This post is ‘the end’ of Rajasthan for now.
Sometimes, good things end, as does this brief trip into the past. I am done with Rajasthan after this. Maybe not forever. I have a few trips in mind for the end of the year. We are going through a heatwave. The heat and a severe bout of gastritis conspired to knock me out for a week. I’ve crawled back to my knees this morning, so if my sentences appear disjointed, blame the heat and the stomach bugs.
The last sentence reminds me of another realization: I must improve my writing skills. However, I will write about this discovery another time.
The Magic of Starry Nights.
We drove down from Nahargarh Fort before the guards locked us in for the night. I have spent nights in strange places and on the roads. Whether you spend the night on the hard, tarred surface of the highway, the muddy path next to the road, in an open field, or on a hilltop, the night sky always creates magic.
Some, like one of Bertie Wooster’s ex-fiancees, believe they are like fairies or pixie dust. When I was a child in Delhi, we slept under the open sky at night. No one had air-conditioners those days. We’d pull up the charpoy, spread a sheet on it, and gaze up at the stars before sleep pulled its curtains over our eyes. When I was in school in Nainital, we’d go to the toilet across ‘The First Field’ to pee before going to the dormitory. We’d walk across the gravelly ground, eyes fixed on the heavens, gazing up at the stars.
Magic exists in the starry night. In the Netflix series, ‘Bodkin,’ Seamus says we must always keep a place for mysteries. The world would be poorer if we had answers for everything: our hearts must hold space for wonder.
The Jal Mahal.
But that night, neither wished to spend the night at Nahargarh Fort, looking at the stars. I think we missed a great opportunity, but we also escaped a solid fine. By the time we reached the foot of the hill, it was nightfall. I don’t remember if we ate before standing at the edge of the Man Sagar Lake, looking at the Jal Mahal, lit up and beautiful in the center of the waters. I’ve never been to the Palace: authorities restrict entry to the premises.
The king built it in 1699 CE, and Maharaja Jai Singh II renovated it early in the 18th century. The literal translation of ‘Jal Mahal’ is ‘Water Palace.’ I assume that the tourism authorities restrict visitors from entering the Palace because of its environmental degradation. It does not matter.
I was overjoyed to use my tripod and take some images of the Palace from a distance. Focussing at night is difficult. I didn’t know it then, but the way to do it is to enlarge the image on your rear LCD screen and use manual focus until you get a sharp edge. So, search for edges and keep your aperture at about f8 to ensure you have ample depth of field.
I didn’t do that, so I crouched over my camera, squinting into my rear LCD screen. That was the day my spectacle power increased. Damnation!!
The Duet of the Moon and the Dark Water.
Then, I looked up at the sky. In India, we are trying to develop a dark sky location in one spot. One. Just one bloody spot in the entire bloody country! We are ridiculous!
I couldn’t see the stars, as the light pollution ensured this, but the magnificent moon created its magic while shining over the waters. It was beautiful. The moonlight dancing on the dark waters created abstract patterns and deep mysteries.
I turned my attention to the waters, ignored the Palace, and focused on the patterns as the water and moonshine danced a duet, creating magic every second. Maybe I ought to have focused more on the Palace. Maybe I ought to have focused on the action unfolding on the street. None of this mattered when I saw the interplay between the moon and the black waters. I hope you like the images.
Damn!! I intended to make this a short post! I lied to myself.