Kishangarh? Roopangarh? The names don't ring a bell. Yes, Kishangarh sounds like the setting of a Bollywood movie but then it has no existence outside of 35mm, right? As for Roopangarh, you wouldn't know where to start looking for it on a map. Well, we thought we could find it sooner on terra firma - somebody mentioned it lay on the route from Kishangarh to the Sambhar salt lake - and went looking for it
ON THE ROAD
It was already 5pm by the time we hit the road in a Ford Endeavour Thunder+. The late start meant that our first 150km up to Behror on NH-8 were quite 'busy'. Cruising was out of the question, and progress meant constantly toying with the brake and accelerator pedals, although, much to the torquey 3-litre motor's credit, gear shifts were minimal.
Post Behror, though, the highway opened up and we made brisk progress, losing only a few minutes at the four remaining toll plazas. And if you're wondering how many there were altogether on the 393km journey, the answer is seven. As for the amount paid, well, we shelled out Rs 258 one-way, which is more than the Delhi-Kishangarh bus fare!
We had dinner at a small hotel on the Jaipur bypass, and then cut loose on the six-lane Jaipur-Kishangarh Expressway, the speedo needle resolutely stuck to the 130kmph mark.
At midnight, seven hours and three meal breaks after leaving Delhi (yes, we are gluttons), we reached Kishangarh, which, needless to say, had turned in for the night a while ago. Thankfully, the guard at the Phool Mahal Palace came out at the first honk and the town was spared a general scare in the middle of the night.
KISHANGARH
Post Behror, though, the highway opened up and we made brisk progress, losing only a few minutes at the four remaining toll plazas. And if you're wondering how many there were altogether on the 393km journey, the answer is seven. As for the amount paid, well, we shelled out Rs 258 one-way, which is more than the Delhi-Kishangarh bus fare!
We had dinner at a small hotel on the Jaipur bypass, and then cut loose on the six-lane Jaipur-Kishangarh Expressway, the speedo needle resolutely stuck to the 130kmph mark.
At midnight, seven hours and three meal breaks after leaving Delhi (yes, we are gluttons), we reached Kishangarh, which, needless to say, had turned in for the night a while ago. Thankfully, the guard at the Phool Mahal Palace came out at the first honk and the town was spared a general scare in the middle of the night.
KISHANGARH
The Phool Mahal Palace on the bank of the Gundalao Lake
Phool Mahal Palace stands between the Gundalao Lake and the Kishangarh Fort, both of which had been nearly invisible under the cover of the night. But in the morning, they redefined the landscape completely. The Fort, although not so large as its Jodhpur cousin, towers above the palace like a hill. It is a maze of buildings, and off-limits to all but the royal family and its guests. As for the lake, we were in luck because it held water after almost 20 years. Scanty rainfall and obstructed water channels had played havoc with it down the decades.
The old Kishangarh lay at the foot of the fort, and it seemed to have largely stuck to its old ways. True, we found a Swift, some Altos and 800s parked before houses, but the town's defining image was one of carts and cows. Going through its lanes - not easy in a six-feet-wide SUV - we were of as much interest to the locals as their morning repast of blood-red jalebis was to us.
If the town seemed caught in a time warp, the feeling was even stronger inside the fort. Old carriages, fading paintings, silent fountains, dark galleries… they were proof of the splendorous life those strong walls had witnessed in the first 350 years of their existence. And now, five decades after the Kishangarh royals had vacated the fort, they stood stonily silent, as if sworn to secrecy.
ROOPANGARH
The old Kishangarh lay at the foot of the fort, and it seemed to have largely stuck to its old ways. True, we found a Swift, some Altos and 800s parked before houses, but the town's defining image was one of carts and cows. Going through its lanes - not easy in a six-feet-wide SUV - we were of as much interest to the locals as their morning repast of blood-red jalebis was to us.
If the town seemed caught in a time warp, the feeling was even stronger inside the fort. Old carriages, fading paintings, silent fountains, dark galleries… they were proof of the splendorous life those strong walls had witnessed in the first 350 years of their existence. And now, five decades after the Kishangarh royals had vacated the fort, they stood stonily silent, as if sworn to secrecy.
ROOPANGARH
The Roopangarh Fort palace, with its dark inner defence in the background
Raja Kishan Singh, founder of Kishangarh and brother of the (now) controversial Jodha Bai, built Kishangarh Fort in 1611 AD. Thirty eight years later, Roop Singh, fifth king of Kishangarh, built a new fort 30km away and named it Roopangarh after himself. Soon, a town came up around the fort, and it served as the state's capital for almost 100 years.
Since the Sambhar Salt Lake was our next quarry, and one of the routes to it lay past Roopangarh, we decided to head that way. Wisely so, as the newly surfaced SH-7 (which connects Kishangarh to Roopangarh, Kuchaman and Sangaria) had practically no traffic, and the Thunder+ could be given free rein.
Roopangarh, though, was not like the highway at all. The lone street through the village-town was crowded, and thoroughly unsuited to the wide Thunder+. Mercifully, after a 10-minute crawl, we reached the fort, where a warm lunch awaited us. Although smaller than the sum of Kishangarh Fort and Phool Mahal Palace, the Roopangarh property was visually more striking. Especially, the square inner defence with its stout bastions and secret passageways.
SAMBHAR LAKE
Since the Sambhar Salt Lake was our next quarry, and one of the routes to it lay past Roopangarh, we decided to head that way. Wisely so, as the newly surfaced SH-7 (which connects Kishangarh to Roopangarh, Kuchaman and Sangaria) had practically no traffic, and the Thunder+ could be given free rein.
Roopangarh, though, was not like the highway at all. The lone street through the village-town was crowded, and thoroughly unsuited to the wide Thunder+. Mercifully, after a 10-minute crawl, we reached the fort, where a warm lunch awaited us. Although smaller than the sum of Kishangarh Fort and Phool Mahal Palace, the Roopangarh property was visually more striking. Especially, the square inner defence with its stout bastions and secret passageways.
SAMBHAR LAKE
Salt heaps on the Sambhar Lake bed
Lunch over, we set out for the Sambhar Lake. Spread over some 230sq km, it is said to be the largest salt water lake in India. However, it's only in the monsoon that the entire lake bed is covered with water, and then no more than 3m deep at its deepest. The smooth highways were now left behind as we took the route to Sambhar city via Bhadoon and Sinodiya. Not that it mattered as the Thunder+ was completely at home on the broken tarmac and sandy stretches.
The only traffic we now encountered was stray tractor trolleys and jeeps, both frighteningly unpredictable in their trajectories, but a little excitement on the way was all right! Suddenly, we realised we were driving along the lake bed.
Clouds had been creeping up upon us as we traced doughnuts on the lake bed, the sand squelching out water under the mass of the Thunder+ and its four beefy occupants. Finally, when the clouds came too close for comfort, we hit the road to Sambhar city, which was still some 17km away. Our getaway was perfectly timed, as we could see the rain falling on the part of the lake we had just left behind. We fl ed to the accompaniment of thunderclap.
Source: http://indiatoday.digitaltoday.in
The only traffic we now encountered was stray tractor trolleys and jeeps, both frighteningly unpredictable in their trajectories, but a little excitement on the way was all right! Suddenly, we realised we were driving along the lake bed.
Clouds had been creeping up upon us as we traced doughnuts on the lake bed, the sand squelching out water under the mass of the Thunder+ and its four beefy occupants. Finally, when the clouds came too close for comfort, we hit the road to Sambhar city, which was still some 17km away. Our getaway was perfectly timed, as we could see the rain falling on the part of the lake we had just left behind. We fl ed to the accompaniment of thunderclap.
Source: http://indiatoday.digitaltoday.in
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