STEP WELLS: THE RESERVOIRS OF LIFE’S ELIXIR – PART II

The Sombre Sister at Asarva – Bai Harir ni Vav

Visiting Adalaj had just ignited the passion for visiting stepwells in me and one Saturday morning while I was out bicycling with my camera slung across my shoulder, a random bearded guy smiled and waved at me. I stopped, we chatted and that’s how I met my stepwell brother Amrit Sharma.

Meanwhile, I had read about a couple of stepwells in some place called Asarva (pronounced Asarwa) on a blog by Siddhartha Joshi. I told Amrit about my desire to visit these stepwells and the very next day (the temperature was exceptionally high for a February day) we boarded Raval Bhai’s auto rickshaw and went to Ahmedabad in a bid to hunt Asarva. Our first stop was, however, at a beautiful Jain temple called Hutheesingh Temple, of which I will speak later. By the time we came out of the temple, the sun was kind of sending down heat-shafts from the zenith. We refilled our water bottles at the temple tap and climbed into the auto rickshaw again with an ambition to find Asarva and its stepwells.

Google map didn’t help much, and we navigated with help from people on the street. My eyes were untrained then, and the entrance to our first targeted stepwell – Dada Harir ni Vav was not very prominent. It took us some time going up and down the same street till someone showed us the exact location.

Sketch of the Bai Harir Stepwell (elevation).© Tanvi Jain/Anthill Design. anthilldesign@gmail.com. Image used under explicit non-commercial use permission.

Within a fenced off area stood a domed canopy that looked like a tomb. A group of boys were playing there, their bicycles leaning against an old wall nearby. This place was so devoid of tourists, unlike Adalaj, that these boys seemed very privileged to have us and all of them followed us around as we explored the stepwell.

The dome was actually the umbrella to the pillared entrance pavilion from where the stairs lead you into the dark sombre depths of the five-storied well.

There were two inscriptions, enclosed in shallow niches of shrines with minarets, one on each side-wall, the left in Sanskrit (but in an informal handwriting type script) and the right in Arabic or Persian.

According to Wikipedia: 

The Arabic writing reads:^[1] This holy and wholesome water; the splendid travellers’ rest-house enclosed on four sides by carved and painted walls, and a grove of fruit trees with their fruit, a well, and a pool of water for the use of man and heist, were built in the reign of the Sultan of the Sultans of the age, established by the grace of God and of the faith, Abul Fath Mahmud Shah, son of Muhammad Shah, son of Ahmed Shah, son of Muhammad Shah, son of Muzaffar Shah the Sultan, may God keep his kingdom. Dated the metropolis of the kingdom the 2nd of Jamadi-ul-awwal in the 26th year of the reign.

A Sanskrit inscription says that the step-well was built in 1500 AD. It was during the reign of Mahmud Shah that Bai Harir Sultani, locally known as Dhai Harir, built the step-well. The name later corrupted into Dada Hari. It costed 3,29,000 Mahmudis (₹ 3 lakh) at that time. The ornate step-well has spiral staircases pieced into the sidewall of the well shaft and descending to the different platform levels.^[1][2]

The walls themselves were dark pink with darker markings on them, in a way much darker and serious looking than the orange-yellow-pink walls at Adalaj. The overall look was also much less ornate and definitely sober. However, there were carvings of both Hindu Gods and Islamic motifs, of peafowls kissing/beak fighting, elephants in cavalry and the customary Pot of Ambrosia (Amritkalash) and the Tree of Life (Kalp-vriksha).

Amrit Kalash

Kalp-vriksha

Like the inscriptions, these low relief sculptures were also niched within high relief minarets with geometrical carvings. The prominent sculpture that ran along the walls were of a line of large lotuses (Hindu), accentuated with a narrower line of floral vines (Islamic) below.

From the second level (the ground level being the first), the stairs led to the third and so on until the fifth. Seen from the landing, the pillars and beams above looked impressive, though devoid of the heavy ornateness as compared to Adalaj.

But before we continued our descent, it was fascinating to see how at each landing, the floor of one level (ceiling of the one below) has been cut away leaving only a ledge along the walls, to allow light to the next level.

If you had a brave heart you could walk along these ledges to reach the platform on the other side. We did that, and from here we could see the well shaft, at a distance, with the customary seat that had the backrest towards the shaft.

And then across one more ledge and one more platform and we were on the balcony that surrounded the octagonal Kund well pavilion. The well (Kund) below was, however, a square one. Filled up with silt till the brim, it looked like a courtyard instead.

These octagonal balconies (galleries) were at each level, both above and below us. From above, we heard people’s voices and saw a group of foreign tourists with probably a local guide. The boys who were constantly on our heels immediately left us to join them; thank God!

The sculpture on the outer walls of the parapets (low walls railing the galleries) were mind blowing. Repeated rectangular patterns with elaborate geometric cut-ins and cut-outs, punctuated at eight places (corresponding to the eight pillars) by little domed shrines.

Each of these little shrines had their own carved pillars bounding an Amrit Kalash complete with miniature dragon arches (Ref: Full size dragon/naga arches in Adalaj).

Between the two pillars opposite to us, we could see a window cut in the wall that revealed the well shaft. The wall of the shaft directly opposite to the window held yet another Kalp-vriksha enclosed in a shallow-cut shrine. A line of rock-cut birds emerged from each side of the shrine and probably continued along the circular wall.

We went ahead for a look into the well shaft.

Looking behind, the stairs through which we have descended looked surreal in a strange orange midday light, contrasting starkly against the dark recesses.

Gallery around the central kund of the stepwell, Asarva

From the gallery, a pair of narrow spiral staircases went up to the ground level and down to the lowest level.

I entered into one of the spiral stairwells and was greeted by a flock of disturbed bats flying out through the opening I got in. A few bats still hung on (literally) but I could not get proper photographs due to poor light. I went down the entire flight till the lowest level. Looking up from the Octagonal Kund was a delightful experience. I always find myself enjoying looking up well shafts and deep recesses of Kunds, looking at the world I reside in with a different view. Deep within the ground the spaces are so fantastically semi-dark, cool and silent, and from the world above sounds of traffic, of humans shouting and pigeons cooing all appear to be mixed up in a faint din that seems almost unreal. Inside the earth, it smells differently too, of age old baths, fragrances of queens and kings, incenses, faint aroma of lichens growing on the stone walls, overpowered sometimes with the strong stench of bat guano.

I heard Amrit calling me and climbed back the spiral stairs, promising myself to bring a torch next time to see and photograph the bats. I stopped at each level, trying to photograph the various evolving forms of the Kalp-vriksha motifs and then appeared on the ground level to be greeted by two small domes or cupolas.

The structure that drew water from the well shaft (probably) a housing for the pulley systems was broken and big chunks of sculpted stone lay here and there. The channel to carry water for cattle was also half broken.

Broken and uncared for, the remains of the water drawing system and the cattle waterer. The background shows a mosque.

We left the well and went ahead towards what seemed a beautiful mosque located within the same compound.

The mosque had beautifully carved pillars and walls, a large dome flanked by two smaller ones at a lower level and inside there were vaulted ceiling corresponding to the domes. The striking feature, however, was the presence of the two Solanki style balconies.

The caretaker of the mosque, Mr. Mahmud, a white-bearded old man, showed us around enthusiastically.

There was a narrow turret that led to the mosque’s roof and Mahmud gestured us to venture up. Climbing up these age old stairs, I felt how before the loudspeakers came into use, the Muazzin would climb these flights five times a day and cry out the prayer call. On the roof, I could touch the domes and it was the first time I was on the roof of a mosque, so it felt really wonderful.

After visiting the mosque we went into another similarly fashioned building, but less sculpted.

This was the maqbara or the tomb of the queens and also housed the grave of Bai Harir, the lady who was the guard of the royal harem.

It was Bai Harir who built the entire complex of mosque, maqbara and stepwell. Some texts refer to her as Dhai Harir (Dhai = Midwife). And the original name of the stepwell was Bai Harir ni Vav (Bai Harir’s stepwell) which later got distorted into Dada Harir ni Vav (Dada = Male deity). But it was not a Dada, but a lady who thought to provide water to the thirsty humans, animals and spirits in the drought stricken region.

P.S: As my interest in stepwells surged, I ordered the book “Steps to Water: The Ancient Stepwells of India by Morna Livingston. On page 31 of her book Morna writes, An inscription in the early sixteenth-century Dada Harir Stepwell praises the Mother Goddess Devi, who exists “in the form of wells”³⁶ and as pure water, is “every drop a Goddess.”³⁷ (36 – Inscription on Dada Harir, Jain Neubauer, Stepwells of Gujarat, appendix 2. 37 – Eck, Banaras, 61)

And now I have one more reason to revisit, other than the bats.

Step Wells: The reservoirs of life’s elixir – Part I

Adalaj – My first tryst with step wells!

Frankly speaking, I had not even the faintest idea about step wells. A few days after I arrived in Gandhinagar, my friend Kaushik suggested, “Go, check this Vav (step well) at Adalaj; it’s beautiful!” I didn’t pay much thought to it; I thought it to be something like the huge wells (10-15 meter diameter) I saw in Deoghar district in Bihar (I guess it is Jharkhand now) which had a single door halfway down on their walls that connected to the ground level above with a straight flight of stairs – a clever way to save your rope length when the water went really low in summer.

My initial idea of step wells!

BTW, I haven’t watched the Bollywood movie ‘Paheli’, neither the Hollywood flick ‘The Dark Knight Rises’ both of which feature the famous Chand Baori (step well) of Abhaneri, Rajasthan. It’s a different matter though that most of these Baoris of Rajasthan are more of stepped ponds than step wells or a hybrid of both as I later learnt from Morna Livinston’s book (More about the book later). The Baolis of Delhi (to learn about these visit my friend Somdeb Basu’s blog here) however are somewhat similar to the Vavs (pronounced between Vow and Wow) of Gujarat.

Quick facts!

Ok, getting back to Adalaj Step Well, I went there on a late December evening, when my friends Dr. Tanmay and Dr. Sanchita Mahapatra arrived from Kolkata (for an upcoming Kutch trip) and I wanted to take them somewhere on the first free day they had. I kind of went across the temple compound, walked up the stairs and ‘Whoa! What have I been missing all this time!” I thought aloud.

Well, well, well, from then on I started delving into the wells, literally and figuratively. I have been to Adalaj half a dozen times more after that; with my wife, with friends on visit, and even with the trainees of the ILP (Initial Learning Program) batches of my office.

A bunch of school kids on a visit to Adalaj step well

Other than the breathtaking sculptures at the first level, what greets you here is also the coolness of its recesses. This step well has five floors going down till the water level of the well shaft during the driest times. Oriented North-South, the entrance is at the South through three staircases from the East, South, and West. The southern stairs have been locked up and the western one leads to a manicured garden, so you will be entering through the eastern steps. At the first floor (of descent) you will be fascinated by the beautiful polygonal landing hall with intricately carved pillars.

A movie shoot in progress at the polygonal first floor landing hall

Don’t miss the walls though, for the relief work of elephants, women at work and daily life, and lion hunts could give you an impression of the age when this well was built.

Scenes from the past

On the four corners are little rooms with big windows opening towards the hall.

Little room, large window!

Look at the beams that run between these rooms and the pillars – the carvings will make you dizzy, “Hindu? Islamic? Persian? Jain? – what style is this?”

Now, if you want to untangle the puzzle, try to find the Sanskrit inscription nearby (I couldn’t). There is an English notice outside the well that talks about this inscription.

The notice that talks about the inscription

The history (with a pinch of legend added) says that the construction of this structure was started by a Vaghela Rajput ruler, Rana Veer Singh, who died during a battle with the Muslim (Persian) ruler Mahmud Begada. Begada, however, didn’t stop or hinder the construction but rather hastened it by bringing in more workers. This might have two reasons – 1. Throughout the history we find many Hindu structures being destroyed by Muslim rulers/invaders and many Jain/Buddhist structures being destroyed by Hindu rulers too, but none of them ever tampered with any step wells. Since these were rainwater harvesting structures built mainly for the subjects, no one dared to be the reason of their dissatisfaction. 2. It is said that Begada was attracted towards Rana Veer Singh’s widow, Queen Rudabai and wanted to marry her. Rudabai, agreed to marry Begada on a condition that he had to complete the construction of the step well first. But on completion of the structure in 1498, clever Rudabai called the priests to invoke the Goddess in the step well and make the water pious. Once this was done, she jumped into it and committed suicide. That kind of sums the presence of various architectural styles, sculptural styles and their mishmash in this well.

A mishmash of architectural styles

Coming back to the scene of action, from the hall you must turn right and get down the flight of stairs to arrive at the second floor and so on till the fifth. All along, the pillars and beams will fascinate you with their carvings.

On the walls on the east and west that lead till the well shaft, you will find large niches cut to form shrines – some of them bearing the carving of the Kalp-vriksha (Tree of Life) or the Amrit Kalash (Pot of Ambrosia).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The pillars and beams are joined by ornate structures carved of stone, ones that look like the tied up curtains or that look like the body of a scaled dragon or serpent.

At the fifth level, you will come near a squarish water body, now covered with a wire mesh to prevent people from jumping in. Below the translucent green waters, you can see coins shining – offerings from the devotees. On my first visit, I guessed this water body to be the well shaft, but later discovered it was the holy pond or Kund.

The Kund

The Kund, post monsoon. Note the wire mesh is now invisible (submerged)

The well shaft lies behind it, cordoned off from public view. Once I visited Adalaj in the early morning, when the gates were not opened (they open the gates at 8 am). When we expressed our desire to visit, the priest in the adjacent temple suggested us to jump the gates. We did so, and discovered the step well once again. There were no visitors other than us, no guards too. So, we walked along the narrow ledges of the first floor pavilion, jumping over the bed of spikes put up on them to check people from this daredevil act. And only then, we could go till the well shaft. Looking down from the balcony with a sitting ledge, the back rest of which formed a part of the wall of the shaft, we saw the waters below and the carving of the twin fishes on the well’s distant wall. These fish relief, later I found in a few other step wells too, symbolizes the fertility of the water in the well.

Fish motifs in well shaft

Once done with your walk till the kund, you can climb up the stairs and go back to the hall on the first floor. From here, turn right and take the stairs on the west (opposite to the one you have used while entering).

The landing hall’s western stairs lead towards the garden

While getting out, look at the floral reliefs on the beam below which you passed and once out in the garden, look closely at the big Kalp-vriksha motifs carved on the half pillars (gate post type) at the exit.

Half-pillar with Kalp-vriksha

Now take the short flight of stairs to the roof of the step well. While walking along the edge of the elongated keyhole shaped plan of the step well (the round part being the well and the rectangular elongated parts the pavilions) you will find two spiral stair cases, locked now with wire mesh lids, that people could use to reach the well without going through the pavilions. Also take a look at the mesh covered well shaft though you wouldn’t be able to make out much in the dark abyss (except if it’s midday).

The well shaft: I put my camera and hand inside through a gap in the mesh and shot this blindly

While coming back, stop at the mounds on the roof. There were seven of these once, now five remain. The guard told me, these were the graves of the seven engineers/architects who had built this well. Apparently after the completion of the well, Begada had asked them if they could build another structure like this, to which they had confidently answered yes. The king, however, wanted his work to remain unique and unreplicated and thus put these poor fellows to the swords.

The graves of the engineers, they say

Personally, I don’t think this story as true, because one of the step wells at Asarva (Dada Harir ni Vav), also built during Begada’s reign, has a lot of similarities with the one at Adalaj and seems to be created by same set of architects. About Dada Harir ni Vav, I’ll tell you in my next post on stepwells.

The Black Hill and the Desert Lake

Breathtaking Banni: Part – 2

November 16: This was our second and last day of the trip and we woke up to a foggy morning. Sitting on the porch of Habhu bhai’s house we stretched our limbs towards the merciful sun for a warm up.

Yesterday, after our visit to Jafar bhai’s place we visited Kala Dungar or Karo Dungar, the Black Hill. At 462 m ASL, it is the highest point in the Rann. On this hill, there’s a temple of Lord Dattatreya – a divine form where the trinities of the Hindu mythology, Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva are unified in the same body. There are three distinct heads though. Legend says, here the Lord had stopped once on his walk of the world, and seeing the hungry jackals, offered his own body as food to them. The ritual, these days, continued since the last 400+ years, is that the priests of this temple offer food to the jackals after the evening worship. And this was the sight we wanted to watch.

The afternoon was fading but the sun was still strong when we drove towards Khavda, a very prominent village and probably the last one before Kala Dungar, after which the land gives way to Pakistan border. We stopped here for a while and then proceeded towards the Black Hill.

A notice declaring magnetic properties of the hill

On our way, we passed a magnetic hill, with a signage over it. I have seen a magnetic hill before in Ladakh and the fact is if you switch off your car engine and put the gear on neutral, the car will move upslope towards the hill. Some explanations refute the magnetic field claim and say that it’s a trick of nature where downslopes appear to look like upslopes. The apparent magnetic property of this hill near Kala Dungar was discovered recently (and proved wrong too).

Up towards Kala Dungar

The landscape has changed meantime; the long grassy flatlands lay far down below as our Bolero clambered up the winding Ghat roads.  A bus load of tourists were heading towards the temple, but their bus could not cope up with the steepness of the slope. They parked the bus and started walking up. A little ahead, a camel, decked with a lot of hanging stuff walked down towards the village, with his master on his back. Ovee said, “Shahrukh Khan”! Well, that was the name of the poor camel that runs up and down the hill carrying tourists, of all sorts, on his back.

Kala Dungar landscape

 A camel named Shahrukh Khan

Up near the temple, when we parked our car, the sun was preparing to set. There was still some time for the evening worship and the jackals feeding, so we walked up towards the viewpoint. On the left (West), stretched the vast salt pans and the setting sun created it’s reflection on its surface. A few lights from the chemical factory in Khavda dotted the otherwise darkening scene. On our right (East) stretched a different vista – a slope running down to a rolling plain punctuated by little hillocks and finally hazing out into the sky.

The viewpoint atop Kala Dungar

The Western view

The Eastern view

Near the viewpoint, there was a BSF outpost and the captain invited us for tea. We said we would come back after trying our luck to watch the jackals. When we went near the temple, the prasad was already put out for the jackals on the designated podium. It was quite dark, and we could see the silhouettes of the wild canines gobbling up food. Soon though a pair of huge wild boars came in and the jackals were driven out from their century old rights.

Before walking back towards the BSF outpost, we looked around for hedgehogs but found none. After spending some time with the jawans at the tea table, we started on our way back. The weather was getting chilly.

After we came down to the plains, somewhere midway, we stopped in a village where Habhu bhai had his in-laws living. We were invited inside and had a chance to see some excellent samples of Kutchi handicrafts. There were patchwork items ranging from bedspreads to cushion covers, carved wood furniture and lot more. From here, I bought a pair of rag dolls and a nice embroidered bag. The inside walls of this house was adorned with mud and mirror work, typical of Kutch. Even the way they kept their utensils arranged in the kitchen was aesthetic.

Embroideries

Applique

Mud & mirror

Finally, we drove back to Bhirandiyara and lodged ourselves at Habhu bhai’s house. After meeting Habhu bhai’s mother, wife and three children, and then diving into a sumptuous home cooked dinner of roti, dahl and sabzi, we decided to call it a day. Charpais (rope beds) were laid out for us and our hosts provided each of us with three blankets to put on. We initially thought it as overkill but the midnight chill made us realize the significance of the third blanket and regret refusing the fourth.

Sourav on the charpai

We woke up at daybreak and were greeted by the warm kettle of tea on the hearth. And this is where we were now, warming up for the day ahead.

Morning!

Bidding goodbye to Habhu bhai’s household, we boarded Nekin’s Santro and reached the RAMBLE (Research and Monitoring in the Banni LandscapE) field station at Hodka. After the usual cleanup and brush up, we came out to meet Rasool bhai who had come with his Bolero. Our plan for today was to visit Chhari Dhandh, the largest wetland in the vicinity, before we leave for Ahmedabad.

Rasool bhai is a great driver and he knows this desert like the back of his hand. So, off we went through the sands and salts careful not to tread on the fallen branches of the thorny Prosopis juliflora. On those sandy stretches that seem to lead to nowhere, we saw a few motorcyclists now and then. Rasool bhai said they were going to some function (Majlis) in a village near Bhujardo.

Running through the Rann

A flock of common cranes were seen grazing in near the scrubs ahead of us. Rasool bhai stopped the jeep. But the birds were too wary and the moment we tried to walk towards them they all took flight. On our way to Chhari Dhandh we met more flocks of cranes but all of them behaved the same.

Common Cranes

Common Cranes in flight

Now ahead of us stretched a vast mass of water, almost unreal that it seemed like a mirage in the salt desert that spread till the horizon. But this water body was real, because there were flamingos wading in it.

Flamingos!

Flamingos – yes, those majestic birds of dreams. We stopped the jeep about 300 meters away and started walking towards the shore. There were green bee eaters swinging on the tree branches, lapwings walking around in hurried footsteps and doves cooing about. In the mud I saw the tracks of jungle cats. About a 100 meters from the shore, it started getting muddy and too soft to walk ahead. So, I stopped and looked through my binoculars towards the water. Other than the flamingos there were a lot of ducks and waders.

Jungle Cat tracks

Meanwhile all my companions have started walking towards the watch tower. I decided to join them too. We climbed up the stairs and sat on the watchtower for some time – the desert wind blew into our faces. A harrier flew by, probably a Montague’s Harrier. Across the desert walked a Maldhari boy in his pink Afghani robe, may be towards his herd.

Through the desert

Kadambari and Megha bhai arrive

A dark blue Gypsy arrived and from it emerged Kadambari and her field assistant Megha Bhai. We greeted each other and spent some more time chitchatting. Then we parted. On our way back towards Hodka, we stopped to meet a group of camel herders, mostly because Rasool bhai wanted to fulfil Sourav’s wish to drink camel milk.

At the camel herders’ place (these nomadic people keep changing places, this was where Rasool bhai has seen them last) there were no camels. There was only an old man sitting in the sparse shade of the Prosopis trees, spinning wool ropes from camel hair. He said they have taken the camels to graze elsewhere.

Spinning Camelwool ropes

Grazing camels

We did see some camels later though, a herd tended by a few young kids. Rasool bhai drove us to a nice resort called Jheel (Lake). Ovee informed that this resort belonged to Megha bhai’s family. We explored around, looking at the Bhungas (the traditional, round, mud houses) and then the woman of the family showed us some splendid handicrafts.

 Bhungas (traditional houses) at Jheel, a resort near Hodka

Ovee checking out some handicrafts

Near the dining hall there was a framed picture of Bollywood star Amitabh Bachchan sitting on a charpai near the Bhungas and interacting with this lady – a part of the Kutch Tourism Campaign tour. At the dining, Megha bhai’s brother served us a delicious lunch of rotis, several vegetable curries and dahls. It was time to bid goodbye. Habhu bhai, Rasool bhai and Ovee dropped us at the RAMBLE field station. We got back into the Santro and started our drive towards Ahmedabad. We would reach the city by evening today.

Lunch at Jheel

Our footprint in Banni; source Google Maps. For original, please visit http://tinyurl.com/qdup8dr

Horse with no name

Breathtaking Banni: Part – 1 November 15: My friend Ovee Thorat is a scientist working with RAMBLE (Research and Monitoring in the Banni LandscapE) in the Banni grasslands of the fabled Rann of Kutch. And I had an open invite to visit their field station whenever I wanted. This weekend gave me the chance. My colleagues Nekin and Sourav agreed to join me and we decided to drive down the odd 400 kilometres on Nekin’s Santro. After office yesterday, Sourav and I had come over to Nekin’s house in Ahmedabad. The dinner, cooked by Nekin’s mom was fabulous and we had a good night’s sleep punctuated only by the rumble of trains running along the tracks close by. So, here we were, out on the road, Nekin at the wheel, me on the navigator’s seat and Sourav sitting pretty among our bags at the backseat, belting out selected tracks from his cell phone, which we have connected to the car’s audio. We’ve started at 5 am, and after two brief stopovers, we were nearing our destination – a village called Hodka.

Route to Hodka: Image source Google maps

This was our third stopover, at a chai shop near the Rudramata temple on the outskirts of Bhuj. We were not sure if we’ll be lucky enough to get lunch. It was 12-30 and we were snacking on Fafras and Jalebis, the only offerings this joint could serve.

Fafra (the long tube like things; salted) and jalebi (the spiral-rounded sweet stuff). Ignore the beauties in the background! 🙂

On our way, we have crossed the towns of Dhrangadhra – famous for the Wild Ass Sanctuary, Maliya – where the vast saltpans and the windmills mesmerized us, and Bhachau – one of the towns that suffered the worst during the infamous earthquake in 2001 along with Bhuj and Anjar. At Dhrangadhra, we saw a huge flock of Rosy Starlings. At Maliya I’ve seen my first Pacific Reef Egrets. And along the road noteworthy sightings included a flying flock of lesser flamingos, black shouldered kites sitting on the electric wires, and about half a dozen Montague’s Harriers in flight. About an hour more of drive now to reach Hodka via Bhirandiyara. Back to the car and DJ Sourav’s numbers! The road ahead was straight and narrow, but smooth. At Bhirandiyara we asked people and turned left for Hodka (locals often call it Hodko). For some reason, I haven’t been able to catch Ovee on the phone since this morning. I hoped my text messages reached her, and she would be at the field station when we got there.

 The RAMBLE field station at Hodka, Banni.

The final 100 meters to the field station was along the dirt track that emerged from the road and ended near the famed Sham-e-Sarhad resort. We could see a few jeeps, pickup trucks and motorbikes parked near the entrance, each having found a bit of shade under the sparse Prosopis trees on a sun-baked dusty landscape. At the station Ovee welcomed us. It was a nice, stone-built house with wooden pillars and rafters and a high sloping tile roof. In the open dining-sitting area we found a few people sitting relaxed, conversing or just taking a lean-back after their morning field sessions. Ovee introduced us to the researchers – Kadambari, Mitul, and Priyanka, and Kabul bhai, the person who cooked the fantastic meals for them. We also meet Habhu bhai, Ovee’s field assistant, whose house we were planning to stay tonight. They offered us lunch – freshly made rotis along with dal and veggies. Within a few minutes we set for the outdoors.

Outside the dining-sitting area of the field station. Note the simple yet elegant furniture.

Ovee, me and Sourav pose for a click: Shot by Nekin Vachhani

Kabul bhai, the man with golden hands!

The first was a village called Dumado where we would try to meet a person who kept and bred Kathiyawadi and Sindhi horses and Tazi – the desert hounds. We ditched Nekin’s Santro and got up in one of the RAMBLE field station’s Bolero pickup truck driven by Ovee. Kadambari and Habhu bhai also joined us. Dumado was about 12 odd kilometres and we passed through Bhirandiyara again and drove up a few kilometres along the asphalt road before we hit the dirt track to enter the village.

Long, straight roads, exotic Prosopis juliflora trees,

and the ubiquitous Bolero carrying people!

The landscape was almost same everywhere – dry stretches of sandy earth dotted with scrubs and grasses; the exotic and invasive Prosopis juliflora (planted by the government a few decades back in an attempt to green the desert) having taken over everywhere from the native Acacia. I wondered how people and their cattle navigated here – every place looked the damn same to me. However, our guides Ovee and Habhu bhai lead us to a big house that stood apart beside a dirt track. “Jafar bhai’s house”, they said. While getting down, the first thing that caught my attention was a young stallion, looking thin and starved, tied to a pillar of an open veranda. The veranda led to a large sitting room with long couches along all four walls, the corners occupied by cupboards and wardrobes of various sizes. “This is the outhouse, where they receive guests”, told Ovee, “for they believe in very conservative traditions and do not allow outsiders inside the house.” Ovee called for Jafar bhai and a man appeared through the inside door to inform us that Jafar bhai was talking to some other people – horse breeders, and will be here in 10 minutes. We came outside and I tried to take some pictures of the thin stallion. And then I realized I had forgotten to put the memory card inside my camera! Damn it! Ovee came to the rescue, lending me a 2 GB SD card. As I started taking pictures of the stallion, a middle aged man with a squarish face and broad shoulders appeared from behind the house, along with a few other people. Ovee introduced, “Meet Haji Jafar; Jafar bhai for us.” Jafar bhai got back to us after seeing off the visitors and spoke about the stallion. He was a recent acquisition, sold off by someone who couldn’t feed him properly. Now here, with plenty of food and huge areas to run about, Jafar bhai was hopeful about his speedy recovery.

The starved stallion; Jafar bhai hopes he will get back in shape soon.

He showed us the characters to look for in a horse – teeth that show its age, and good signs like the position of the whorl (a patch of hair oriented in opposite direction in any part of the body). He also told us about horses that have the Panchkalyan sign – which is actually a stripe or a blazeface with white socks/stockings/fetlocks on all four – considered prized and lucky.

Teeth and whorl!

Meanwhile, I took out the green rope I have bought from Alang and we presented it to Jafar bhai. Light and strong, this would perhaps be a perfect gift for his needs. “You want to see the horses? Come with me.” He said as he ushered us towards the backyard of the house. Here, under the shades of the Babool (Acacia or Prosopis) trees we found seven horses – grownups and yearlings among them.

The horses in the backyard.

Farther ahead a few other horses roamed about, grazing on the desert scrubs. Jafar bhai spoke about each horse as he showed them – he told us about the subtle difference between the Kathiyawadi and the Sindhi – the more pronounced domed forehead of the latter, and about their spirits and characters.

A Kathiyawadi-Sindhi mix colt (left) and a pure Sindhi mare (right).

Distinguishing Kathiyawadis (inset) and Sindhis: Kathiyawadis show highly curved ear-tips that almost touch each other (1), and a flat forehead (2) , compared to the less curved ears (3) and domed forehead (4) of the Sindhis. The Sindhis also show a straighter neck (5) and more ancient looks.

Suddenly there was a bit of commotion and a large, young hound rushed out of the back door, followed by an old German Shepherd (GSD). And the hound ran straight towards me, bending and twisting his body along with his wagging tail – a gesture that welcomes a friend met after a long time. Well, I have never met this hound before. In fact this was the first Tazi that I was seeing (Don’t confuse with the Tazis of Afghanistan, which are actually shaggy coated Salukis).

Tazi!

Anyway, baby-boy Tazi came and surrendered to me as I patted him. Old boy GSD also came over, but maintained a distance. I noticed a maggot wound behind the GSD’s left ear. Jafar bhai assured that he was being treated for it. Meanwhile the young horses romped around while the older ones, tied to their trees, got talked about and patted. “Want to take a ride?” Jafar bhai asked straight into my face. I hesitated. He assured me, “This Sindhi mare is very gentle and well-behaved.” Thus said, he untied the buckskin-sabino mare and led her towards the patch beside the outhouse. The yearlings, which were running about, started following in a train. “Horses are social creatures. They should not be kept alone,” said Jafar bhai. I saw the Tazi and the GSD following us too.

Young horses following the one chosen for riding.

Haji Jafar’s nephews.

Two of Jafar bhai’s young nephews have been trailing us ever, now they rushed inside the house to get back with the saddle and bridle. A dainty looking horse cloth was put on the mare’s back, the saddle was set and she happily allowed the bridle to be slipped in. Ovee told me that these elegant saddles are bought from Pakistan. A few decades back it was easier for the Sindhi people to walk across the border, stay with the relatives for a few days, and come back with some of these stuff. But now, one has to travel to Rajasthan, get a visa, cross the border officially and take a transport from there to the villages in Pakistani Kutch to get them. So, the prices are pretty high. Other than this long-way procurement story, a noticeable fact about the saddle was, it was strapped up a little way down from the mid-back, unlike the way you see in the films – near the shoulder blades. Jafar bhai said, this is the way to saddle in Kutch – it puts lesser stress on the horse. I asked him about horse shoes and he said they don’t use it here as the horses mostly run through sandy areas. Jafar bhai wanted me to get up the horse and I, a first time rider, felt apprehensive. He coaxed me, saying that he will get up with me. So up on the horse, I clambered and he jumped up behind me. Again my text book ideas went for a toss – these horses need to goading, no pressure from your feet on their ribs; just a gentle tug on the bridle gets the beauties going. And this was the famous Revaal Chal or ambling gait. Only a few horse breeds are born with natural ambling gait (the rest need to be trained) and Sindhi, Kathiyawadi and Marwari are among these breeds. These ambling horses or gaited horses are the best for endurance rides across the country – giving almost no stress to the rider or to itself while covering long distances in an even pace. (To learn more about ambling horses and their role in shaping human migration and history, read here.)

A moron and a master on a mare!

So, one by one, my friends Ovee, Kadambari, Sourav and finally Nekin took rides on the Sindhi mare. Ovee ‘this is my home’ Thorat demonstrated confidence and grace. Sourav ‘God, why I’m here’ Maulik was as hesitant as me yet tickled up for the adventure. Nekin ‘should I do this’ Vachhani though initially unwilling, finally showed what a true-blue Saurashtri rider is made of.

(Top to bottom) Ovee, Kadambari, Sourav and Nekin enjoying their rides.

Now, I should speak about Kadambari a bit. This was her first horse ride too, but she showed such confidence and courage that we had to bow to her, especially when through our conversations, we learnt that she had fought a battle with cancer recently and won it. As much a computer scientist, she is also an ecologist and a wonderful wildlife writer, and one can read her blog here. After one round of riding each, we wanted to end; the sun was blazing! Jafar bhai went to take off the saddle and bridle, but the wonderful spirited mare showed clear disagreement by shaking her head. “I want to run more”, her sinewy limbs twitched. But finally unbridled, she went off trotting towards the rest of her kin uttering a call towards some unknown ‘Neha’ in protest.

Chai served on saucer! (Gujarati style)

Jafar bhai reading out horse characters and signs from a Rajasthani horse manual.

Back in the outhouse where Jafar bhai served us Kari Chai (black tea) in saucers and read to us from a Rajasthani Horse Manual, I asked him the mare’s name. He said, the horses have no name here – another bolt! And I subconsciously started humming one of my favourite tracks, “I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name”. (The next part of Banni adventure will be posted soon.)

Ahmedabad – a Night out

October 22: Another good friend from Facebook, whom I have never met, called me up one day. “Hey, this is Rishit! Why don’t we meet up soon?” Rishit lived in Ahmedabad and I was about to go there to check the bicycle I found on an online buy & sell platform. Tomorrow is Diwali and we have a holiday, so I called Sanjay, our friendly neighbourhood auto-rickshaw guy and started towards Ahmedabad at about 5 pm.

My first stop was to be at Ghodasar (the d is pronounced between d and r as in ghoda = horse) to the house of Mr. Shelat, the bicycle’s owner. We drove along the Airport Road till the T junction from where left fork goes to the airport. We took the right fork and entered Ahmedabad. The change was evident – lots of people, lots of cars, honks, screeches, motorbikes et al, in summary a polar opposite to Gandhinagar. The last time I was in Ahmedabad was about 10 years back on an assignment to coordinate a video shoot and didn’t get to feel much of the city back then. On this ride, I could feel the city’s breath, its pulsating, throbbing life.

After a few stops to ask for directions, we found our destination at Ghodasar and checked the bicycle. I liked it immediately and we struck the deal. Now, it was time to head to Rishit’s place. The way was long and we passed through a number of wide roads and narrow alleys. I noted the Dilli Darwaza as we passed it.  Finally we were at the cross where Rishit was waiting.

Directing Sanjay to come back for me near Acropolis Mall at 1 am, we walked towards Rishit’s house. It was an old bungalow with a peaceful garden, a high wall and a large gate. There were big trees around. The bungalow and its surroundings reminded me of Koramangala area of Bangalore. Here Rishit’s wife Poonam and their little daughter Keosha welcomed me. Once inside, I met Rishit’s parents and we started having a nice chat, mostly about wildlife, snake rescues and field equipment.

 Rishit: pic from Facebook (I was not carrying a camera)

Here, I would take a bit to introduce Rishit. He is a fantastic architect and interior designer well known for his unconventional and striking works not only in India, but also in a few more places around the globe. He is a visiting lecturer at the NIFT (National Institute of Fashion Technology). But he is also a wildlifer from the core of his heart. Visiting sanctuaries, working for conservation awareness programs and snake rescues are a part of his life. Wait! The most important part is not yet over – he has combined both his passions and become a fabulous reptile enclosure designer. Designing reptile enclosures in a tropical country is a tough job and you have to be careful about the reptiles’ need of perfect environment and privacy as well as the display needs. Rishit has perfected this art. He has designed a few enclosures for various reptile parks and zoos and has been acclaimed for that. Even, the great Romulus Whitaker has certified him. Now, you understand the importance of this invite tonight. And boy, our conversation was one of finest times I would remember, with Bhabhi (Rishit’s wife), little Keosha, uncle and aunty joining in.

One of Rishit’s recent works: pic by Faiyaz Hawawala

So the plans were set – Rishit would take his wife and daughter to a nearby temple for a ritual pre-diwali worship. And I’ll accompany them there. After that we will have dinner and the four of us would go for a night drive towards one of the wilderness areas (Thol may be).

As we boarded the car for the temple, Keosha was bubbling with the thought of the night drive. She kept telling me about the hedgehogs, hares, and snakes she has seen, stopping now and then to confirm her narratives from her parents. At the temple the queue was huge, so Bhabhi and Keosha decided to join the queue while Rishit and I came back to their home. Here, I had my first Gujarati dinner. With things like big and small breads of various kinds (rotlo, mathiya and chapatti are the ones I can recall), fantastic sabjees (vegetable curries), salads and desserts, it was one of the finest meals I ever had. At the table and after that, we carried on with our conversations while waiting for Bhabhi and Keosha to arrive. Once they were here and finished their dinner, we got into Rishit’s Ecosport and zipped out of the city towards the wild roads.

We drove past open spaces, where new apartment blocks were being built here and there. We drove past horse farms, rich men’s weekend houses and poor people’s shacks till we were on the road with darkness and woods around. The first sighting was a pair of spotted owlets that Keosha discovered with her torch. After spending a few minutes with these round headed beauties we advanced towards a place called Shilaj. The night was quiet and though we had expected at least a jackal or a hare if not hedgehogs, the only wildlife we saw was a big hare lying dead at the side of the road – killed by a speeding vehicle. We got down to check and found the body was still warm and external sign of injury was just a few drops of blood under its head, probably hit by a motorbike or a corner hit by a small car. With sad hearts we cruised along a few more kilometres but found nothing.

At about 1 am, Rishit drove us to Acropolis Mall and we waited for Sanjay. Sanjay arrived at 1-30 and I bade goodbye to my hosts and guides. The road from Acropolis to Kudasan was dark and I had “miles to go before I sleep.”

Note: The image featured with the title of this post is of Keosha holding a hedgehog in order to remove it from the road (where it could get killed easily). The animal was handled only because it was essential for its safety. This image was shot by my friend Faiyaz Hawawala, during another night out.