A border
conundrum
Throughout the cold night
we half-slept, cursing the occasional bumpy ride. When we finally sat erect on
our seats, we could see why Jaisalmer is
called the golden city. The arid region near Pakistan in the Thar desert showed
us no trees, no vegetation whatsoever, no water anywhere but only creamy sand
and yellow stones. We traveled around 500 kms Northwest to entertain ourselves.
The hotel itself wore a deserted look. No inhabitants were visible for miles. In
was very much unlike the Indian setting. A horn or two finally brought an
attendant out. He courteously led us to the foyer of the hotel.
After a token
breakfast we drove to the distant hill which covertly accommodated a fort along
with half of the city’s residents. Unlike other forts in India, 4000 families
were living inside this fort which was built in the 11th century by
the then Rajput ruler Jaisal. There were also a palace, some ornate Jain
temples, hotels and small shops that traded souvenir to excited tourists.The people had no occupation other than catering to avid tourists' shopping mania. They managed to make handicrafts, art work in sarees, design playthings and fancy wear. Alcohol was cheaper than it was sold elsewhere. A
desert safari in the model of one offered in Dubai was promised and after an
hour’s drive through a narrow lonely road we reached a dusty village. A few camels
and boys surrounded us. Coaxed by our guide, we made up our mind and climbed on
the back of the camels, two each. Our camel was led by a small boy who showed
us distant sand dunes, our ultimate destination. The ride was slow and
laborious. Posing for a few photographs, we settled for a beautiful sunset. The
closing clouds betrayed us and we treaded back once again on the camels. An
open hall in the village was kept ready with a camp fire and folk dances. The cold
wind and the gazals with rhythmic dance mesmerized us. Soon after a Rajasthani
meal we rode back to the hotel and went to dream desert legends.
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