Stretched out on the charpoy waiting for the moon to rise as the
star-lit night sky stared back at me, I stole a moment to recap how beautifully
the past week had panned out.
I was in a tiny village some 250 kilometres away
from Indore city. An NGO I had been acquainted with since 2012 (more details as the post continues) has been doing
some wonderful work with the tribals along the Madhya Pradesh – Gujarat border
ensuring access to education for children and mobilising communities especially
women into self-help groups. I happened to be in the state and was happy to
make that detour (only if having me over wasn’t going to be a bother for them).
As it turned out, I was welcome and warmly received.
Headless and still together | Photo: Figurines, Sanchi Stupa, Madhya Pradesh
I was a little lost in these thoughts but I was brought back to the
present by a persistent itching sensation that began with my feet. It then progressed
to my legs, stomach, neck and would continue the loop again with my feet.
Nostalgia and the romancing the night sky were not for me because in addition
to the itching, I began coughing with the insides of my rib cage reverberated
not so happily. We had to move indoors.
A restless sleepless and muggy night
later it was discovered that of the three people I was the one the bugs had
chosen (hence the itching) and a dormant chest congestion thought it ideal to
make an appearance on that same night (hence the reverberating rib cage). It,
of course, completely threw our plans off for the next day and no further
villages could be explored.
I was charpoy bound for 24 hours.
I love the familiarity that comes with returning back to a state a
second time. I was here in Madhya Pradesh in November 2014 exploring Orchha,
Khajuraho, Pranpur and Chanderi. I was
stoked enough to want to plan another visit to explore the other parts of the
state - which happened sooner than I had imagined. So I here I was, back in the state in September 2015
Pit-stop #1: Lap of history
September 2015 saw me hopping on a train to one of the more famous
historic places in not just Madhya Pradesh but also India – Gwalior.
I was delighted with my find when I looked up homestays there. SambhajiVilas is a family run heritage homestay of the Angres who have been living
there through the generations since the late 18th century. This I
would later realise is a rather modest description for a beautifully maintained
mansion in the older part of Gwalior city. For the uninitiated, the Angres are
the direct descendants of Kanhoji Angre, the first admiral of the Maratha navy.
Such palatial providence, I say | Photo: Sambhaji Vilas, Gwalior
Inside out | Photo: Sambhaji Vilas, Gwalior
The great outdoors | Photo: Sambhaji Vilas, Gwalior
Ensconced away from the din of the streets and walled within the
comfort of trees and tendrils I was in good company of the natural world. I had
a luxuriously large room that left very little to be desired. The quiet
environs suited me so well that it made getting to the Gwalior Fort a task. In
hindsight, I was glad I took the trouble.
Currently not in as good a condition as it could have been maintained
in, The Man Singh Palace within the premises of the Gwalior Fort however
entices you with secrets of its own. Known as one of the very few Hindu palaces
that stand today, I was happy I gave in and walked through the domed archways
with a guide who paused and pointed out to the remnants and the stories they
bore.
This was the place when the Mughals arrived, they seized and converted
it into a prison. Aurangzeb is said to have murdered his own brother, Murad,
here. The very beams that had loops so curtains could be drawn to grant each
queen her privacy were the ones that chained prisoners in the decades that
followed. But for all its gore, it is a fascinating monument built with great
attention to detail.
The mechanisms for communication were through hollow structures built
into walls that allowed the voice to echo between the storeys. There was
thought put in designing ventilation to allow the cooler air in and let the
warm air out because we’re talking about a time when there was no electricity. For
the king’s guests there was a designated pedestal-like seating arrangement which
was a couple of feet higher than the king’s own as a sign of respect. To me
this seemed like an endless list attesting to the brilliance of the minds that
once walked these lands.
Being regaled | Photo: Man Singh Palace, Gwalior Fort
Intricate work embedding Hindu motifs | | Photo: Man Singh Palace, Gwalior Fort
Old city of Gwalior | | Photo: Man Singh Palace, Gwalior Fort
Jaina Tirthankaras en route towards the Man Singh Palace | Photo: Gwalior
My next stop was yet another exquisite man-made structure – the Jai
Vilas Palace. This to me was opulence in its true manifestation. The palace was
constructed by Maharaja Jayaji Rao Scindia in 1874 at a cost of Rs. 1 crore
occupying an area of 12,40,771 square feet! I walked through many of the rooms
that can be accessed by common folk with my jaw dropped in amazement!
Grandeur | Photo: Jai Vilas Palace, Gwalior
The Scindia Museum | Photo: Jai Vilas Palace, Gwalior
An attempt to visualise what it's like to stand and stare out of a palace | Photo: Jai Vilas Palace, Gwalior
If this isn't opulence, please tell me what is | Photo: Jai Vilas Palace, Gwalior
Pit-stop #2: Yet another lake-city
Two days and a Shatabdi later I was in another of India’s lake cities
– Bhopal. I must admit here that the primary reason for this stop over was my
single minded intent of visiting the Sanchi Stupa. Sanchi - a UNESCO World
Heritage Site - is famous in the world for stupas, monolithic Ashokan pillar,
temples, monasteries and sculptural wealth. Its foundations were laid by
Emperor Ashoka and it has since stood as a remarkable specimen of Buddhist art
and architecture (where ‘since’ = the early Mauryan period i.e. third century
BC to twelfth century AD). Stupas have been inscribed with symbols of Lord
Buddha and Buddhism.
What I was left with after not realising how I’d spent over two hours
getting lost in its beauty was just how serene and calm it was. It was
invigorating. As with many such monuments, this too was nothing less than a
herculean feat of carving and erecting structures (sometimes even transported
across kilometres) in an era that didn't boast of any of the technology we
claim today. But look at what they can be boastful of in spite of it all!
Beauty of a different kind | Photo: Sanchi Stupa, Sanchi
A different view | Photo: Sanchi Stupa, Sanchi
Zen | Photo: Sanchi Stupa, Sanchi
I did not spend time immersing myself in the city of Bhopal. And that
could also be because I found myself a homestay - Jheelum Homestay - overlooking Bhojtal, the oldest
man-made lake in India created by Raja Bhoj in the 11th century by constructing
an earthen dam across the Kolans River. May be it was the proximity to a water
body that fuelled my creativity, for it was in those two days that I found
myself typing away getting more writing done than I’d had in a while! And in a
world of serendipitous occurrences, it was during our conversations that my
hosts and I learnt we were governed by a mere two degrees of separation – they
were parents of an acquaintance!
Home sweet home | Photo: Jheelum Homestay, Bhopal
Pit-stop #3: Going beneath the surface
It was another train ride from Bhopal that brought me to Indore where
I was to meet the team from Dhas Gramin Vikas Kendra – the non-profit with whom
I spent the last leg of my time in Madhya Pradesh. It was decided that we would
spend very little time in Indore and so after an 8 hour drive we reached
Kakrana around midnight. We were staying over at a residential school that is
built and run for tribal children. At day break along with birds chirping, I
was awakened by children getting about their day.
Morning with the kids at school. It's song and rhyme time | Photo: Kakrana, Indore
I seemed to have tickled their curiosity and caught their attention.
Just as they had mine. Not too many of them would go on to complete their
education. The means – be it infrastructure or basic awareness around the need
of education – did not exist. The ones who had made it here were relatively
more fortunate than their peers back in their villages. But in spite of this
bleak picture what seemed reassuring to me was something of that dedicated-ness
in them going about their morning rituals! I was told some of the students go
climb a nearby hillock to study - away from the distraction that comes with
being around friends and peers.
It's amusing watching them just as much as they are amused by you | Photo: Kakrana, Indore
After breakfast we made our way to the first village - Umrali - that
afternoon. And then another later that evening.
Women's group meetings | Photo: Umrali, Indore
Throughout our journey to the villages and the time I spent watching
women interact with each other, as they occasionally glanced my way with a shy
almost invisible smile across their lips I was moved by just how different my
world was from theirs.
For many of them just the idea of speaking up within their own little
clique went anything from ‘revolting’ to ‘peculiar’. And for the ones who were
‘brave’ to speak, their voices struggled to mention anything beyond their
children or the household. One never heard them talk about themselves; as an
idea that seemed rather alien to them. When asked whether they had aches and
pains, they would giggle as if suggesting that it wasn’t a topic that merited
any talking.
And then...
The day after I was charpoy bound I embarked to make a return journey back home – and that was nothing short of an adventure in itself. It comprised of jumping on to a 4x4 that was followed by hitching a ride on a tempo, hauling a bus, another 4x4 and finally two separate bus rides that brought me to Vadodara railway station. I halted the night at Apsara Hotel, a cheap and safe place to spend the night if you aren’t particularly fussy.
I carry back these memories with me. Right now they seem like nothing more than pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Something tells me each of these experiences beginning from Gwalior to Indore have a message for me. The dots will connect. But for now, I leave them as words on a page.
As the sun sets | Photo: Madhya Pradesh
You can click on the slideshow below to catch some of the glimpses into the people I met!
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