I had long known of the name. Miss MacDuff years before taught me that jodhpurs – as in riding trousers – took their name from the Indian city where they were invented. At secondary school I had seen on some prize boards the name of an Indian prince who had won various things such as the Drinkwater Cup for Shooting. He was the Maharajah of Jodhpur. This was yet another reason to visit this city. I had scoured by Lonely Planet for cities to visit in Rajasthan. This seemed a city that was both storied and accessible.
So it was that I decided to pay a visit to this storied city. I set off from Delhi by train – of course! It was an overnight train – if memory serves. At a certain time the lights were switched off. I say in the vestibule area on the floor writing my diary. I also penned a novel that I never completed. How I wish I could find my juvenalia now. This open space was near the lavatory. An Indian-American came and spoke to me asking what I was doing. ”Sitting there doesn’t it stink?” I had to admit that it was malodorous. How I suffered for my art.
Armed police came along flashing a torch. The Railway Protection Force is under the authority of the Government of India. Usually police are controlled by each state. They curtly told me to get to bed. I obeyed.
In the morn we came into Jodhpur. Off I got and into a taxi. It was not as scorching hot as Delhi – we were some way up. Judhpur is not that huge a city – certainly not by Indian standards. The little open land I saw was totally dry. The houses were all blue and white. There were no high rise buildings and the whole place was pleasingly preserved.
I checked into an especially boring hotel in a building with only a few floors. SOme middle aged men played a desultory game of backgammon on the street outside. I caught up on a few Z’s.
The obvious thing to visit in Jodhpur is the Palace of Umaid Bhavan. This enormous and handsome palace was constructed by the Maharajah in the 1930s. It is in a modern Indian style which borrowed some forms from European architecture. So I got myself a taxi to the palace built by Gaj Singhji. They are always called Gaj Singhji the maharajahs of Jodhpur. They are Jats. That is to say they have the surname Singh but they are not Sikhs they are Hindus. Singh means lion so anyone would want such a proud name. the suffix ”ji” is honorific.
The palace was a little way out of town. The desert lay around about and but for the odd thorn bush was barren. What would you expect. The relative isolation of the palace only made it more impressive. It looks like it is made from sandstone and it is a dun colour. There is a huge dome in the midsection and then a wing off to either side. I paid my fistful of rupees for admission.
The palace was opulent inside and very modern. Most Indian palaces I have visited are not like this. A third of it is a private residence for the family. Much of it is open to the public. People can rent out part of the palace. The marble floors and many wall hangings made a very good impression. I am not interior designer and cannot remember too much. I read some of the blurb about the construction of the palace. It created meaningful work for labourers and provided unemployment relief. I could not avoid reflecting that it would have been better to have them work on a project that benefitted the public rather than the most privileged family in Rajasthan.
The other major site in Jodhpur was the fortress. I took a taxi to the far side of the city. Perched on a rock was the mighty and ancient fortress. It is a magnificent sight and evokes all the romance and legend associated with Rajasthan. It is surprising that these sheer walls and dramatic towers have not been used as a film location. I walked up the ramp and under the portcullis. There were many rooms for the tourist to walk through but they were largely bare. I was able to walk on the path on the curtain all. These provided a marvelous and almost panoramic view over the whole city. I heard and Indian guide speaking flawless French to a French tourist whom he was showing around. It was the only time I ever heard and Indian speaking French. I wondered if this man came from Pondicherry. That is the Indian city that was a French colony until the 1950s. In Pondicherry they still keep French going. It could of course be that this chap learnt French later on.
There were old rusting cannon. Other than that there were few artefacts to remind one that people really had lived here and this fort was once fought over.
Later I paid to visit to a cremation site on a nearby escarpment. This was also overlooking the city. There was a ghat or a raised white stone platform covered by a roof. There were several metal handprint shapes on a wall. These supposedly showed the handprints of the women who had committed suti. That is immolating themselves on their husband’s funeral pyre. That was the ultimate act of uxorial devotion. In fact those handprints were far too small to have been made by an adult. I do not think they were real at all. The idea is the metal covered over the shape made by a woman dipping her hand in dye and then placing it on the bare white wall. It was redolent of a scene from the film The Far Pavilions. Evening was drawing on. It was a placid place to watch the sun dip towards the horizon.
I chatted to a young man there. He asked about Ireland and our coins. He showed me his collection of foreign coins. I had not to give him.
As for suti – Hindus are anxious to point out that it was never universally practised. Only in certain districts did this occur. even then most widows did not commit suti. The Britishers in the early 19th century started by restricting it. They forbade widows under 16 committing this ritual suicide. Those intent on putting themselves on their funeral pyre were also examined to ensure that they were not pregnant. VOLUNtary cremation was permitted but no one was to compel a woman to join her late husband on the faggots. Indians often dislike the way imperialists used suti as a reason for British rule to be extended.
I only spent two nights in Jodhpur. Was it even that long? Thereafter I took the train back to the capital city.
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