JOIN USMandu in the rains
Emperor Jehangir loved Mandu in the rains and he was a poet, a man of impeccable taste and style; a lover of art and beauty. The emperor was believed to have declared: “What words of mine can describe the beauty of the grass and wildflowers... I know of no place as pretty as Mandu during the rains.”
With its aura of a place moored in another era, Mandu in Madhya Pradesh is more irresistible when its weathered monuments glisten in a downpour and gusts of wind hoot across its lonely watchtowers and pavilions. Riding the crest of a hill and embedded in rain-washed greenery, its timeless monuments tell tales of love lost; of unrequited passion and anguish, of the loneliness and emptiness of palace life... Stand on the terrace of the enchanting Jahaz Mahal or ship palace on a moonlit night and you will hear desperate cries of anguish emanating from the lake below, locals told us. This is where many women from the king’s harem had plunged to their death; driven by the mental demons of extreme isolation, frustration and depression, or so the story goes.
The theme of heart-rending love runs through the town’s historic palaces and pavilions. The balladeers of Malwa still sing about the star-crossed royal couple — Rani Roopmati and the poet-prince Baz Bahadur whose tragic love story spawned several celluloid versions. Roopmati, the legend goes, was first married to a Rajput king who resented her all-consuming devotion to River Narmada.
One day, Baz Bahadur, the poet-king of Mandu, was out hunting along the banks of the river when he heard her singing and fell in love even before setting eyes upon her. Aware of her attachment to the Narmada, he built a pavilion, subsequently called Roopmati’s Pavilion, overlooking the waterway. And every evening at sunset, while she prayed and sang to the river in the valley below, Baz Bahadur sang to her about his endless love for her.
Life does not always script happy endings. Baz Bahadur was killed in battle, defending Mandu against the advancing Mughal army. But when the conqueror entered the city to carry away the beautiful Roopmati as war booty, he found that the queen had taken her own life.
Mandu is a fairy tale about to happen, especially in the rains, when it shimmers and seems to come alive as the capital of mighty empires.
Contact: www.mptourism.com
Periyar’s wild magic
Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary, one of the largest national parks in India, lends itself to a monsoon holiday. Green as a parrot’s wing with a 26-sq km artificial lake rippling in its midst, its location in the romantically named Cardamom Hills in Kerala makes it inviting in the rains for tourists who are not hardcore wildlife buffs.
Land safaris are limited in the monsoons, but lake cruises continue. We were lucky to see a grinning crocodile basking in the sun on one of the banks and iridescent kingfishers diving in the waters for a meal. The depths of the jungle seemed to bristle with unseen wildlife even as a gentle rain beat a tattoo on the roof of the boat.
In the rains, big game like elephants, tiger, bison prefer to stay in the forest quenching their thirst at water holes in the cool green depths. But if you are happy to feel the forest around you, inhale the crisp astringent air and listen to the song of nature. Monsoons are a great time to visit this lush corner of the country.
Back in our hotel in Kumily, the closest town to the reserve, we munched on crisp batter-fried banana fritters and steaming hot masala chai even as birds twittered as they roosted in the trees for the night.
We called it a day with an ayurvedic massage, said to be most therapeutic in the rains, knowing that the next few days held more excitement — a visit to a spice plantation; a few gentle treks with a reformed poacher as our guide, and some more time spent luxuriating in the spa.
Contact: www.keralatourism.org
Kumbhalgarh: Fort hopping
After the searing colours of Udaipur, Kumbhalgarh Fort appeared on the horizon like a massive raptor poised for flight. The monsoon retreat of the former kings of Mewar, the once-impregnable fort seemed to be fused with the rocky cliffs that fell away behind it. The citadel is protected by a 36-km-long rampart, which is the second longest continuous wall in the world after the Great Wall of China, related our self-appointed guide.
The only way to reach the 5-centuries-old fortress built by Rana Kumbha was up a winding path, protected by towering walls fortified with 7 protective gates. We trudged up the path and the landscape around us, parched by a blistering summer, unfolded soft and green as a gentle rain breathed life back into it.
We climbed higher and finally reached the top, crowned by the elegant Badal Mahal. The walls of the palace building still glimmer like ivory for they were coated with a mixture of milk and eggshells, while special ducts opened out under the floor, cooling the rooms from below. The acoustics of the zenana or female section of the palace were designed so that the king could listen to the gossip and chatter of his wives and concubines.
Later, back at our cosy little inn sculpted into a hill, we swapped tales with fellow travellers in the dying light. Kumbhalgarh, they said, was virtually unassailable, but an enemy within could penetrate it. And that’s what happened when Rana Kumbha sat one evening by a lake in his mountain fortress. Even as the great architect of the Sisodia clan of Mewar, the largest kingdom in Rajasthan, gazed down into the bottomless ravines and valleys below, death was inching closer. Kumbha’s son Uday fell upon him and hacked his father to death. Unassailable Kumbhalgarh became Rana Kumbha’s grave.
Contact: www.tourism.rajasthan.gov.in
Chhattisgarh: The throb oftribal drums
Chitrakote, India’s largest waterfall, may have been shrouded in darkness, but she announced her presence in dramatic fashion; filling the velvet black night sky with a thunderous roar and spraying it with droplets of water. It was only in the morning, after the sun had burned away the flimsy veil of mist that shrouded her, that we got to feast our eyes on her imposing presence. Vast curtains of cascading water, bloated with monsoon rains, tumbled down the face of a vertical cliff into a blue lake, cupped in the receiving arms of the rocky gorge. A sweeping rainbow arched across the spray, churned up by the sheer force of the falls.
Adrift in the backwaters of tourism, Chhattisgarh has treasures that can amaze those who venture out from the mainstream — spectacular waterfalls; mysterious stalagmite and stalactite caves; forests bristling with abundant wildlife; a rich and vibrant tribal heritage...
Later that morning, we drove through Kanger Valley National Park within striking distance of Jagdalpur, the headquarters of Bastar district. The forest here is said to be one of the densest in the world — a UN bio-hotspot to boot — and home to deer, wild boar, black bear, reptiles, birds... even tigers. In the midst of this intense vegetation, the multi-level Tirathgarh Falls poured down an umbrella-shaped rock, gathered itself briefly, and plummeted down another cliff into a clear blue pool at the base. Here we stripped down to our swimming shorts and plunged into a setting evocative of the Garden of Eden.
Pushing deeper into paradise, we entered the subterranean world of Kailash Caves; and art gallery of ghostly stalactites and stalagmites sculptures that popped out of darkness in the beam of our guide’s hand-held lantern.
It was now time to explore the tribal lore that is still alive and kicking in the smaller towns and villages. “Do not judge them with the tinted glasses of civilisation,” our guide cautioned us at the Anthropological Tribal Museum in Jagdalpur. Each evening the unmarried boys and girls of the Muria tribe file into a Ghotul, a tribal youth club of sorts, select partners and share a night of intimacy. And that was just one nugget we garnered on our tribal odyssey.
That night we returned to nature’s star-studded retreat at Chitrakote and drifted into restful slumber to the strains of the waterfall lullaby.
Contact: www.cgtourism.choice.gov.in
Valley of Flowers
The first strands of the symphony of colours greeted us well before we entered the fabled Valley of Flowers, tucked away in the Himalayan ranges of Uttarakhand. The narrow twisting trail we were on was fringed with wildflowers: reds, pinks, yellows, whites, a hint of purple...
Yes, this nature’s paradise we were about to enter, guarded its treasures with a vengeance. Those who ventured here had to earn that right by hiking up a demanding 13-km trail from Govind Ghat on the Joshimath–Badrinath road to the little mountain village of Gangaria, another 3 km away from the Valley. Thankfully, no one told us about this daunting trek — they only raved, and justifiably so, about the beauty that lay ahead — or we might have reconsidered our options and probably missed out on a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
With perspiration trailing down our brows, we plodded on till we came upon a signpost that stated the obvious — we had arrived — given the fact that the rugged mountain terrain ahead of us was carpeted with flowers. The predominant theme of the valley was purple, with other slashes of colour from a painter’s palette claiming patches of land.
There are around 500 species of flowers in the Valley and they work in harmony, taking turns to bloom and paint the landscape in different hues. Indeed, the mood and colour scheme of the Valley can change at different times of the season that starts around mid-May and extends into October. And when there are flowers, there must be insects; bees and butterflies with rainbows on their wings harvesting an abundant supply of honey.
But there is more to the Valley than just flowers. Even without them, nature’s Shangri-La was awe-inspiring. Mighty snow-tipped mountains heaving at the heavens; silvery waterfalls; sprightly streams skipping around and over boulders; fast-flowing rivers raging though gorges; dew drops strung like solitaire diamonds on spider webs... Largely untouched by man and civilisation, nature revelled in its epic canvas that was raw, yet beautifully detailed.
Contact: www.uttarakhandtourism. gov.in