Advertisement
Published: November 22nd 2006
Edit Blog Post
Wandering tunes
Gypsy girls enthral pilgrims and tourists. Gita and Sita pose impulsively, fingers swirling, feet tapping, eyes smiling. No lens could resist the frame. As the shutter closes, the sisters cease to be exotic gypsy dancers. "Das-panch dena," the models ask for their remuneration. A picture costs at least Rs 5 in the desert.
Pushkar fair, arguably the largest camel and cattle fair in Asia, is a marketplace of frames. On offer are beauty and valour, curiosity and colour, velocity and gore. It has everything the West asks of India: ascetics, gypsies, snake-charmers, camel riders, long moustaches.
Wherever you point the lens, Rajasthan is bright and colourful. Just wait for the right light to fall on the reds, the yellows, the oranges, the greens, the blacks…and you have a picture worth flaunting. And who wins the bargain? Of course not the emaciated girls who ask for Rs 5.
Every year, hordes of tourists from elsewhere in India and abroad descend on the mountain-locked valley called Pushkar. As the villagers from across Rajasthan tether their camels and horses on the fairground, tourists fix their telephoto lenses to their sophisticated cameras.
The annual fair grew on the fringes of a pilgrims’ track. Pushkar boasts of the
Ice in the desert
A group of villagers enjoy a rare treat at Puskar fairground. only temple dedicated to Brahma, the god of creation in Indian mythology. On Karthika Poornima, pilgrims from across the country and tourists from around the world assemble round the Pushkar Lake. Saffron-clad ascetics in a reverie, Westerners cleaning the ghats…all must have been there from the time of Creation.
On the culmination of the festival, pilgrims - Indians and aliens, urban and rural - occupy every inch of the vast ghats round the lake. A dip in the holy water will wash away all their sins. As dusk falls, tiny earthen lamps light up the lake, where swans frolic in the day. The oasis was created when the god who rode a swan dropped a lotus to mark the ideal place for his ritualistic prayers.
Overlooking the lake and the town are two hillocks, where Brahma’s two consorts are idolised. Savitri, in a way, gave Pushkar its fame. When Brahma chose Gayatri over her to stand by him during an ancient ritual, Savtri cursed him that he would not be worshipped anywhere in the world he created. Then Savitri relented: Pushkar would be Brahma’s sole solace while his counterparts in the divine trinity - Vishnu, the god of
Holy water
Thousands of pilgrims come to Pushkar to wash away their sins in the lake. preservation, and Shiva, the god of destruction - are worshipped in temples dotting the length and breadth of India.
The narrow alley leading to the temple and the fairground is bursting with people. Photographers hunt frames amid a riot of colourful turbans and dresses. Now and then, a public address system calls for the parents of a child lost in the crowd: “Aap ki bacha bohot der se ro raha hai…” Rejoined families scold and beat the bewildered children for losing their way: “Kithne baar kaha ki…”
Wayside shops lure children with coloured candies. Cooks are busy drawing patterns with sweet batter in the boiling ghee. Children admire, adults bargain. Women gather round wayside jewellery vendors. Merchants beckon tourists on a souvenir hunt in handicraft shops with silver jewellery, marble boxes and a variety of antiques. Rajashtani attire, turbans, footware…everything finds takers.
Like beauty, even bizarre is exotic. Handicapped beggars and malformed bulls are on display as if they were miracles. Alms or offerings, everything strange has to be compensated. Girls scream and run as snake charmers suddenly open their caskets, where cobras coil. The sacred cobra, they say. A rupee donation will guard you from the
Voyage on sands
Tourists enjoy a camel cart ride at Puskar fairground. reptile’s wrath, they say. Pushkar comes only once a year!
Snake charmer’s tune echoes throughout the desert. Boys selling ravanatha, an endemic string instrument, play the enchanting tune as well as Hindi film numbers. Folk and pop have a symbiotic relation here. Nagin, the legendary snake woman that inspired scores of Hindi movies, comes alive in a makeshift tent at the fairground. Local boys wrestle to get inside the tent, where three girls seduce them before turning into snakes and skeletons with the help of an innovative light arrangement.
Giant wheels, circus, motor sports…rural families are on an annual outing. A bit of shopping for agricultural tools, homeware, ornaments, sugarcane, ice candy. Deafening music is blaring from all the stalls. Advertising announcements add to it. Amid the cacophony and dust, Rajasthan reveals itself. Pushkar becomes a meeting point of cattle traders, villagers, tribals and gypsies.
On previous days, the fairground witnessed funny events. Camel races, moustache competitions, turban-tying competitions etc. Some of the events were exclusively for the foreigners and they did not let the organisers down. Down the lane magnificent horses graze. A white stallion among them has been chosen the best of the lot. Gulzar is costlier than a fancy car.
Livestock traders and gypsies have been living in tents at the fairground for over a week. Every farmer who owns a camel will bring it to the Pushkar fair. The creature of burden, which fetches Rs 100 for a day’s agricultural work, earns up to Rs 200 for a ride in Pushkar. Women collect camel dung to fuel their hearths.
Haunting tunes of the desert flow from ravanatha. Ramlal and Rajeev are looking for customers. They make the instrument themselves, learn to play it themselves and sell it to anyone interested. In the meantime, they give soul to the marketplace through their music. Gypsy girls passing by tap to their music. Men on horses frighten away girls. Music soothes tired camels and edgy horses.
Liquor, meat and egg are out of bounds in this holy town. Almost all the buildings have turned its roof to a restaurant that have paratha-chapathi-dal-gopi north Indian food and bread toast-corn flakes European food on their menu. Wayside eateries cater to the foreign exchange-challenged. Sometimes, everything plays round the Angrez (the English), a local generic term for any Westerner. “Which country?” the local boys would ask if you are wearing anything alien.
Many gypsy tribes -- Kalbela, Bopa -- time their itinerary to the Pushkar fair. Their strange dress, jovial attitude and exotic dance are sure to attract the foreigners. Kalbeliya, gypsy girls, dance to their heart’s content when they are not carrying their infants in a cloth cradle hung on a shoulder. They decorate visitors’ palms with henna filled in a cone. The fair is a workplace for them.
On a stadium plodded by camels carrying tourists, artistes and acrobats are on the job. They do tricks and trapeze amid small crowds. Small girls walk on tight ropes, bend their bodies to pass through a metal ring and dance before the audience. Boys enact dramas with their chained monkeys. Monkeys somersault like Akshay Kumar and dance like Rani Mukherjee on their master’s command.
As dusk falls gypsy tribes pack up to leave the venue. The show is over for them. Truckloads of villagers go home after the trading. Camels and horses are led away. But pilgrims persist. They sleep on the wayside amid camels. Night doesn’t reduce the flow of men. They wait for tomorrow to bathe in the holy lake. Giant wheels keep running.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.135s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 11; qc: 18; dbt: 0.0405s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Rohini
non-member comment
Publish publish
Get ur travelogue published, i say in fact i've been saying that from the time u started this. it's worth it, pal