Pushkar has been on my bucket list ever since I probably first discovered the joys of traveling! And that urge to visit has only been stoked over the years helped by the fact that it is probably one of the most well photographed and documented places in India; and rightfully so, with arid desert setting, the flaming bright colours and outfits, the men in pristine white herding their cattle and camels or sitting by the road side chaiwallah stroking their royal moustaches. So this year was finally when I could visit the eponymous camel fair and revel in it’s glory and colours and re-engage in my usual lessons in patriarchy.
It helps that my parents are in Delhi so travel to most of North India becomes easier with a base city. We took the Ajmer Shatabdi early on the last Saturday of the Pushkar Fair to reach Ajmer by around noon time. A shared auto and 30 minute bus ride later we reached (along with hordes of other travelers and pilgrims) to Pushkar. Smartly and thankfully we had booked a place to stay already so accommodation was n’t a hassle considering the last few days of the fair are the most crowded with pilgrims. We stayed at the Milkman Guest House (also recommended by the Lonely Planet) and it was sure as hell worth the high ratings! Once you do manage to find the place (after a few confusing and contradictory signs on the road and figuring out which narrow alley to enter) you’re greeted by some of the most friendly and hospitable hosts (and their tiny- sometimes – bawling children)! After a quick round of welcome tea and knowledge sharing my sister and I ventured out to the fair.
To be honest in all my travels across India I had never traveled to a region during an important festival or a fair so I was n’t really sure what to expect or how much of the photographs I had seen would translate into real life. But I must confess Pushkar during the camel fair was every bit of an overload to all my senses as I had imagined!
The resplendently decorated camels and their owners beaming with pride, women in the colourful ghaghra -cholis and intricate silver jewellery, men in their white dhoti – kurtas paired with huge bandhni turbans and canes by their sides, some extremely handsome horses vying for top glory, pyaaz ke kachori and kachoras which were bigger than thaalis, the baba’s by the ghats and the calm in watching the sun set as the evening aarti progresses, the chants while climbing up the hill to Savitri Devi temple, the over powering neon ferris wheels, the rope walkers, the traders with their wares and us jostling through a deluge of human kind. it was an overload of sights, smells and emotions.
Well most of the times I am in awe of our culture and diversity and the lack of knowledge and experience when I travel around our country and this time was no different in that sense, however this time since it was right at the back of Trump becoming the next POTUS and grappling with the after effects of demonetization I probably saw things and people around me in a different light.
Seeing patriarchy glaring at my face as the women under veils made rotis and the “man” of the house sat around, belched and scratched his balls intermittently while counting money. Or old men herding the women of the house around like cattle. Tourists, pilgrims and small businessmen were stranded with their last few notes of legal tender and pretty much going on every day on goodwill and faith. While I would n’t dispense an opinion here, but there is always one thing to be kept in mind that is one of the basic principles of a sound public policy is that it should n’t impartially benefit or disadvantage a certain section of society. And more often that not we the privileged few actually don’t take into account the staggeringly high proportion of our population which gets inadvertently impacted by policies but have no idea how and why, have no way of redresssal and definitely have no means to answer surveys on apps or retweet their messages.
Empathy trumps opinion.
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