From the arched window of the Chini Chitrashala, the Lake Palace was a dream in mother-of-pearl, resting on the Pichola Lake. We were standing the Udaipur’s City Palace, an awesomely impressive mass of buildings owned by the former princely family of Mewar. The night before we visited the City Palace, an extraordinarily-extravagant wedding reception had been held in its hired courts. Empty  bottles of champagne and French wines were piled up like the glittering wings of mating ants after their nuptial flight. An organiser, wearing a badge proclaiming him to be on the staff of an event-management company calling itself 360, told us that the reception had cost 100 crores!  Royalty has not been abolished, it has merely shifted to a different milieu!

We left the festive forecourt behind and clambered up narrow stone stairs designed to discourage attackers; ogled at glittering throne rooms: admired the open court of the Chinese Gallery, with its delicate Chinese murals and blue-and-white Delft tiles; paid our respects at the eternal havan of Goswami Prem Giri, the seer who had advised Maharaja Udai Singh to build his palace here back in 1559; and admired the aplomb with which the former princes claimed that this dynasty is the oldest in the world and they are the representatives of Lord Ram.

Guides also pointed proudly to a plush and carved chair placed on a platform. When the British monarch held a durbar in Delhi in 1903, all the Indian princes were invited, and special chairs, bearing their crests, were made for them. “Our king alone did not attend” guides proclaim, indicating that Udaipur was the only prince who refused to acknowledge the suzerainty of “Edward VII, Emperor of India”. This is contradicted by the displays in another room in the palace. It holds the portraits of British Political Agents Who Became Residents. Agents and Residents were appointed by the British to enforce the paramountcy of the Raj. There were 60 of them in Udaipur from 1881 to 1947. By 1903, therefore, Udaipur had been a liege of the British for 22  years!

Guides are, often, ill-informed and over-enthusiastic. The Mewar Trust that owns and manages the palace, among other things, maintains this princely property superbly. It was immaculately clean, with a single exception; the gold-leaf in its resplendent halls, glittered; and its museum had well-displayed and clearly-identified exhibits. It gave us a good feeling to walk around a living monument so lovingly preserved. The Trust should, however, pay more attention to the loos meant for its income-generating visitors: they were odiferous.

Udaipur is an intriguing old city designed in the typically princely mode: broad avenues and open spaces meant for the elite; narrow, crowded, winding streets encompassing the bazaars. Open-fronted shops sold hand-made paper, local slip-ons called mojris, carvings, bangles, trinkets and garments. Parking could be a bit of a problem but, slowly, walking, slowly, along the old lanes of Udaipur can be a very engrossing experience.

Khajuraho deja vu
At the end of a bustling lane, a flight of steps led to the Jagdish Temple. It resembles the carved and curvilinear temples of Khajuraho and is dedicated to Lord Krishna. There is a strictly enforced prohibition here, against photographing the idol.

Happily, there were no such restrictions in the Bhataratiya Lok Kala Museum. This fascinating place has an excellent collection of folk arts from all over India. It even compares similar art forms, like alpana and rangoli,  from various parts of our multi-cultural poly-ethnic land. This was our third visit to this Museum and we were delighted to see how it has grown. We sat in a small auditorium and were absolutely enthralled by  a puppet performance featuring kings, queens, musicians and lissom dancers. Puppetry was once the exclusive preserve of one community; it is now being practiced by many others as job opportunities demolish the traditional barriers of caste and profession.

In the old feudal days, even the servants in the palaces had a certain elevated status. Between 1710 and 1734, the Maharaja  built a garden for the rest and relaxation of the royal ladies and their ladies-in-waiting and maids. The Saheliyon-ke-Bari is still a soothing place of fountains, pavilions, flowerbeds and trees. It is now open to everyone and is cool and welcoming, particularly in the evenings.

It’s amazing how many lakes there are in the ‘desert state’ of Rajasthan. Most of them were created by far-seeing princes, and prosperous towns grew around these oases. We drove to another of Udaipur’s Lakes, the Fateh Sagar, and would have taken a boat ride if we had had enough time, but the sun was setting and we wanted to be at a memorial atop a hill before dusk.

Rana Pratap and Chetak
The memorial is dedicated to the warrior prince of Mewar, Rana Pratap. He fought the famous Battle of Haldi Ghati against the might of the Mughals. Crowning a hill overlooking Udaipur is the Maharana Pratap Smarak Samiti. This brave leader was devoted to his white Arabian steed, Chetak. At the height of the battle, the Mughal general’s enormous elephant, wielding a sword in its trunk, slashed at the right hind leg of Chetak. Despite the agony of his injury, Chetak carried his master to safety, leaping across a wide ravine to escape the pursuing enemy. He died in a cave with his head in his beloved master’s lap.

The late Raghubir Singh, who knew more about Rajasthan than anyone we’ve met, gave an excellent tag line for his state: Blood, Blades and Romance. As a proud member of the martial Rathore clan, he wasn’t awed by priests and their rituals but he was a great admirer of the architectural heritage of Rajasthan’s old temples. We thought of him when we visited the temples of Nagda. They are well-maintained monuments now, under the protection of the Archaeological Survey of India. But, unusual for an ASI complex, the signage was inadequate and if Raghubir had been with us we are sure he would have agreed that a small, and unidentified, temple had, originally, been dedicated to the Mother Goddess. Its sculptures of women were voluptuous and it didn't have a single male figure carved on it. The cult of the Mother Goddess is still a very popular one in macho Rajasthan.

And then we drove further out of Udaipur to the famed Temple of Nathdwara. The guards standing outside told us that we could not take our cameras in and even objected to us taking photographs of the building from outside the gate.  We also saw them turn back some foreigners, saying that only Indians are allowed in. In the row of shops leading to the temple, however, artists made superb paintings of the principle deity:  the black-faced and powerful Nathji aspect of Lord Krishna. We got a picture of an impressive icon of the idol displayed for sale in Samdani Bangles.

This, apparently, showed the greatly revered idol in his 11:30 a.m. raiment and regalia. His clothes and fabulous jewels are changed eight times a day, Nand Kishore Soni, sitting in the shop, informed us.
Here, too, we saw the graceful, but usually sombre, Pichhawai Paintings, depicting the various moods of Lord Krishna. They capture, in their stylised elegance, much of what is so special about the character of historic Udaipur.