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Photos: Mitakshara Kumari

Picture Perfect The quiet side of Pushkar is well worth a visit

My friend’s grandmother calls it “Pushkar ji”. With a single appellation, it changes from a city to a deity. Most famous for the annual November camel fair, Pushkar revealed its secret side to us during a quick weekend getaway from Delhi. Preferring spaces to crowds, we scheduled a visit not during the fair. .

We packed our car with all foods from soan papadi to green olives. Something for the sweet, something for the salty and something for just in case. We left Delhi at five in the evening, hoping to make it to Jaipur by nightfall.

With thin traffic on the road, the journey passed swiftly. But no destination is more important than food stops. In search of mirchi pakoras, we drove off the road. We found puri subzi instead. Our table was a charpai with a slab. By dim bulb light, we ordered one plate. We ate four. Some might squirm, but hot puri dipped in cool kheer satiates both hunger and greed.

We hit the gas as we neared Jaipur. We had booked tickets for the nine o’clock show of Sawariyaa. A bit ironic to drive all the way to see a movie! But the intention was to see Raj Mandir — Jaipur’s pride of a theatre. Touted as Asia’s biggest — it has creamy excesses and pink twirls of a roof, rose scent for atmosphere and chandeliers for embellishments. The audience were in their festive best and at their most vocal. Movie trailers were applauded. Rani Mukerji was cheered. But having seen the hall and Ranbir Kapoor in a towel, we left to see Jaipur.

Since Jaipur was only a night stop, we couldn’t visit the usual tourist spots. But driving through the main streets, the ordered geometry of the roads was obvious. The roads fall into grids. The shops fall in line. And all the facades are gloriously pink.

Early the next morning, after a breakfast of bread, omelette and chhanch, we departed for Ajmer. The contrast was obvious. While Jaipur might not be a metro, it has all the trappings of one. A friend from there said it has become unrecognisable in the last few years. Malls have sprung up. Trends have caught on. Ajmer, however, has only grown older as a city. The Dargah Sharif of Khwaja Moinuddin Chishti and the Taragarh Fort are the two main tourist attractions. After the recent bomb explosion at the Dargah, which killed three people, security has been tightened here. But it is impressive for the strength of peoples’ faith.

We now raced towards Pushkar for the sunset. Filled with pakoris and garlic-cheese sandwiches we watched the sun sink behind the lake. The Pushkar Lake is gorgeous. It is small enough to be taken in by the eye but big enough to let the imagination roam. The ghats circling the lake are striking in their austerity and order. Strict dos and don’ts mark the walls. But the lake is rendered sacred by people’s belief and not by ritual instructions.

With the sunset, it was time for food again. For dinner we had an unlimited and limitlessly satisfying buffet for Rs.50 at Om Shiva. Other than the fresh dal and healthy vegetables, the best dish was the doughnuts. They looked unappetising. But were the freshest, warmest, sugar caressed doughnuts imaginable.

The next morning started with a visit to the Brahma temple. One of its kind, the temple is interesting in the various tributes left by people. Thankful to god, people have dedicated plaques. The dedications tell of lives lived and of people loved.

It is a good place to shop for silver and “Indo-Western wear”. But Pushkar is a town of strange extremes. Meat, eggs and alcohol are prohibited. But drugs are part of the culture. The sadhus and the hippies make an odd couple. Foreigners are more visible than locals. And suddenly, Pink Floyd becomes as innate to the culture as the Rajasthani ektara. Indian tourists are few. Shops are stacked with toilet paper. Money exchanges are plenty. German bakery products are more easily available than pakoris. But, finally, signboards written in Hebrew spank more of selling out than buying them in!

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