JOIN USIf boredom could kill, I would have been dead last December. As much as I loved the idea of a road trip — that too, on a bike — the reality was nothing like all those fancy books and movies would have one believe. “How was it to feel the wind on your face as the bike zoomed past changing terrains?” asked ignorant friends on my return. There was no wind (Maharashtra, Gujarat and Rajasthan were at their sultry best, for most part of the day); my face was covered with a mask (for the dust) and the helmet. And I was sweating buckets under my safety jacket, kneepads and boots. Also, there’s no real zooming on Indian roads because they are either as good as non-existent or you are sharing them with bullock carts and trucks to camels and peacocks!
The first leg of our 6-day journey from Mumbai to Jaisalmer was, to put it mildly, a rude shock. “You could have flown down to Rajasthan. By now, you could have checked into a nice haveli, enjoyed a sumptuous thaali,” rued the devil within. And we had barely covered half the distance! By late evening, as we crawled through the traffic on Ahmedabad’s busy roads, my back ached, head throbbed, and the spouse and I were no longer on speaking terms.
Pillion perceptions
Perhaps, it was the good night’s sleep or the realisation that we were finally on the trip that we had been planning for so long. Day 2 started on a chirpy note, as we bid adieu to the foggy city and rode on the beautiful, wide Gujarat State Highway 41 and NH 14. The day grew warmer, roads busier — some were getting tarred — but surprisingly, the mind remained calm. When we didn’t find a restaurant, we just stopped under a tree and munched on some khakras or energy bars from the saddle bag. Hunting for a ‘decent’ washroom became more of an adventure than an annoyance. It felt good to see the awe (and possibly envy) on the faces of strangers as we took off on our green beauty, Ninja 650.
The challenge was to keep up the enthusiasm during the last 50 km or so of our 1,000-odd km ride. The skies had grown darker, the maps on our smartphones were confused, and we were ready to collapse. Finally, after much ado, we reached our destination — an erstwhile haveli converted into a beautiful hotel in Jaisalmer. As dinner was served only on the rooftop, we walked the additional steps, albeit grudgingly. Until we saw it! The Jaisalmer Fort in all its golden splendour. As we savoured the dal bati, fresh paneer and ker sangri (a traditional, spicy sabzi), every bit of the journey seemed worth it!
We could barely wait for the sun to rise the next morning to walk down to Sonar Quila, as the fort is locally known. Almost one-fourth of the city’s population still lives within the fort made of sandstones. As we try to find our way through the maze-like world heritage site, guides warn us that it’s impossible to do so without the help of an expert. We do it the amateur way, nonetheless.
Built in 1156 AD by Rajput ruler Rawal Jaisal, the fort, which stands amidst the Thar Desert, is home to a large number of restaurants serving Italian, French and local cuisines, handicraft shops and guesthouses. You don’t need to be an architecture connoisseur to appreciate the exquisiteness of the entrance gates — Hawa Pol, Ganesh Pol, Rang Pol and Jawahar Pol. The Jain Temple and Lakshmi Temple are also worth a visit.
Chilling stories
The highlight of the day, though, was the much-awaited stay at the sand dunes. Before that, en route we had a tour of Kuldhara, the haunted village, which is a protected monument, maintained by the Archaeological Survey of India. The story dates back to the 18th century when the Paliwal Brahmins used to live here. One day, as the legend goes, the ruler of the state Salim Singh set his eyes on the village headman’s daughter and expressed his desire to marry her. The Brahmin, afraid of dire consequences, asked for a day’s time to consult with his community members. The Paliwals held a council and residents of 85 villages are believed to have left their ancestral homes and vanished that very night. But not before putting a curse that no one will ever be able to settle in Kuldhara thereafter! Over the centuries, whoever has tried to settle down here has faced the music, say the locals. There are stories galore of paranormal activities here. So, the place remains deserted even today.
The sand dunes were deserted too, when we got there with Michael and Honey Singh (the camel and his companion) in the evening. The lanky teen urged us to jump and dance on the sand dunes. Ah, to see nothing but the golden sand, to feel its smooth texture between your fingers, to hear the sound of its silence! Sadly, that tranquility was soon lost as hordes of tourists made a beeline to click selfies with the setting sun.
We hopped back onto Michael and headed to our luxury tent. After some traditional folk dance and song performances, the effort to get our limbs to move was mammoth; it was biting cold. Once we managed to crawl into our bed, there was no getting out until the sun was out the next morning. After a day’s leisure in the Golden City, we were ready to hit the road, bid farewell to the windmills, and put our marriage to the test again.
P.S: Do carry your marriage certificate if you are planning to stay in Kalol, Gujarat. Some hotels need that to make your reservation.