quest of more sculptors and more stories.

All of the workshops along the streets hum with activity. The sound of screeching drills fills the air with their busy cacophony. I peep into a shop where a group of sculptors are immersed in their work. A man in a pair of dirty brown pants and a once-white shirt is chiselling away at a granite sculpture of Shiva, another in faded jeans and a psychedelic shirt works his drilling machine on a slab of stone, willing it to crack and reveal the delicately drawn shape of the idol. In another part of the studio, a man is working on a huge statue of Vishnu, while his friend slaps clay on a model of Buddha. As they work, wrapped up in a thin layer of smoke that swirls up from the kiln, Rajendra, a lecturer at the College of Sculpture and a bronze sculpture specialist, helps a trainee with his metal creation and also gives us a smattering of information on the process of making the metal figures.

“These figurines are made with five metals, which means most have 80% copper, 20% brass, 5% lead, and a little bit of gold and silver,” explains Rajendra, who has been teaching this very subject for the past 20 years.

I am curious to know about the College, which has produced more than half of the town’s sculptors, and wonder what role it has played in re-introducing the art of making sculptures, an art that had disappeared suddenly, after the decline of the powerful dynasty.

Rajendra answers my questions. “The Government started the college in 1957 to promote and revive the art of making sculptures and temples, something that Mamallapuram was known for since ancient times. Over the years, sculpture work has become the chief profession of the people in the town. There’s even a museum here with over 3000 pieces done by the students.”

Most of the sculptors we see around the town are alumni of this college; others learned the art from family members. While nobody here has been able to trace their lineage back to the sculptors of the Pallava Dynasty; the monuments in Mamallapuram and the new age sculptors have a fine bond, and rely on each other to keep the tradition and heritage of this culturally-rich town, alive.

“When tourists from India and abroad come to the town to see the monuments, they drop into the studios to buy sculptures. Business is brisk during the tourist season from September to January,” chips in Elumalai, a friend of Rajendra, who is a self-taught sculptor and takes pride in making small idols out of red marble and green stone. While most of the stone sculptures here are large, the marble and green stone deities in Elumalai’s shop near the Vishnu Temple are about eighteen inches tall. Delicately carved by this engineer-entrepreneur-sculptor, these can easily fit into a tourist’s valise or rucksack. “I make sculptures for middle-class people – affordable and portable.” he says.

Elumalai is the only person I’ve met in Mamallapuram, who can speak fluent English. He shows me the way a slab of stone is turned into a breathtaking beauty. “After we select the right size and texture of stone, we draw a rough sketch on it. Then we cut around it with a chisel and a hammer, and smooth the idols with a special set of chisels.”

The sculptor proceeds by drawing the finer details like ornaments, facial features and carves these out with a chisel. The figurines are smoothed further with salt paper in the case of small pieces or with special tools, when it is a bigger sculpture. Sometimes, these are painted black with ink. Electric drills are often used while making larger sculptures.

Row after row, lane after lane, the studios and shops in this seaside town, make and sell sculptures in stone, brass and wood. It is stone that seems to be most popular, while metal is a close runner-up.

As I leave the city, I pass the carved caves and the panels with ancient bass-relief work done by the sculptors of yore, and wonder if there is any similarity in techniques as well as the subjects of the sculptures. Mythology and deities were an important part of the monuments, and so are they in the sculptures that are being made ever since the college was established in Mamallapuram. Stone is still a favoured medium, as it was in the days of the Pallava Kings. While the styles of sculpture work might be different, I can’t help but wonder that both are about etching stories in stone.

If You Go:

Air: The nearest airport, Chennai is 64 km away.
Rail: The nearest rail junction is Chengalpet (30 km). You can also reach Mahabalipuram from Chennai (60 km), Pondicherry (134 km), Trichy (250 km), Madurai (375 km).
Road: You can drive down from Chennai in a hired taxi or hop onto a luxury bus.
The best time to visit this area is in winter, between the months of November and February.
For more information: Government Of Tamilnadu Tourist Office

More Tours of Mahabalipuram

Private Day Tour of Mahabalipuram from Chennai
Full Day Tour to Kanchipuram and UNESCO’s Mahabalipuram with Private Transfer
Excursion to Mahabalipuram from Chennai

About the author:
Chandana Banerjee is an independent writer, journalist and creative writing teacher based in India. She writes for various media like websites, newspapers, magazines, ebooks, e-learning and corporate communications. She also has her own writing company called the Pink Elephant Writing Studio.

Photo credits:
First Mamallapuram, Arjuna’s Penance photo by: Arian Zwegers from Brussels, Belgium / CC BY
All other photos are by Chandana Banerjee.

Lion Safari in Sasan Gir, India

Gir National Park, Gujarat

by Subhasish Chakraborty

Sasan Gir, land of the wild and the free, the savage and the beautiful, where endless dry and arid grasslands are rife with game. Lions prowl there, magnificent lions with imposing manes. A stunning variety of some of the magnificent specimens of wildlife found anywhere else on earth are here in Sasan Gir. We headed here as part of a wildlife safari tour from the Indian Institute of Travel & Tourism Management, New Delhi.

The tour was comprised of ten students who would be the future wildlife tourism experts of India, along with a tour coordinator from the Institute. As we embarked upon our Gir Lion Safari, we were all starry eyed and pumped up for one of the biggest wildlife experiences of our lives.

We reached Sasan Gir at the break of dawn after a tiresome journey involving both rail and coach travel. We checked in at the magnificent Gir Lodge, which is run by the Taj Group. The Gir Lodge is ideally situated at the edge of the world-renowned Gir forest. After refreshing ourselves, we had our brunch and surprisingly it started raining. We were told by the bellboy that it hadn’t rained for almost a year and that we were indeed lucky.

When rain showers come, it puts on a show no entertainer can ever recreate. The trees wear a fresh, washed look, the animals new coats and the damp earth takes on it’s own distinctive smell. Truly wizardry at work!

After lazing around on the balcony for almost an hour, we went out into the wilderness of Gir. As our coach proceeded towards the sanctuary, an overwhelming sense of peace engulfed us and we felt like we were in a very fortunate place, far from the din and bustle of metropolitan India. Here we were slowly and gradually embracing the evergreen forest cover.

Midway we saw a herd of deer grazing in the grassland. And much to our delight, the herd came close to the marshy area bordering the road. Our guide instructed us not to make any noise as they might get distracted and flee from the scene. We made no noise, but there was frenzied clicking of cameras, which would serve as great take-home memory.

The next day our guide took us on a tour into the jungle. It is said that the real beauty of Gir forest unfolds if one goes deep inside the dry arid forest. Besides lions, other animals found here are the rare and elusive Leopard, Jungle Cat and Rusty Spotted Cat. Among the prey species are the Cheetal, Sambhar, Four Horned Antelope, Wild Boar and Hare. Gir also is home to Peacocks and Parakeets. With more than 200 species of avia-fauna, Gir is a bird watcher’s delight. The dazzling lakes and rivulets enhance the aesthetic beauty of Gir. We were especially fascinated by the sheer immensity of the Indian Buffalo.

Not far from the dirty road, our driver pulled over and pointed. “Lion!”

The animal sprang forward with lightening speed and the next instant it had a “dik-dik”, the smallest member of the antelope family, hanging limp in its powerful jaws. The encounter was brief, dramatic, savage and yet strangely beautiful rather than cruel. This is the place where the real action takes place in a three dimensional and unedited splendor right in front of your eyes.

As darkness enveloped the sky our driver suggested we should return to the Lodge. Reluctantly, we headed back to the resort. From the lawn inside our Lodge, we looked across the herd of buffaloes. In the distance, we could hear the haunting call of the wild. We were tired but at the same time felt nostalgic as we sat beside a log fire reminiscing the day’s adventure.

The next day we were ready for our journey to the core area of the forest. We were told that Gir was a mosaic of woods, grasslands, swamps and streams with unparalleled diversity of flora and fauna. The guide showed us a salt lick on the banks of a rivulet where a herd of deer had come to lick the salt and quench their thirst. That day the word “Eden” took on a new meaning. There was silence everywhere and not a soul could be seen. It was hauntingly wild and beautiful.

Silhouetted against the rising sun, a hot air balloon rose into the sky on its aerial safari. As we drove around drinking in the sights and sounds of the forest, we came to realize that Sasan Gir is more than a tourist attraction. It is one of the few places where nature dictates the code of life.

Gir authorities and resort owners recognize this and appeal to visitors not to disturb the animals. In fact, conservation authorities in an impromptu session informed us of the ways and means in which they are redefining wildlife conservation in Gir Forest.

According to Y.S.Sharma, an Investigating Officer of the Ministry of Tourism “Tourism is important to the economy, but in Gir or for that matter in any of India’s Wildlife Reserves and Parks, the animals have the right of way. And indeed they do.

The District Administration, the academics, the technocrats and the elected representatives have all taken an active interest in helping to make the Gir conservation project successful. Coordinating Committees for protection, detection, investigation and follow-up have been set up involving all the law enforcement agencies both from the state and central government. Meetings are held periodically, information exchanged and strategies worked out and implemented jointly. The project has successfully checked illegal trade of animals as well.

Meanwhile, during the course of our discussions with the Forest Officer, from a distance we could see a group of wildlife photographers who had gone early in the morning deep inside Gir to have a glimpse of the rare and elusive Lions.

As it was late afternoon, and while we took some rest near a sparkling rivulet, two lionesses crept up to the left of the coach. We had our heads turned to the right, watching the male. They stood barely a meter away from us, looking into the front left window. When my friend Sachin turned around he found himself staring into the mouth of one of the lionesses, which happened to be yawning. Scary stuff indeed!

A little ahead, we came across another lioness with the most adorable cubs. They were rolling and jumping about and generally enjoying the carefree days of their lives before they start learning about going out hunting their own food.

Back at the Lodge, we discovered that two other groups had also encountered the same lioness and were raving excitedly about their magnificent manes. All that trail walking and outback touring was great fun and worked up a hearty appetite. When we returned to our lodgings, Ananda our cook, was basting a butterfly-boned leg of a lamb on the barbecue, with his secret marinade.

Thrilled by our daytime adventure we asked the Taj management for a mid night bash to celebrate. Liquor flowed freely and the table brimmed with goodies. Tribal dancers performed a dance to the percussion beat of native Gujarat. This memorable starlit dinner party finished off a truly memorable Gir Safari. Memories of Gir will linger on for a lifetime.

Wildlife Safari In Gir National Park

If You Go:

Nearest Airports are located at Rajkot at a distance of 150 Kms, Ahmedabad at 381 Kms and Diu, which is all of 104 Kms from Gir Forest.
The nearest Railway Station is Sasan Gir just a few kilometers away and Junagadh, which is a mere 65 Kms away.

Accommodation:
The Taj Gir Lodge has 19 Standard non-AC rooms, 8 Superior AC Rooms and 2 luxurious Suites. All rooms have attached bathrooms with running hot and cold water. The restaurant serves delicious Indian and Continental cuisine from 7 A.M. to 11 P.M. for breakfast, lunch and dinner. For further information visit the Gir National Park website.

About the author:
Subhasish Chakraborty is a travel writer from India. He has been in this profession for the past decade and has travelled extensively all over India. He was associated with some of India’s leading newspapers as a Travel columnist. He contributes his thought provoking articles on Travel & Tourism to many International Travel magazines and offers consultancy services to government as well as private Tourism organizations.

Photo credits:
Gujarat lions by Shailesh Raval – shaileshintoday / CC BY-SA
Gir Taj Hotel by SINHA / CC BY-SA
Indian leopard by A. J. T. Johnsingh, WWF-India and NCF / CC BY-SA
Indian lioness by Kailash kumbhkar / CC BY-SA

Contrasting India: Ladakh and Delhi

by Kemmy Lam

Serene Leh

As far as the eye can see, the entire region seemed to be just acre after acre of uninhabited desert. The beige-brown sands occasionally twinkle as the sand crystals reflect the light of the unforgiving sun. As our jeep drove on through the Ladakh district of India in the Western Himalayas, under the watchful eye of this bright afternoon sun, mud houses seemed to emerge from the desert. Then we see ahead the magnificent Thikse monastery which swells to its dazzling proportions, leaving us in awe as we looks up at the monastery from the town at the bottom of the hill.

Thikse monastery is an architectural phenomenon of white with uniformly aligned windows and topped off with a layer of rich earthy red. Its location on a hill, overseeing the dry terrain below and looking up to the majestic Himalayan mountains above the already high altitude of the region, provides one with a breathtaking panorama that is not to be forgotten too easily.

As we climb up to the monastery, also known as a gompa in Tibetan, we come upon a row of white pagoda-like structures called chortens standing proudly in front of the gompa, as if protecting it or providing an introductory glimpse of the architecture that was still to come. Climbing further leads us to the tiny cubical cabins of the monks which were built next to the gompa. The monastery temple looms before us grander than ever with its twelve floors and ladder-like stairs leading up and down the many levels and rooms within it. The most impressive room was the library. Although not big, it makes up for this with the numerous shelves of ancient Buddhist scriptures and texts wrapped in cloth packed meticulously according to their topics.

Walking out from the library onto a huge terrace, we notice a monk standing in a corner. His leathery face is a dark reddish brown from the daily beating of the blistering desert sun. Many deep wrinkles crease his forehead and line his thoughtful and reflective eyes. He wear the maroon-coloured robes of a Tibetan Buddhist monk with a bright yellow shirt inside. On his head, is a woolen cap, of the same shade of maroon as his robes. Although we did not share a common language, we smiled and said, “Tashi Deleg” which meant “Hello” in Tibetan.

Vibrant Old Dehli

The following week, we fly to Delhi, a huge contrast to the serene and peaceful surroundings in the regions of Jammu and Kashmir. As far as the eye can see, old Delhi is covered by throng after throng of people meandering around the many dark and mysterious alleys that twist and turn as a complicated labyrinth would. In the early mornings, this crowd can still be seen, although covered by a layer of “mist” that has descended on the capital mingling with the exhaust fumes that spill out of the trucks and auto rickshaws. This is the part of Delhi where the vibrant bazaar is located.

We stroll the main thoroughfare where makeshift stands sell fruit and vegetables alongside shops that carry odds and ends of kitchen utensils. Further into the market, butchers and street barbers have their stalls. There are also many guest houses and restaurants housed within the old and long-unpainted buildings, catering to the needs of the backpacking crowd.

The Old Delhi train station is reminiscent of the colonial days when it was the only major train station in Delhi. Men balance luggage on their heads vying with women carrying babies, all trying to get onto the efficient trains that come and go punctually from the station. A family of six wait patiently for their train to arrive make camp by a pillar outside the station. They have food, mattresses and a multitude of bags and personal belongings wrapped in large pieces of cloth.

As we walk the streets of Old Delhi we come across a holy man – a saddhu – posing with some tourists. His age can not be determined; his jet-black hair peppered with streaks of white and his eyes twinkling like those of a much younger man. He is dressed in an incandescent orange robe and had a red dot painted on his forehead. He carries a walking stick of bamboo in one hand and a tin can with a handle in the other. I remember the Buddhist monk we met at the Thiske monastery and smile. “Namaste” I say, which means “Hello” in Hindi.

There are many contrasts in India yet from north to south, the traveler is always welcome.

Amazing Ladakh

If You Go:

General Information:
Ladakh Travel Guide
Delhi Travel Guide

How to get There:
Buses run directly to Leh from either Manali or Srinagar, however the road is only open from June to mid October due to snow fall. Daily flights to Leh are run by Indian, Jet Airways and Kingfisher Red from Delhi, Srinagar, Jammu and elsewhere. These are, however, subject to inclement weather and may be cancelled at any time. Altitude sickness is also a worry given the altitude.

When To Go:
Leh can be very crowded during the summer months, and if you prefer to have the place to yourself to enjoy the pristine landscape without the bustling crowd, winter is an excellent time to visit the Ladakhi region.

Things To See:
The main tourist sites relate to Tibetan Buddhism, and to the stunning landscape. Ladakh is not only home to some of the most beautiful and serene monasteries you’ll ever see, but it also a land of rich natural beauty – and it’s this natural beauty that hits you so hard, because it’s a barren beauty. Many travelers find themselves at loss to understand how something so barren can yet be so beautiful. Must-see sites include “Moon-land-view” (the area around Lamayuru) on the Leh-Kargil highway. Many places in Ladakh need an inner line permit which is available for free in DC’s office in Ladakh. A travel agent can also arrange the permit for Rs 100 per person within an hour on any working day.

Places to Eat:
There many restaurants in Leh itself, but on venturing out, it is important to bring along some supplies from Leh.

About the author:
Kemmy Lam, an avid backpacker, bought her first SLR in anticipation of her nine-month-long world trip in 1998. She traveled overland from Singapore to Germany, stopping along the way for many excursions. The photographs and journal from this journey inspired Kemmy to seriously consider improving her photographic and writing skills so as to capture the beauty that fills our world both pictorially and in her write-ups. Kemmy has since lived in four countries, visited the seven continents, and is currently back in Singapore. She has recently taken time off work to write, photograph and of course, travel.

Photo Credits:
First Thiske Monastery photo by Aksveer / CC BY-SA
All other photographs were taken by Kemmy Lam except the one of the saddhu which was taken by Aubrey Groves.

Finding Tibet in India

Mcleod Ganj, Upper Dharamshala in Himachal Pradesh

by Chandana Banerjee

“Have you made this?” I ask the Tibetan woman as I run my hand over the sun-warmed beads of the necklace. She looks confused, not used to the English language. I point to the necklace and then point towards her. Her wrinkled face breaks into a toothless smile and she slowly nods an affirmation.

Strung together with large amber, maroon, turquoise and silver beads, the chunky necklace is a bohemian beauty. There are several other necklaces, key chains, charms and beaded trinkets in this makeshift stall on the Temple Road that this chuba-clad (‘Chuba’ is the traditional dress that Tibetan women wear) owner has made herself. Other stalls flank the narrow road where industrious Tibetan vendors sell everything from antiques to apples, T-shirts to yak cheese, handmade paper goods to bead jewelry. I’m tempted to buy one of these necklaces with smooth-as-pebbles beads, but I decide to save the shopping for later. Having arrived in Mcleod Ganj a few minutes ago, I’m eager to explore the place before I begin to load myself with goodies.

This is my first visit to Mcleod Ganj, a mountain village that’s a few hours drive from my home in the Plains of Punjab. After all the interesting things that I’d heard from my Tibetan friend, I had been looking forward to this trip to Mcleod Ganj.

The day is crisp and golden like a slice of crunchy, buttered toast. The snow-peaked Dhauladhars that peek out from behind the hotels and street-side shops; the sky is a bright blue with a few cottony clouds sailing across the visage. Serene and sunny, this seems like a great day to explore this little Tibetan settlement, which is often known as Little Lasha. Located in Upper Dharamshala (Himachal Pradesh), Mcleod Ganj is the home of his Holiness the Dalai Lama and the head quarters of the Tibetan Government in Exile. Home for several Tibetan refugees, this mountain village is packed with compact houses, shops and monasteries.

The first place on my agenda is the Temple Complex, the life blood of this Tibetan settlement, which houses the Namgyal Monastery, a museum, the administrative offices and the Dalai Lama’s residence. So, with my cherry-red rucksack slung across my shoulders, I make my way to the Tsuglagkhang (Dalai Lama’s Temple). As I walk down the street I come across maroon-robed monks; apron-clad women with rosy-cheeked toddlers in tow; tourists, ambling along or sipping their cappuccinos leisurely at street-side cafes; stall owners busying themselves with the day’s work.

The town is bustling with activity and there is a motley crew of people, devotees, tourists and vendors shuffling in and out of the Temple Complex. I visit the museum first, where the heart rending history of Tibet and the Chinese invasion is depicted through a series of pictures, texts, and relics. A feeling of sadness and helplessness engulfs me as I think of the cruelties inflicted on the shy, peace loving Tibetans. Will they ever get back their country, I wonder.

Solemn and deep in thought, I make my way to the Namgyal monastery that enshrines three magnificent images – an enormous gilt statue of Shakyamuni, statues of Avalokitesvara and Padamasambhava, or Guru Rinpoche, the Indian scholar who introduced Buddhism and Tantric teachings to Tibet in the 8th century. I offer my prayers to Lord Buddha in the wood-paneled prayer room, turn the burnished prayer wheels, and spend a few minutes gazing at the hills and mountain. Strings of blue, red, yellow, green and white prayer flags crisscross across the hills, flapping over houses, hotels and monasteries, like bunting in a birthday party.

By the time I walk out of the Temple Complex, it’s almost lunch time and I am immediately tempted by the piping hot vegetable momos that a vendor is doling out to all those who care for a quick snack. My appetite whetted by a plate of soft, fluffy potato-stuffed dumplings, I make a beeline for the cramped but cozy restaurants located in the center of the town that dish out cuisines from across the world. From Tibetan to Thai, Italian to Israeli, you’ll find scrumptious fare of all sorts the restaurants tucked in the alleyways of Mcleod Ganj. I choose Jimmy’s Italian Kitchen and wolf down a hearty meal of pasta with roasted garlic and sun dried tomato and mushroom cheddar potato.

After an interesting lunch, I decide to walk up to the Tibetan Institute for the Performing Arts (TIPA), a short distance away from the bus stand. Established in 1959, the TIPA was the very first institution in exile and is the home of lhamo, the colourful and unique folk opera of Tibet. There is a Folk Opera happening at the TIPA and I’m just in time to catch the last performance of the season. Dressed in elaborate costumes, the performers seem to be enacting a humorous piece of theatre. The audience, seated in a semi-circle in the open air courtyard is having a good time, burst into loud guffaws every other second. The atmosphere is redolent with laughter and bonhomie.

After the performance, I head back to the town to explore the cheerful little shops that are stocked with pretty, colorful things like traditional Tibetan skirts, hand-knitted woolies, incense, Thanka paintings, CDs of temple music, and handmade paper products. I buy a box of incense for the Gods at home, and a few pretty handmade notebooks crafted by the children of the Tibetan Children’s Village, a school for Tibetan children in Mcleod Ganj. I also manage to spend some time in the second-hand book shops and buy an armload of books.

A little tired with all the hill walking and sight seeing, I stroll over to a quaint little street side café for a cup of frothy cappuccino. A knot of girls are chatting over their cups of coffee, while a few other tourists are lounging around, enjoying the view of the mountains, reading or scribbling travel notes in their notebooks.

The sun is rolling down the horizon, like a golden tear on a mauve cheek. Little lights begin to flicker along the hillsides, winking through the curtains of gossamer mist; vendors wrap up their makeshift stalls, packing away their wares for the day; Tibetans are bustling back home, clutching bags of vegetables and other essentials, perhaps ingredients for dinner. Evening is quietly descending upon this settlement.

I still have a few more hours to spend in this peaceful little Tibetan town before I retire to my hotel room next to the chorten. I think of watching a movie in one of those basement movie rooms. There’s one below the vegetable shop – a dark, cramped little room where they are showing ‘The Mistress of Spices’. There are movie shows every few hours and though, these movie rooms are nothing like the glittering multiplexes that we’re used to, the experience is quite interesting.

The movie is followed by a quick dinner of piping hot Thukpa and noodles at a little Tibetan restaurant and pastries from Pasty Den, a confectionery shop near the bus stand. My day at Mcleod Ganj is coming to an end. As I walk back to my hotel room, I count up the things that I still need to see and do in Mcleod – like trekking up the Dhauladhars, visiting the Dip Tse Chok Ling gompa, the Tibetan Children’s village. There’s still lots more to do and I know I’ll be back soon to spend more time in Little Lasha.

If You Go:

How to Reach Dharamsala/Mcleod Ganj:
By Road: Dharamsala/McLeod Ganj is well connected by roads from Delhi (529 Km), Chandigarh (259 Km), Amritsar (195 Km), Shimla (259 Km). There are regular tourist and Public buses to and from Dharamsala or Upper Dharamshala i.e. Mcleod Ganj.
By Train: The nearest train junction is Pathankot 90 Kms from Dharamsala. There are regular overnight as well as day trains between Delhi and Pathankot.
By Air: Alternatively, you could fly to Delhi and then take an overnight bus to McLeod Ganj.
For more information: Central Tibetan Administration

About the author:
A lawyer by qualification and a writer by profession, Chandana Banerjee has been writing for newspapers and magazines since her high school days. She now runs her own writing company (Pink Elephant Writing Studio), and writes for digital as well as print media. She lives in India and enjoys exploring the vibrant country. Contact: chandanabanerjee30@gmail.com

Photo Credits:
First Dharamsala view by User: (WT-shared) Jpatokal at wts wikivoyage / CC BY-SA
All other photos are by Chandana Banerjee.