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Published: February 7th 2014
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December 29
th 2013
“
It's coming around again, Its slowly creeping in The time at its command Soon enough it comes, And settles in its place Its shadow on my face, Puts pressure in my day” Powderfinger
Riding into the Great Rann (Desert) of Katchchh (Kutch) and its White Desert, I have a sense of reaching an end..... of place and time. Something about deserts.
This place is a seasonal salt marsh in the Thar Desert (Kutch District of Gujarat and Sindh Province of Pakistan). Covering 7,500 squ kms it is the largest salt desert on Earth.
Approaching the Pakistani border, we are stopped at a check-post and politely told politely that we cannot go closer. We stop and chat with the two soldiers and one takes David's bike for a little test ride down the road as he had not seen this new model before. Nice guys, not very intimidating at all, but I imagine effective enough if it came down to serious business. But just young guys from far-flung places in India, trying to make a life for themselves. You could do worse than the army, so long
as there are no real hostilities (and in this part of the world, it can flare up at any time as there is pretty much always a war going on with Pakistan).
We play a little off the road on the edge of the salt pan before heading back and into the White Desert proper, taking a small detour into a village where we do not seem to be very welcome (but probably just the inability to communicate at all is the problem).
Reaching the Rann, we are faced with an amazing expanse of nothingness as far as the eye can see.
There is a festival on and in Indian style it's writ large and over the top. A huge tent city including modern bazaars and food halls, full of rich Indian tourists who walk the specially paved road into the desert to a viewing area, with many venturing out into the salt. I try to ignore it all and want to be out here alone with the aloneness of the far off flat horizon of emptiness.
Sunset ride back to Bhuj (established in 1510), the capital of Kutch , with it's war torn look due
to the massive and destructive earthquake that hit here in 2001 (a previous devastating earthquake also struck here in 1956). I envisage a similarity with Kabul even though I have never been to Kabul. Ruins and empty blocks attest to the quake damage still. The old market is rich with mirror work and other traditional embroideries and it seems I have found the source of much of this beautiful material that I had always assumed more typical back in Rajasthan. Next morning I chat with a young guy at a
chai stall who remembers the morning of the quake (he was just 10) and being thrown from the second flow by his father into safe hands on the ground. Half his building had collapsed and many people including relatives and friends died.
Nothingness and destructive power in the desert. An eerie beauty and a landscape that seems to be holding the secrets of time.
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PD
non-member comment
Thank you!
Dear Mahadev, I have been following your blog almost since you started writing it :) Over the years I have loved reading about your adventures and more so the recent ones. You do have a fantastic way with words which gives the reader a as-good-as-real feeling of being present at all those amazing places. I hope you will find more and more time to write about your trips (as well as your thoughts) that are so enlightening. Lots and pots of luck to you as you move ahead in your journey! Best Regards PD.