“Aap bol dete toh aap ko lene hum hotel aa jaate! (If you had told me I’d have picked you up at the hotel)”, exclaimed the auto rickshaw driver from yesterday. We had run into him at the Hawa Mahal. 'Hotel??' I mused about what he said. According to the story we had fed everyone in Jaipur, we were staying with our (fictional) chacha. How did this guy know of a hotel?
Our first destination today – without breakfast – was the fort at Amber (pronounced as “Aah-Mare”). This is the fort that you always see on television on Discovery and other channels. It is situated on a hill-top with pachyderms winding their way up the zigzag path, foreigners gaping wondrously atop them. It’s a short ride out of Jaipur with buses available from the Hawa Mahal. The fort was indeed beautiful, its star attraction being the Sheesh Mahal, the Palace of Mirrors. It is an ornate chamber that overlooks a garden designed like a Persian carpet. The chamber is decorated with mirrors on all sides forming intricate patterns and designs. The place dazzles with a thousand reflections as every available space is occupied by gawking tourists. Guides abound, some genuine and imaginative like the man who was photographing the reflection of the foreigner and his girlfriend in a mirror to the shrewd lot who were proclaiming proudly that Mughal-e-Azam’s famous “Pyar Kiya Toh Darna Kya” was shot at that very place.
By evening, we were in a quandary about what to do in the remaining one hour or two. A cycle rickshaw puller promised to show us whatever else was open at that time (here, everything closes at 5:00 PM), for just Rs 4. He started advising us about where to shop and what to see in Jaipur. ‘We should probably recommend these rickshaw rides to Lonely Planet’, I thought. Stopping in front of a huge arch, he remarked: “These are the Mughal Gardens”. He volunteered to wait outside, but we sent him on his way.
I stepped through the arch and through the adjoining contraption resembling a door frame. It claimed to be a metal detector – much similar to the one we had come across at Chennai Central station on January 26th 2006 (what a coincidence). Be it the city palace, the Hawa Mahal, or the Jantar Mantar, we had come across these things aplenty. One had to step through it...and nothing happens. No beeps, no flashing displays. Just a bored comment from the police guard standing nearby: “Aage badhiye saab, rasta mat rokiye (move ahead sir, please don’t block the way)”. This was the city where bombs exploded less than a year back! So much for security on Republic Day!
As we stepped into the compound, I sensed that this was no ‘Mughal Garden’. A temple stood ahead, thronged by a massive crowd. I voiced my suspicion, and we stopped a gentleman to enquire where the Mughal Gardens were.
“Here?” He smirked “As far as I’ve heard, there is only one Mughal Garden. And that’s still in Delhi”.
My headache’s gone. I had my first cup of coffee in almost 60 hours.
Pic(k) of the Day:
"Pretty in Pink": This is the Pink City. The cloth shops are closed, but the fashion still adorns the street.
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