PINK CITY FIZZ
In town for the ‘greatest literary show on Earth’, Alexandra Dodd heads out into Jaipur’s bustling streets
‘Incredible India!” declares our tuk-tuk driver Mukesh, as he dices across three lanes of oncoming traffic and cuts into the choppy sea of hooting vehicles travelling in the opposite direction. As our taxi driver in Delhi put it: “Driving in India is like a video game. Three things are very important: good brakes, good horn, good luck!” As a passenger, pure surrender is the only option. Now we are in Jaipur, not only the state capital of the northern Indian desert state of Rajasthan but also its cultural and artistic heart.
Founded in 1727 by Kacchwaha Maharaja Jai Singh II as a centre of trade and crafts, Jaipur is renowned for its beautiful blockprinted fabrics, its entrancing folk music, grand architecture and delicious hot, tangy cuisine. And let’s not forget the fetchingly dandyish Jaipuri turban and mooch (moustache), still very much in hip circulation.
THE JOY OF BOOKS
Every January, the city draws thousands of book lovers from across the planet to attend the ZEE Jaipur Literature Festival.
Each morning, Mukesh, our selfappointed personal guide, picks us up from the serene Suryaa Villa Heritage Hotel and jostles us through the jamboree of morning traffic, dodging traffic-wise street dogs, sometimes a lumbering elephant, a harnessed camel or a turban-bedecked horseman on a grand white steed wending their way through the exhaust fumes. He deposits us at the gate to Diggi Palace, an oasis of gracious gardens and capacious halls, which has been transformed into a literary wonderland for the festival.
Writers present at its 12th incarnation included two Pulitzer Prize winners — Andrew Sean Greer and Colson Whitehead — plus Alexander McCall Smith, André Aciman, Anish Kapoor, Anuradha Roy, Ben Okri, Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, Germaine Greer, Hari Kunzru, Jeremy Paxman, Markus Zusak, Jeffrey Archer, NoViolet Bulawayo, Irvine Welsh, Vikram Chandra, and Yann Martel.
Not for nothing it’s been described as the “greatest literary show on Earth”.
Even so, the glut of genius and
spectacularly nuanced discourse can be a tad overwhelming at times, so we decide, at strategically chosen moments, to slip away and make the most of our time in Jaipur.
On the Friday night, we head to the multiarts centre Jawahar Kala Kendra to watch a fashion show by designers from the Gujarati district of Kutch. It is a dazzling display of skills handed down from generation to generation integrated into unique contemporary designs. The brutalist desert architecture of the art centre and its cool minimalist café, with beautiful astronomical murals and tasty Rajasthani dishes, make this a sublime excursion.
HOW BAZAAR
Heading along the main thoroughfare of Mirza Ismail Road, you enter the Old City via the most beautiful desert-pink walls and gates.
It is here that many of the key attractions are located — one of them being the splendid and sprawling bazaar district, which runs for blocks and blocks lined with little shops selling everything from brightly coloured fabric to Ayurvedic medicines. There are spices, utensils, trinkets, perfumes, gemstones, silver jewellery, blue pottery and signature block-print textiles. I buy two pairs of hand-embroidered shoes and a cotton bedcover adorned with flamboyant blooms and tropical birds.
Later, we hail a tuk-tuk and whirl through the Old City to catch a glimpse of the magnificent sprawling City Palace, still inhabited by the royal family, and the Albert Hall Museum, modelled on the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, with a fusion of Islamic and Neo-Gothic architecture.
WIND AND WATER
On Sunday evening, we take a half-hour Uber drive up to the Amber (or Ahmer) Fort. As we head out of the bustling city centre, we pass the Hawa Mahal (Wind Palace), which features no fewer than 953 windows spread over five levels.
It was built in 1799 by Maharaja Sawaj Pratap Singh so that the ladies of the palace could look out over the street, from the small windows, unobserved. The façade of this magnificent example of Rajput architecture is believed to resemble Lord Krishna’s crown, as the Maharaja was an ardent devotee.
We also pass Jal Mahal (Water Palace). The light sand-coloured stone walls of this serenely symmetrical, low-rise palace are in stark contrast to the dark waters of the lake, so it appears to be floating in the centre of Sagar Lake as the sun recedes from the smoggy ether.
THINK PINK
Ahmer Fort, the home of Rajput rulers until Jaipur city was constructed, sits atop a hill overlooking Maota Lake.
You enter it through a labyrinth of narrow passages and winding streets, as if in some medieval city in a fairy story.
We are there for the night of January 26, Republic Day. On the same day in 1950, India adopted its democratic constitution, and to mark this auspicious date, a fabulous night concert takes place. The fort’s immense towering walls are illuminated in shades of iridescent pink, blue and green against the night sky as we watch a performance called
The Griot by acclaimed poet, novelist, essayist and playwright Ben Okri.
This is followed by a recital by one of
India’s most accomplished sitar duos, Shakir Khan and Azeem Ahmed Alvi, and then by 3G: Three Generations of Percussion.
On another late-afternoon trip — this time to the Sun Temple on the far eastern side of the Pink City, we discover that Jaipur earned this moniker when, in 1876, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert visited on a tour.
Since pink denotes the colour of hospitality, Maharaja Ram Singh decreed that the whole city should be painted a shade of terracotta pink to welcome his guests. On seeing this, Lord Albert exclaimed that Jaipur was “the Pink City”, and the name forever stuck.
The maharaja’s favourite wife is said to have adored the colour and convinced him to pass a law making it illegal for buildings to be painted any other colour than Jaipur pink. This law, passed in 1877, still remains in effect.
UNDER MY SKIN
The Sun Temple is a Hindu temple nestled in peaceful surroundings between two granite cliffs. We were there to commune with the monkeys, who occupy the area and flock to the temple at sunset. It turned out to be quite a steep walk up a hill, and we were disappointed by the filth and trash that litters the entire site, but the ascent was worth it for the dreamy golden view over the Pink City at sunset and the company of the monkeys.
Our tuk-tuk driver assured us that the monkeys were very tame and that we could safely feed them peanuts bought from an eager trader at the foot of the peak. But my joy at communing with one of them turned to shock when it suddenly attacked me, biting me on my back and scratching me.
When we descended into the city again, I went to a hospital for a tetanus and rabies injection. The excellent care I received there became part of my experience of Jaipur.
It was a shocking experience, and one that I’ve been thinking about deeply since. Part human/part monkey, Hanuman is a central character in the Sanskrit epic Ramayana .I read in a cheap guide to the Hindu Gods, bought outside a temple in Delhi, that Lord Hanuman symbolises hope, courage, intellect and devotion.
I have also begun to think of the bite I received as an enduring love bite from India, getting beneath my skin and beckoning me to return.