Rajasthan revealed

Journeys Through Rajasthan
Edited by Amrita Kumar
Rupa
2011, pp 252
395

This is a compilation of writings spanning five centuries that reveal as much about the writers as the land about which they write, and in their own way, are mesmerised by.

They form an interesting, if somewhat motley group — a researcher and descendant of those who played host to James Tod; a Scotsman and prolific writer on India; a naturalist; a beautiful queen who broke the mould; a humourist; a wildlife conservationist; reputed journalists; Tod himself, a 19th century historian and chronicler of Rajasthan and the redoubtable Rudyard Kipling.

It is the latest in a category of books that cull out interesting articles about a city or state in order to present different perspectives and facets, much like the one on Kerala edited by Anita Nair or on Bangalore by Aditi De.

It is a welcome change from the usual overpriced, over-romanticised, glossy coffee table books on the state with its evocative photographs of castles, sand dunes and sepia-tinted pictures of the erstwhile royalty, and of course, the proud weather-beaten faces of old men with colourful safas and graceful women in brightly billowing saris against the bleak Rajasthan landscape.

It deals with some gritty in-your-face themes, like the piece by Prem Shankar Jha on Bharatpur, which makes a mockery of the euphoric descriptions given in travel pieces. “There are no birds. There are no marshes…the sanctuary is dead. All that is left is an elaborate fiction.” However, he does end on a hopeful note. In March 2011, the Rajasthan Government opened the dam sluice gates to allow water to moisten the marshes. The aquatic plant species have increased, providing nutrient-food for the birds. But the bleak prophecy is unequivocal.” The future will not happen if Bharatpur does not receive its full quota every year.”

The writers, hailing as they do from different backgrounds, bring their own perceptions and hopes to their reflections. It is a heady mix of mystery and realism. For example: Where did Amrita Pritam really go in the space of time when her driver could not find her? Was it a mirage that she saw or was it something she wanted to see in the labyrinths of her mind? I read an excerpt from a book by James Tod soon after this and was impressed by the practicality of his mappings, of the wealth of information he has gathered from this hitherto uncharted territory. Measurements of distances, descriptions of topography, geography, fauna and flora and characteristics of the inhabitants. No wonder, the area named after him — Todnagar — still has such a powerful pull on Pritam.

Maharani Gayatri Devi’s story is one known to most of us — that of a beautiful princess who was whisked away to be the third wife of a charismatic king. Her reminiscences are glamorous accounts of the trappings of royalty. I wonder if there could have been a less bland choice — that of her days in jail? In direct contrast is the story of the ravages of famine, albeit a century ago, set against the rose-red city of Jaipur, where images of the spectral remains of the dead and dying are juxtaposed with dramatic realism against that of the king’s cheetahs wearing little embroidered caps being taken for a walk. Badnor’s account of the royalty of Rajasthan seems a bit redundant while Aman Nath’s factual account of his discovery and transformation of Shekhavathi and Neemrana is a welcome addition.

There are two most interesting reflections. One has been included in Royina Grewal’s The Nowhere People, which details the lifestyle of the nomadic blacksmiths, the Banjaras, and other itinerant healers, entertainers, mendicants, thieves and other vanishing tribals. The other is in Dalrymple’s documenting of two of the last hereditary singers of an epic medieval Rajasthani poem. Both are equally fascinating.

As the foreword indicates, this book encapsulates the rich cultural diversity and the extraordinary spirit of its people.