Prancing through Punjab

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On our car ride to Abohar, only a meagre 8 hours, Hattie and Iksha especially felt the effects of 10 days of non stop touristing and the intense pollution we’d been breathing in.
Pinky, iksha’s father, had organised a stop for us to have our lunch. We discussed if it would be worth adding this diversion to our long journey and decided to be yes men, because when was the next time we were going to be lucky enough to take a long drive like this in India!? And oh, how much we would have missed out on!!! The town had been a haven in the 18th century for merchants (Marwari) to show off their wealth through building “party houses.” Yes that’s a quote. A very dusty town near desert and sand dunes, many of these mansions stood abandoned, their facades displaying distressed peeling frescos. In their decrepit state they held a fairy tale charm, echoes of past grandeur and the loves that Iives that inhabited them. We got out of the car at a restored haveli, the first thing that hit us was the vibrant aqua marine paint and the elaborate silhouette. It was contrasted with an abundance of white ornamentation: decorative panels, balconies, Mughal arches, pillars and relief sculptures of Indian men and women holding flower garlands and handbags. It produced a lavish effect. We sat on the manicured lawn and ordered a rajastani thali to share, and scrambled egg on breadcrumbs and chai whilst we waited, our surroundings made us feel like ladies who “tea” as a verb from the 50s.
After filling up on over 20 silver dishes of local vegetables and curry with delicious roti, we were given a tour. The guide provided us historical context, it was built in the 1920’s, explaining the art deco feeling, and was restored in 2007. The bedrooms were reminiscent of an Italian palazzo, earth toned frescos filled every space, causing our jaws to drop. It was £50 a night, and without question we’re coming back. We noticed an Indian version of Jane Van Eyck’s Arnolfini Portrait, showing a couple in a domestic interior holding hands and facing the viewer conversationally. Upon reflection, this could have been a depiction of the Indian love story Dhola and Maru, of which the town was famous for having many depictions of in havelis!

We spent the time resting, reflecting, and talking about reality television (the common passion for the three of us) and taking in the changing rural landscape. We’re used to the incessant horns now, apparently if there’s an accident then they say, “well you didn’t beep! How was I supposed to know you were there!?” We’re also immune to driving in the middle of the road, it’s just the thing to do! We witnessed huge sculptures of gods by temples and tractors and trucks full to the brim with burlap sacks and sometimes towing ginormous bundles of hay, bulging out of the sides, and groups of men with pitchforks ontop of them by the side of the road. We admired how this country spends time and care embellishing and beautifying even the most mundane every day objects- for example lorries! Hand painted with bright colours and designs, they trail metallic and tasseled ornaments and contrast greatly to what we see on the M4.

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