Lekha is an orphan who has quite a fascination for all things connected with Rajasthan(India). The fascination comes to life as she is pulled into the century when the Mughals and Rajputs are in a tussle over Rajwara (Rajasthan of today). The story...
It took around a week's haggling by Vaishali to worm out a permit from Ms. Veena, with subtle help from my lawyer Mr. Jaswani who had finally laid down his arms in deference to all the pouts and puppy dog faces made by her. We had been finally allowed to go on our secret rendezvous with a catch that we could go only if Mr. Anil Sahani the assistant of Mr. Jaswani tagged along with us.
Outwardly we had nothing to hide so we happily, agreed. Mr. Anil was quite a pleasant companion and seemed to have travelled a lot around Rajasthan. He pointed out all the interesting sights to both of us and especially made sure that we were kept well fed. He made it like a picnic trip for us. The four hours trip seemed to pass us by pretty quickly.
At my request we even stopped by Chand Baori but didn't enter as we were short of time. A promise of a future visit was elicited from 'Anil' as he wanted us to call him considering he was only a few years older than us. Vaishali and I had exchanged knowing glances on the significance of the monument as I sighed with nostalgic memories.
The hired Jeep dropped us on the outskirts of Bhangarh as the roads inside the village were quite narrow for the jeep to go through easily. I was kind of disappointed seeing the scenery outside which was now totally in the grasp of modernization.
Bhura our milkman was there to receive us with a huge grin on his face and along with him were few men and a whole troupe of kids of all sizes and shapes. The little monkeys were too excited to see visitors from 'the city'. A lot of giggling and jostling followed till Bhura shouted at them to shoo off, but they were persistent enough to move only a little distant away but still near enough to catch whatever we said.
It had been a long time since I had last visited a modern Indian village and had almost forgotten the scene with the welcome committee of kids always on the ready, as if they had been posted there especially as scouts to warn others about any intruders. Few had run off with the news of our arrival, shouting it out in the streets for all who would care to listen.
The result was that hardly a few steps had been taken by us and we had virtually the eyes of the whole village on us. Few idle men stood on the doorsteps to take a good look at us so they would not be left behind in the discussions which would later take place under some banyan tree or at the chaupal (community space). The shy ladies who were not privileged enough according to the hierarchy of the society to openly gape at us stood looking down from the terrace with their veil covered faces which was opened strategically to uncover only one eye.
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A small Chaupal
In all we made quite a procession to Bhura's house and felt no less than the politicians who visited the village right before the elections with gifts of promises. Our visit was also quite promising considering we would leave behind much fodder for talks which would last for weeks and also make Bhura and his great grandfather the talk of the village.
As we traversed ahead we saw a huge plot of ruins left unused by the villagers.
"This is sacred land. No one is allowed to build house over it. It was said to belong to a Rajput chieftain who brought glory to our village by fighting for Maharana Pratap." he said seeing our curious gaze on the two beautifully carved pillars lying on the ground.
