A VISIT TO THE ABODE OF TIGERS- NAHARGARH

This is a tale of how the 3 of us made it to the Nahargarh Fort and barely made it back.

Diwali Holidays. [Don’t mind that ’s’;Here at Manipal (Jaipur), it doesn’t matter anyway.]  

31^st Octoder’16.

YoHo B-3 218.

After the Monday breakfast meal of Chhole Bhature (Which are reserved for Sundays but surprisingly got served on that Monday), Me and VB are sitting in my room pretty much doing nothing other than ogling in our respective phones. The taste of the previous day’s piping hot Rawat ki kachori is still unwilling to leave our taste buds. (Which, BTW, when downed by a couple of glasses of Lassi and Badam milk just leaves one with nothing else to ask for). Here’s a peek-

A Must-If-In-Jaipur

When suddenly, amidst of the vella-giri, the need for a getaway is proposed; Which would, anyway, be more happening than spending the whole day in the confined space of our rooms and watching a film or two. So after an intellectual session of thought showering, we decide that we are not going to spend the rest of the day in our rooms but someplace else. Soon enough, the next big question emerges- ‘BC JAANA KAHAN HAI?’. This question alone is enough to put an end to our promising plan for the “promising” day. Soon after, VB goes back to his room, 219, looking forward to a sleepy and comfortable day ahead. I, meanwhile, scrounge the world wide web for a place feasible for us to go to. Amer fort, Jal Mahal, Rajmandir, Jantar mantar, Hawa mahal, Nahargarh fort etc. are names that are being thrown by google. Nahargarh Fort. The name of the fort sounds strikingly royal and after some digging out, it turns out that it can be the end result of our prospective now-cancelled getaway plan. The fort is in vicinity to our university in relative comparison to the other probable destinations and is some 2 km. of walking distance away from Chandpole, the last stop of our very own Chhabbis Number bus.

“This is it”, I say under my breath.

At around 1130hrs., I barge in to VB’s room and walk him through the plan. VB approves of it and Nahargarh it is!

So after some 15 mins of trying Rajasthan tourism phone and Hawai Firing, it was finally decided that we will go there by Bus and be at the stop by 1220 hrs. sharp. Suddenly, the fact of us getting late in the evening and missing the evening bus hit us and as a precautionary measure we decided to let RV tag along. (Should the need for taxi arise, RV would be needed to avoid bigger dent on our wallets.)

Backpack

Waterbottles

Chakna (Thing of paramount importance to VB.)

IDs

Wallets

Google Maps offline (without which I wouldn’t be typing this. Either we could not have made it to the fort; And even if we had made it, thanks to some ruhani (Divine, for the Hindi disabled) intervention, we couldn’t have made it back.)

After a quick bath, with the checklist prepared and checked, we were at the bus stop by 1230 hrs skipping our lunch. hoping to board the bus early to get back before dark. We waited for the bus. Meanwhile, we were joined by several other people and VB tore open a pack of Bourbon biscuits to get over boredom and hunger. (We skipped our lunch, remember). We waited for the bus. We still waited. Thanks to the increasing crowd, we dumb Witted travelers decided to head to close to a Stationery shop, hoping to board the bus before others. That of course, if the bus came. We got there and waited. (Yet, Again!). Come 1350 hrs., we were seriously contemplating on aborting the plan. It was soon decided that if the bus did not get there by 1400hrs., we would get back to our hostel rooms and switch on out laptops till time immemorial. At around 1350hrs., we see it coming. Yes at last, the bus had come. We were overjoyed. We started to signal him to stop when he was more than 100 meters Away. Little did we know, the bus driver was a smart one and he kind of knew what we were trying to do. He, in turn, started to signal us pointing at the ‘real’ bus stop through his wind shield. And our plan backfired.

After he stopped directly at the stop, I and RV made a run for the bus being oblivion of the fact that VB is unaware of our intentions. Halfway through, I look behind and see VB taken back by surprise. He is still walking. I signal him to run and VB, with all his might, runs.

Me and RV and VB too, is able to board the bus and though we were all dangling holding on to the overhead grab-handles, it was a relieve that we were finally going to Nahargarh. (Ab kaise bhi Nahargarh fort to pahuch hi jayenge, we thought.) Now the thing about fore mentioned grab handles is they can catch you off guard any moment, any time. Be it when your eyes are planted on ‘that’ someone or times when you are paying your bus fare. I remember this one time when a Homo-Bakchodian was holding the grab handles for his dear life when suddenly our very own Bus waala Ken Block braked hard. Little did he know, the grab handle would liberate to freedom and the HB would faaaaaaaaalllll to the front only to be stopped by the people standing on the front. That’s a story for another day. Let’s continue.

After about an hour of bus journey, for half of which we were seated, we reached Chandpole;(The bus journey was very different than the return leg of journey as we were going to find out. We were all seeing and observing things. With VB sitting in front and me and RV sitting together at the back of the bus, VB occasionally turned behind to check if we were all right.) The last stop and the place where we got off the bus was Chandpole and the place the walking ‘bit’ was going to start from. We didn’t even have the slightest idea of what the ‘bit’ was going to turn out to be. It would turn out to be a ‘Chunk’, as we found out later on.

Manzil Ab Door Nahin, Or so we thought.

Armed with Josh and determination to make our mark on the Nahargarh fort, we started off at around 1435 hrs. Thanks to google maps we headed straight through the crowded SC road walking across utterly crowded Chandpole Metro station and then through the Chandpole Darwaza. We then walked our way through the Hustle and Bustle of Chandpole bazar Rd. Chandpole Bazar Rd. is something every Jaipur-ite must cover on foot. The Shops selling all kinds of spices, groceries, household items adorned with the people selling fruits and vegetables on the road lend the Chandpole Bazaar one unique aura and flavor.

Walking on the Chandpole Bazaar Rd. for some time, we took a left to enter the ironic Bagru walon ka rasta at around 1453hrs. The activity and energy of the Place was meant to be experienced once. The narrow lanes, the flourishing shops, the old buildings flanking us, the behemoth peepal trees made us feel like time travelers for once and discussions about how the world is getting smaller and places getting closer to one another with time erupted. The growl of our empty stomachs, for once, had been suppressed by our will to get to the top; Especially now that we were able to see the fort clearly from down below. We were enjoying. Soon enough, things were to change as we entered the Purani Basti / Nahargarh Rd after walking for some 500-700 mtrs more.

Now, the Basti offers a different type of adventure to those who come to it. Narrow lanes converge into narrower lanes. So much so, that it made the 3 of us to walk abreast impossible. The streets of the Basti was filthy at best; With cow dung at every 5 steps and and a cow at, almost, every 15. The children playing in the streets of Nahargarh Rd. were another menance to write about (To VB, especially). Owing to the Diwali season going on, children were outside their homes, making merry in their tune by bursting crackers and doing stuff. Now what’s wrong in that, you ask. We all have done that sometime in our childhoods. But in this case, either they were trying to imitate Khatron ke khiladi or had gone berserk. They would simply light the cracker in their hands and throw it toward the road, in a fashion much similar to lobbing a grenade. Those buggers had me double checking the corners and or any moving thing in the open space of the porches. I was sticking to VB’s piece of advice which went something like this, To hold our ground if any kind of cracker lands in front or around our feet.  

Open drains, garbage and sometimes foul smell were common features in the Basti.

After walking, dodging the lit firecrackers and for some 1-1.5 kms, at last we had made our way through the Basti thanks to google maps (Which eliminated the need to stop and ask the bystanders,” Bhaiya Nahargarh kidhar se?” 

Until now, all of us were still pretty pumped up with occasional sips of water in between. (except RV. Allow me to elaborate. Instructions went something like this -- ”Sab apne apne Bag me bottle leke chalenge.” Which to a normal Homo-Bakchodian would mean a bottle with water filled in it. But our in house hero RV did what was told to him. Literally. He had brought his water bottle along but empty! Badassery at its best. What amazed me is that he was not feeling thirsty either.

What we had ahead was the start of the climb to Nahargarh fort. What we knew about the ascent (according to google maps) was that it had 3 hair-pin bends with descent gradient and we would be able to scale it easily. But little did we know, that was not the case it was going to be.

This is what the starting line looked like:

Chalein Phir?

It was on. We 3 enthusiastic bunch of boys started the ascent with full energy and vigour. After 15mins. or so, just before the first hairpin bend we were at an elevation level higher than most of the houses there. (Which, BTW, were two storeyed.) Which made us stop for a Photo Op. After several poses and photos we were on our way again; This time with renewed Josh thanks to the fact that we were at some considerable height. We were walking fast and steady with fewer breaks except for water and photo break. And we crossed the second bend. By this time, me and RV were good but VB had started to feel winded but pestered not to wait and walk on. We insisted on a break and there we were, sitting on the edge (quite literally) and seeing the lovely view painted on the golden canvas of the sun’s light.

View we could keep looking at.

And we soon were off. The inclination only increased which added to the already put effort. VB, who was somehow trying to lug himself was now dead tired. Just after we crossed the 3^rd bend, he parked himself on the incline (lying there as if sunbathing) and couldn’t speak much. All that was audible was his deep winded breaths and some murmuring which remains a mystery till date. After he regained his senses, he tried to contact his mom but due to no network coverage, he couldn’t. The reason for which, as VB told us, was that he had finally gotten ready for ‘Departure’, or even ‘Aspatal’ and wanted to talk to his mother. He later joked about having thought who to give the wallet, phone and bag as the Aakhri Tohfa. We still pull VB’s leg about this gesture of his. LOL VB! Not so soon, brother.

Things weren’t serious only until VB has not tried to call his mother. Before that we were joking about what would happen if VB were to fall down the incline; To prevent which, the formation went something like this- VB ß RV ß CK.(RV and CK were supposed to counter his fall. Bravo Sierra, I know.) Thankfully VB did not fall (Much to our relief). Next 2-3 bends were negotiated slowly with adequate breaks in between and before every bend. Meanwhile, VB would ask RV questions related to his lungs such as ‘Bhai mere lungs rupture to nahi ho jayenge na?’; To which RV would say ‘Nahi honge, BC Cardio kiya kar!’.

To counter the gradient of the bends, the were being negotiated from the far end (Taking the turning point as centre.). As we climbed we saw several people BUT either on two wheelers or on 3 wheelers which added to the sense of doing something different. A Photo Op at every two bends and multiple breaks at everyone ensured we take our sweet time to get to the top. By then a tired VB’s water reserve had gotten over.

After negotiating a total of almost 7 bends (which did not exist according to google maps), mysterious stares from people and 30 mins later, there we were at that top (or gate) which was marked by VB’s words- “Ab se BC roz exercise karunga.”. At the top, I ask VB to pause for a picture, which he did-

 Entering the gate, we came across a place which seemingly looked like the Nahargarh fort, but due to the ambiance, we were not so sure about it. After wandering here and there and walking along the broken boundary wall (doing which, the watch person screamed to the top of his lungs telling us not to go beyond), an about turn later, we were at the same gate where we found out we were at the back entrance of the fort. We all breathed a collective sigh of relief BUT except VB. He had now started feeling dizzy; I handed him my water bottle. We then sat on a concrete block for some rest, water, and the kurkure mixture that VB has brought along with himself. After some asking the bystanders and vendors around, we found that the main entrance to the NGarh fort was still some distance away.

We then started our short walk of around some couple of hundred meters to the Nahargarh fort and reached the real entrance gate of Fort at around 1545hrs. Clicking a photo of the board outside NGarh, we approached the ticket counter and showing our student IDs got the tickets at a subsidized rate of Rs.5/Person (Sweet!). Soon 

enough we were in and within the premises of NGarh fort.

After one enters the NGarh fort, he/she comes across a place called the wax museum. Not much do I know about it for we skipped it feeling we should leave something for next time. Moreover, we were on a time window of a maximum of 2hrs i.e. we had to be at the bus stop by 1800hrs by all means. The weather was on the pleasant side. Neither too cold nor too hot. Just pleasant! As we commenced on our walk of NGarh fort we entered the Suits for the queens, whose entrance was greeted by two large canons from the bygone era. The Suits which housed the king’s wives was situated next to the four wheeler parking. The canons were largely surrounded by flocks of people posing by it for a photo; We too wanted to but seeing the crowd we rather continued. At the entrance a policeman checked our tickets and made a small tear ensuring that one ticket serves for one visit only. As we entered the Mahal (?) we were greeted by a big verandah which is overlooked by the windows of the aisle connecting the rooms of the 9 wives that King had. (Pretty impressive of a number, I must say!).

View From One Of The Many Windows

The ground floor of the house had pretty much nothing save for some dark rooms and locked doorways. Exploring which we were soon on our way to stairs to the first floor. The first floor, as I’ve written earlier, housed the king’s wives and was a series of (flats?) consisting of a bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom with a hole (XD). We went along the corridor, going from room to room, exploring. The First floor was B-I-G. It had to be; The king was not supposed to disappoint his wives ;-).

Ceiling art on the first floor is also worth a mention. To absorb the vibrant colors used and the intricacy of it, takes more than a glimpse rather a long sweet look. 

The Picture Does Not do Justice To The Actual View

The stairs were greeted by long and narrow aisle which connected the queens’ areas of choice. We were just walking across the first floor with my phone kept in the front pocket with the video camera on ;). After an extensive photo session of VB, RV and me at every window with a view to the extent of my phone getting warm and having the 1^st floor covered (which has nothing except windows with view and how!), we decided on getting on the top level (terrace) where we could see people heading to. Now for a first timer, getting there is a tricky part, for, the stairs leading to the terrace was tucked neatly beside the veranda leading to total isolation. Thanks to the crowd heading there, we were able to find it quite easily.

Trust Me, The View Is Much, Much Better In Person

As we climbed the cramped set of stairs, we found ourselves on the top of the Nahargarh Fort with a view worth killing for. The top overlooked the Jaipur city, both new and old with the boundary wall of the N’Garh fort running on all four sides of the fort. The terrace was huge with the minarets of the queens’ residence breaking the monotony and lending the terrace a royal and grandeur look. There were several groups of people posing getting a picture clicked.After having the lovely view captured both, in our Mobile Phones and Memory, we retraced our path to reach the exit of building. Old Canons from the Maharaja-era flanked the gate. 

That's me and VB posing with the canon.

From here, we carried on to the pathway the ran through the N'Garh fort when we came across a Restaurant. Since none of us were particularly very hungry, we didn't bother to check it out. The road took us to the very end of the fort. We reached there just at time for sunset. The view from the place was simply spectacular. We stood still. After we were done absorbing the view, it was time to put our mobile phones to good use ✌. After multiple poses (More so for VB), it was time for a group photo. 

The View From The Far End Of The Fort.

It was now time to head back; For if we got late we would miss the evening bus to the university (The last bus, as we found out some days after the trip, leaves Chandpole at 2000 Hrs.)

At the entrance while exiting, we got ourselves to a vendor serving Chana Jor Garam; Not caring to ask the price, i ordered 3 of packs. Handing them to us, i give him a Rs.50 note expecting Rs. 20 in return."Sir, 40 Rupaye aur.", i hear him say as i extend my hand to take the 20 Rupees back. 

Foreigners getting ripped is one thing and us getting the same is Blasphemy! Chana Jor Garam had never tasted any better. ;-)

RV To VB- "Waha door, tera aur mera ek ghar hoga."

We started our descent at around 1745 hoping to catch the 1800 bus. But turns out the descent was the difficult one as we were all tired and dirty. As we made it below, it was now time to negotiate the alleyways; Running through the dark empty street in a triple file with stray dogs, cows, cow dung, angry Indian kids who were hell bent on setting our pants on fire and surprised stares made it all worth it!

At around 1830, give or take 10 minutes, we approached the Bus stand to find no bus there. We stood there hopelessly deciding what to do as a bus reaching to a halt at the stand. We made a run for the bus, and i could see VB running as if he was all charged up and rested.

Boarding the empty bus, we occupied three consecutive window seats and waited the bus to leave. As it left, we heaved a collective sigh of relief.

RV being the person that he is, sat just as if nothing had happened; VB meanwhile, took a shut-eye dancing to the tunes of the bus.

We reached our hostel at around 1945, with dirt feet (and hands), but glittering eyes. After a quick bath, we were at the Dining mess making cocky jokes about each other.

After a quick call home, it was time to sleep.

I had never slept better.