Wednesday 10 September 2014

Of Ancient Forts & Houseboats

Ensconced comfortably in the Hyundai Santa Fe, we arrive in India's capital, and commence our onward journey towards Kashmir and, ultimately, Khardung La. This leg charts our progress from New Delhi to Srinagar.


On our last sojourn with the Hyundai Santa Fe, we ended with our arrival in New Delhi. Here's what happened next. Our first stop took us to the Qutub Minar, whose sheer majesty and elegance left me spellbound when I first gazed upon it. I almost cricked my neck too, trying to take in all of the nearly 240 feet (73 metres) of the Minar when I glanced up from underneath its shadow. Going up there would have been amazing too,  but the stampede that occurred along its 379 narrow steps  and cost close to 50 lives back in 1981 put paid to any  chance of that happening, with the entrance to the Minar  having been closed to the public ever since. 

The area surrounding the red sandstone spire of the Qutub Minar throws up some interesting cultural contrasts. The Minar has verses of the Quran inscribed into its sides, and the area also hosts the Quwwat-ul- Islam, India's first-ever mosque. Curiously, the 23.6 feet (7.2 meter) tall Iron Pillar that stands within feet from the mosque was in honour of Hindu god Vishnu, and is covered in inscriptions of the Brahmi script along with Sanskrit. It was actually put up long before the other monuments and can be dated back to AD 402, having been commissioned by then monarch Chandragupta Vikramaditya, and for those who are interested in metallurgy or curious artefacts in general, the Iron Pillar was built with such ingenuity that it still hasn't fallen prey to corrosion or rust all these years later. The Qutub Minar and Quwwat-ul-Islam are relatively younger constructions compared to the Iron Pillar, built in AD 1192 and 1193 respectively. The complex also has ample parking space, and after retrieving the Santa Fe from the parking area, we headed towards our hotel for the night.  As I exited the hotel bright and early in the morning, there it was, gleaming in glorious Wine Red. That's right; Hyundai had given us yet another top-end Santa Fe for our trip up north, and the colour on this one just popped, catching the eye instantly. I couldn't spend too long admiring what would be my ride for the days to follow, as we had a long day ahead of us and had to get cracking.

Our first stop for the day was to be at the beginning of Rajpath, flanked by the Secretariat building, and with the Rashtrapati Bhavan as our backdrop. The Rashtrapati Bhavan is, of course, the mansion that the President of India calls his home for the duration of his tenure, so don't expect it to be featured on an episode of MTV Cribs. The roads of New Delhi are spectacular, and scarcely populated in the early hours of the morning, allowing us to take in all the sights at leisure. Our next stop was just a skip down the road to the India Gate, where prep work for the Independence Day celebration was in full swing.

We also ran across a most singular individual at the India Gate, an elderly gentleman who had rescued (read: bought) a kit of pigeons from an illegal trader, and was in the act of freeing them at this iconic venue while we were there, which I thought was a more fitting tribute to the Independence Day than anything else I had witnessed out there. It would have been remiss of us to leave the area without bowing our heads to the Amar Jawan Jyoti that burns in homage to the Unknown Soldier – the martyrs who pledged and gave their lives for our nation.

We set off to storm the Red Fort (figuratively, of course) next, and 1-Day preparations were under way here too. Not too surprising, considering that the Prime Minister delivers his yearly address from the fort's ramparts and hoists the national flag every Independence Day. So the tight security was understandable. For those with a passion for architecture (or history), the Red Fort is an absolute must-see. The fusion of Indo-Persian sensibilities that were the hallmark of the great Mughal emperor Shah Jahan’s reign is very evident, and this fortified palace made of red sandstone gives off an almost’ mystical glow when the rays of the early morning sun are cast upon it. Only a small section of the fort itself, housing the Diwan-i-Am and Diwan-i-Khas along with the royal chambers, a mosque and the inner gateway that also doubles as a museum is open to public today.

Our last stop in the region was at the Raj Ghat. A ghat is a term used to describe steps descending into a body of water, and the Raj Ghat has been around since Mughal times. What makes the place even more significant, however, is that it was the final resting place of Mahatma Gandhi. The Raj Ghat has now been turned into a memorial to Gandhi and an everlasting flame marks the spot where he was cremated. Two museums dedicated to the Mahatma also exist in the premises. Other neighbouring memorials include Vijay Ghat (dedicated to Lai Bahadur Shastri), Shanti Vana (Pt Jawaharlal Nehru), Shakti Sthal (Indira Gandhi) and Veer Bhoomi (Rajiv Gandhi).

There's a lot more to see in New Delhi, but after a quick jaunt to the famed Connaught Place for a bite, it was time to set out for another historic locale – the battleground of the Mahabharata. Before we got there, though, we had to drive for over 150 km on the Grand Trunk Road (or Asian Highway 2) which allowed me to really step on it for the first time this trip, and the miles melted way as I enjoyed the width and smoothness of this route and really put the Santa Fe through its paces. It was like getting re-acquainted with an old friend, the car and I understood each other perfectly, and the amount of time I had spent behind the wheel allowed me to really push the Santa Fe and make good time. Long drives also mean good music, and this time we were serenaded by the sublime notes of Pink Floyd, as the opening notes to Coming Back To Life came on.

Right at the entrance to Kurukshetra, you are greeted by a sight that is symbolic of the city as a whole. The gated archway into the city has a massive bronze statue of Lord Krishna and Arjuna riding a chariot mounted on top of it, an accurate microcosm for the ethos of Kurukshetra as a whole - a place where old meets new, where tradition meets modernity. Named after both the Pandavas' and Kauravas' ancestor, King Kuru, Kurukshetra today has become an educational hotbed too, along with being a place of monumental religious significance.

Our first stop took us to Brahma Sarovar, a water tank 3,600 feet long and 1,500 feet wide, and the place that Hindu scriptures claim to be the cradle of civilisation, the site where Lord Brahma, 'the Creator', formed the earth through intense yajna or rituals. The place has massive religious pull and is surrounded by a multitude of ghats named after practically every major character of the epic Mahabharata. After taking in the multitude of humanity that was present there, we moved forward to another site of religious significance: Jyotisar.

Jyotisar marks the spot where Lord Krishna delivered the Bhagavadgita and its most prominent teachings of karma and dharma to an indecisive Arjuna on the eve of the Great War. A statue of Krishna and Arjuna depicting this very incident can be found there, and the banyan tree placed on a plinth also attracts its fair share of the devout, as it is under the shade of this very banyan tree that this sermon is said to have been delivered. We also had a chance to stop by Kalpana Chawla Planetarium which can also be found in the Jyotisar region. The planetarium, named after India's first woman astronaut, was built at an expense of Rs 6.5 crore and covers over five acres, allowing visitors to lose themselves in the enigmas of space with the help of cutting-edge technology.

Last on the agenda for Kurukshetra was Bhishma Kund. As the story goes, Bhishma, the pitamah or grandfather of both the opposing Kauravas and Pandavas, fell in battle to Arjuna's arrow. While on his deathbed, he was surrounded by prominent members of both sides of the war, being well respected by all despite his choice to side with the Kauravas. On his deathbed, being thirsty, he asked for some water, and Arjuna immediately whipped out an arrow and shot it into the ground near Bhishma's bed, the force of which caused a natural spring to shoot out and quench his thirst. This natural spring is credited as the origin of the pond that currently occupies the spot at Bhishma Kund, and the well-steps surrounding which have been recently refurbished. There is also a small temple present here to commemorate the event.

Having had our fill of Kurukshetra, we set off towards Punjab and the small town of Pathankot which made for a convenient rest-stop for the night before we ventured back out on to the highway towards Jammu the next day. The road to Pathankot follows the aforementioned Grand Trunk Road and even spills over on to NHi during the latter stages. We had to bypass Chandigarh as part of the route, and decided to stop for lunch at one of the Haveli Heritage chain of restaurants just past Chandigarh. After a scrumptious meal of Punjabi delicacies like chhola bhatura and sweet lassi along with ice-cream for dessert, it was back to the highway, and the Santa Fe was given a chance to show off another one of its excellent features.

It started to drizzle and, as the first few droplets hit the windscreen, the wipers started of their own accord, and as the rain began to intensify, the wiper's speed matched up to it, making my life that much easier. With all the technological wizardry packed under the hood like traction control, 4WD assistance and brake assist, I didn't even have to worry about the slick roads throwing me off my game, meaning our average speed didn't suffer as a result of the downpour. While crossing the Roopnagar region, we also happened upon a gorgeously built Gurudwara just off the highway. As soon as I turned the car in, a feeling of peace and tranquillity stole over me, the blistering afternoon sun, the blaring traffic, the distance we had covered and the long way still to go, all these thoughts that had been swirling in my head just dissipated as a measure of calm stole over me. I wish I could have lingered a little longer in this temple of serenity', but the call of the road was too strong, it was time to leave.

As we passed through Punjab, we were living the stereotype - first the food, then the Gurudwara, and now, the corn fields. It was like a scene out of a Bollywood film, only the hero was a 197-PS behemoth travelling on 18-inch diamond cut alloys. I'm not one to resist a good cliché, so we turned the car off the highway and into an actual corn field, or at least I think it was corn, but then again I never claimed to be a botanist so don't sue me! Regardless, once the Santa Fe was done frolicking about in the farm, it was back to the highway, with Pathankot inching ever closer.

With the light fading and the sky turning into a deep slate of azure peppered with a few brooding clouds, we reached the outskirts of the city, where an intriguing sight met our eyes. The azure of the sky was rent by a more vivid blue, which on closer inspection turned out to be a massive statue of Lord Shiva. So massive, in fact, that it could have smashed the Santa Fe flat and used it as a skateboard if it were to come alive (which it didn't). Less than 30 minutes later we turned off the highway for the last time that day, entered into the town of Pathankot, and called it a day

Waking up in my bed at The Grand Hotel (potential for some epic word play lost right there, if only we had one of Hyundai's hatches too) a place that lives up to its name in all but price, which is very affordable, I was quite excited. Making my maiden venture into Jammu and Kashmir was a galvanising prospect, and I was quickly up and about and ready to hit the road. The road connecting the two cities continued to remain quite decent. It did suddenly converge from a four-lane to a two-lane road at one point, which was disconcerting and could prove to be a major hazard at night, especially for a car that doesn't have the quick steering response of the Santa Fe.

The distance we covered was just a shade over a 100 km, but in the midst of that particular sojourn, we crossed into the borders of Jammu & Kashmir and this came with a significant ramification. Since prepaid mobile phone numbers from outside the State aren't allowed within J&K, I was suddenly devoid of network and the internet, which would have thrown a spanner in the works as regards navigation, but luckily there were others in the car Brahma Sarovar who had brought along postpaid numbers. Something to remember if you plan on making a trip up to J&K. 

On our arrival in Jammu, we stopped at the Mahamaya temple on the outskirts of the city first. No surprises there, considering Jammu is also known as 'the city of temples'. The approach path leading to the Mahamaya temple is worth a visit in itself. A tiny little stretch of tarmac that was scarcely wide enough for the Santa Fe, and was flanked on either side by troop upon troop of monkeys! Remembering the love that primates seemed to have for the Santa Fe in the Periyar National Park at Thekkady on the very first leg of this journey, I was extra cautious when navigating this bit. Local folklore talks of a freedom-fighter called Mahamaya, a member of the Dogra clan, in whose honour this temple was supposedly first erected. The story goes that this firebrand sacrificed her life back in the seventh century in an effort to protect Jammu from foreign infiltrators, and her valour and sacrifice was such that the locals immortalised her memory by elevating her to the stature of goddess. It's fitting then that the temple sits atop a hill which offers a breath-taking panoramic view of the very Jammu valley that Mahamaya martyred herself to save if you do believe the legend. I for one would like to think it was true; the world could always use another hero to draw inspiration from.

We followed up the temple with the Bahu Fort, which, I may add, also doubles up as a temple. This one is dedicated to who I am told is the patron goddess of the land - Kali, or 'Bave Wali Mata' as the locals say. The fort has stood firm for over 3,000 years now, with the temple a relatively new addition, having been built in 1822. The fortification is also surrounded by lush gardens that are well-maintained, and well visited too judging by the crowd there. The Bagh-e-Bahu also plays host to India's biggest underground aquarium, which has been built across a network of over 20 caves, the entrance to which is shaped like a massive fish, and, yes, you do walk in through its wide open mouth. Another temple that is close to the hearts of the Jammu residents is Raghunath Temple. Construction of this temple commenced in 1835, and is dedicated not to a single deity, but instead holds seven different sections for seven prominent gods from the epic Ramayana. The Raghunath Temple does have a sad recent history, though, because in 2002, the temple was twice the target of terrorists, suicide bombers who caused the deaths of 20 people and numerous injuries combined.  

Last on our Jammu agenda was the Amar Mahal. This palace was commissioned by Dogra King Raja Amar Singh in the 19th century and today it has been converted into a museum. If the architecture seems more reminiscent of a chateau in the south of France rather than a north Indian palace, that's because King Amar hired a French architect to build his palace, so it was inspired by le chateaux rather than the more traditional 'mahal's you're more likely to come across in India. Step inside, and you can find the fruits of the labour of Indian maestros such as M F Hussain, J Swaminathan, G R Santosh, Bikash Battacharjee and others adorning the palace walls, along with a very intriguing series of 47 paintings created in the Kangra Ki Kalam style of art. These miniature paintings, when followed chronologically, depict the love story of Nala and Damayanti unfolding from within the canvas. Since everyone in our crew, from the pious to the connoisseur, had been satiated through the variety of fare available in Jammu, we left the winter capital of J&K, and I turned the Santa Fe towards Srinagar.

The roads are immaculate here too, although the going gets slow when you pass through armed forces encampments such as the one at Udhampur. You need to slow down quite a bit when you enter these army areas, as speed limits have been put up and are strictly imposed.

The army presence also manifested itself as we started taking the winding road up the hill to Patnitop, because it was congested by the presence of several army convoys. The tree-cover seems to grow the higher you climb, and Patnitop is quite easy on the eye. A roadside bhuttawala caught our attention at this juncture, and we stopped to enjoy some roasted corn between our explorations. We also checked out Sanasar, placed even higher up the hill than Patnitop, a spot famous for adventure sports and one that offers some stellar views of the surrounding landscape. Driving through the Jawahar Tunnel on the way back down the other side of the hill was a unique experience too. This 2.85-km-long tunnel stands 7.198 feet above sea level, and is closely guarded by a massive army presence, and is also equipped with further security measures such as a tunnel lighting system, CCTV monitoring, emergency phones, and pollution and temperature sensors, along with a much needed ventilation system. Beware, though, of stopping or collecting any digital imagery in and around the tunnel. It is prohibited. A place where you can stop, though, is the curiously named Titanic Point, which you arrive at less than half-a-kilometre before the tunnel. Titanic Point offers a visual treat of the forested valley, and is a good place of respite on this route.

The roads gradually transitioned from hairpins to straights, and after we crossed the hill we stopped for a quick bite of traditional aloo paratha at a roadside dhaba. After quickly gobbling up the delicacy, we pushed on through the 'green tunnel,' a beautiful two-lane road lined with closely placed trees that conjure up illusions of solitude and emptiness. Pretty soon, though, the trees are replaced by little farms and dwellings, and shop upon shop selling famed Kashmiri willow cricket bats. Considering how cricket crazy India is, I wasn't even surprised that hundreds of shops lined the road primarily selling these bats, along with a variety of other local produce thrown in for good measure. A quick stop to check out the wares and we were off again, Srinagar inching ever closer.

At last, small dwellings gave way to concrete structures and traffic started to thicken. A few twists and turns later a shimmering water-body could be seen on the crest of the road. Lined with a kaleidoscope of vibrant hues that could only be houseboats on the one side, and a long line of hotels both big and small, standing shoulder to shoulder on the other, I knew that this could only be the famous Dal Lake. Torn between looking out towards the lake or checking into the hotel, the decision was taken to check in first. The day's excursions may have caught up with us, but the Santa Fe was still running as expeditiously as ever. As I entered the parking lot of the Welcome Hotel, our home for the night, reflecting on the trip just gone by, a thought popped into my head. The adventure may have come to an end for this part, but for my Santa Fe and I, it was only the starting point for another one. Jammu & Kashmir - I was finally here.


Story: Harket Suchde
Published By: Car India

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