CLEAN SWEEP

fort terrace and garden

Sunrise in Dhariyawad. The Congress Party has swept the board. The spoils must be divided - small groups of male activists gather on the lawn below the hotel terrace. I watch the not-Maharaja mingle, affable, contented. Seeking greater privacy, a couple drift away. The elder gives instructions. The younger nods. Victory music blares from loud speakers in the bazaar. Later starts the victory procession. The not-Maharaja leads in his jeep. Small hatchbacks follow, motorcyclists two abreast. A tight group of women in sari glad-rags smile respectful support from beyond the arches - so much for equality of the sexes. The procession moves away through the bazaar and market square. The music stops. I am in search of an ATM. The majordomo leads, murmuring greetings left and right - a semi-semi royal progress. I follow in his footsteps – traditionally the woman's place. The ATM won't pay. Bloody Hell... Back to the Fort and back to work.
Firecrackers and drum beat herald Congress foot-soldiers. The brave spill through the archway into the Fort's parking lot. A fresh fire-cracker volley and drum roll encourages the timid. They have come to pay homage only to find the not-Maharaja absent. More fire crackers, more rattle of drums, then off they troop, supporters of no importance now the vote is in.

WHY VISIT DHARIYAWAD?

There is no logical reason for visiting Dhariyawad. To get there you take National Highway 79 east from Udaipur and turn south after Bhatewar down a crumbling single track road for fifty Ks – not a comforting experience for the nervous. The road passes through a forest, mostly teak. Teak, when shedding its leaves, looks more dead than alive. The forest is a wild-life sanctuary. Langur monkeys are common – as they are elsewhere. The fortunate may spot four-horned antelope, niglai, possibly a jackal or hyena. The miraculously fortunate (or imaginative) may even spot a panther stalk the shadows – though I doubt that even the evening flight of giant flying squirrels warrants the drive. So let me offer a very different experience: a rest from sight-seeing, escape from the tourist route.
Dhariyawad is an Indian country market town at the confluence of the Jakham and Karmoi rivers. No havelis here tarted up as guest houses, no restaurants promising veg and non-veg, Chinese, Italian, Continental (all of which taste the same), no tiresome tourist touts. Drive through the market and through the bazaar. At the T-junction turn right through the pointed key-hole arches emblazoned with a radiant sun smiling over a Rajput moustache - the massive wooden doors should be open - and you enter a 16th century mini Paradise. This is the domain of the eldest living son of the eldest son of the last Maharaja of Dhariyawad. The sixteen spacious rooms and suites offer total peace, comfortable beds, comfortable easy chairs and always a desk. Bathrooms are huge, water hot, proper towels. Dine outdoors on the terrace or upstairs in the dinning room. I am here for full moon. What could be more romantic?
Only at breakfast do I realise why I feel so at home. The Fort has the feel of a small manor house in an English village or off a Cathedral Close, though too small to be a Bishop's palace. Arches are a different shape, servants more numerous, home-made marmalade marginally less chunky. But the feel is there, peaceful, unpretentious, timeless, embedded in the community. What joy to be able to stay a month, ride horse-back, bird watch, explore tribal villages, wander the bazaar without being nagged with buy buy buy. Yes, and tell tall tales later of the panther seen while following a forest guide...