DESERT HUES

Lovely mud houses, open fields, sand dunes, men with colourful turbans, women with their pallus on their head and decked up with loads of jewellery. These were only some pictures from a book earlier, but now it was all alive in front of me. My partner took a small nap but I was not gonna take even a wink, I wanted to capture every moment in my eyes. The car was speeding fast, so I was not able to hold my video camera with its speed, but I still managed to take some decent shots. I saw some chinkaras too on the highway side, which my partner thought as my mind’s illusion, but then I did show him few when he woke up. We stopped by a small roadside restaurant which our local driver claimed to be the best offering delicious daal bhajiyas on this highway. And indeed they were delicious, spicy. I decided to take the pics of this roadside bhajiyawallah and he was ready to oblige me with different poses. I could now feel the real Rajasthan – its people. All the employees at the restaurant and some bystanders, enthusiastically talked about the daal bhajiyas & the dhaaba.

ON THE BORDER
After a scrumptious meal, we moved on from there, with me looking out of the car window and partner sleeping by my side, We reached our destination – barmer BSF headquarters. Yes! my partner – a defence correspondent, was here to do a story on border area. And I was wondering what am I doing there, I am not the investigative type, not an expert for security or defence. But again, I flowed with the stream. We met the DIG, who happened to be my best friend’s relative, so here there is some connection. My partner did most of the talking and I like a timid school girl asked about local musicians at the end of the conversation. Probably, the DIG thought I was silly and he just politely turned me away to the local market. The local barmer market, is just one long strip of road with shops on both sides. But what struck me the most there was a small local supermarket, which was stocked and well kept like any big shop in the big metros. I didn’t expect this, my idea of market in barmer was local unorganised shops, and I thought I knew the place. We happen to locate a small office of Information & broadcast ministry in the market and bingo I got to talk to people who knew about musicians. Unlike the hostile BSF man’s reaction, I got number of the man who knew the local folk musicians and I was so looking to capture the songs. But was not sure if I will be able to do, reason we were on a mission called – job. So the next day we had to embark to the border area where the Thar express from Pakistan arrives. My partner has to do the news story, so no musicians that day and then for me too it was once in a lifetime experience to go to the gates of India. I can’t miss it. So I did not call that man and went on to Munnabao – the town on the border of India and Pakistan. It was an interesting journey with a very helpful BSF officer as our guide, who did change my perception about BSF hostility that I faced the day before. He showed us a memorial built for some soldiers and rail employees killed in the 1965 Indo-Pak war on our way to Munnabao. It was a simple stone memorial , nothing special, but their one piece of paper neatly tied to the stone which was striking. It was a wedding invitation card, probably of someone who was related to one of the martyrs. A common Indian tradition, of not forgetting the deceased, remembering them in your happiness and sadness. It reflects the India or a world about which I know. We continue with our journey and reach the BSF quarters at Munnabao. The train should arrive in an hour or so announces the BSF officer, so we should go there and may be can talk to people posted there. We reach the gate of India. It is nothing like the fancy Gateway of Mumbai or the martyr’ India gate of Delhi. It is just like another huge iron gate with Welcome to India printed on it. From here you can also see the Pakistan gate which is just 150 yards away. Use a binocular or a good zoom camera and one can capture the hussle – bustle on the zero point railway station on the Pakistani side. The Thar express, which is a weekly train between India and Pakistan, has arrived at the Pakistani station. The Paki station as seen from the binoculars poses a very different site the Indian Munnabao station. One can see lots people, coolies and luggage being carried out here and there. But on the Indian side, Munnabao station is a just like an international airport terminus. This is the only station in India which doesn’t have coolies, there are trolleys for passengers to carry the luggage. It is a high security zone and one is not allowed to photograph it even from outside. We did attempt to do that and were stopped by the Railway police personnel, that too besides we had a BSF official with us.
A Soldier’s LIFE
It was gonna take a while before the Indian gates open as all the passengers were undergoing the mandatory security checks at the Pakistani station. So in the meantime, we talk with the BSF soldiers posted on the border. They show us their camels , which are the only mode for them to travel as they check on the fenced border. I capture a lot of pictures of the camels and their BSF masters. Then I enter this small two storied structure where soldiers on border duty live for most of the hours in their life. They are very small rooms with just two small beds and small space to hang in their cloths. The soldiers enthusiastically show me their ‘home’. I ask them to pose for my cameras and talk about their lives. When they start talking, you meet the real people within the hardcore soldiers. They talked about inflation, house repairs, marriages of their children, wages, ailing parents and holidays. Never expected this from the soldiers who’s only job is to patrol the border twenty-four hours. They tell me how they miss people, the cities, the lights when during cold winter nights they are sitting in the small posts looking at nothing but darkness everywhere. The only light in their life at that moment is the lit up stretch across the border fence. That’s the only road they can see, rest all is dark. A very philosophical statement from the border men. While, I was capturing them on my video camera, one enthusiastic soldier posed for me and asked me to print his photo on the front page of the newspaper. He too wanted to be famous, I did say yes to him that moment. But the truth was I didn’t want his photo to appear on the front page ever, because only dead heroic soldiers photos appears on the front page in the newspapers. I didn’t want him to know the truth, I wanted him to be happy for the moment. He was never going to know or bother if the photo ever appeared anywhere, he never read newspapers or saw any TV. It was an interesting session with the soldiers, whom I had never known except the books. These people were all characters whom I had read about a lot, but never known personally. My first encounter with them as a person was definitely interesting.

TRAIN FROM PAKISTAN
Then the waiting ended. the Thar express had chugged off from the Pakistani station. India’s gates were opened to welcome the neighbours. It was an exciting moment because we were standing right at the gates when it opened up. A step ahead would mean we are infiltrating in to our neighbour’s country. The train was escorted by a team of BSF men from the Pakistani gate to the Indian station. As it chugged slowly in to the India side, it stopped for some time. This is when we got lucky to chat with the passengers. And to my utter surprise I found a woman from Gujarat, who understood Gujarati much better than Hindi. She was from Siddhpur in Gujarat and had gone to meet her aunt in Pakistan. My partner wanted to find out about some constructions coming up on the other side of the border, but the passengers seemed little nervous to talk to strangers and reveal any information. We spoke to two- three men and women, though not much information could be gathered for the news story, it was an interesting attempt. How many people in the country would have done that? The trained started off again to reach its destination the Munnabao station. The passengers will undergo another round of security checks here and then the train would head to Jodhpur, where they can alight to go back to their desired destination. The Thar Express does not allow passengers to alight or board anywhere between Karachi and Jodhpur. They just get down at Zero point on Paki side and Munnabao on India side for security and visa checks. Both these stations are of utmost importance to both the nations as these are the points where lot of people try to sneak in with illegal substances, fake currencies and invalid entries. The BSF official tells us that there have been many instances when people are caught with fake currencies. Though no terrorist would dare to enter from this route with guns, fake currencies are a big nuisance. Thar express is the easiest mode to smuggle fake currencies in to the country. With the train halted at the Munnabao station we too head back to Barmer.

THE ANCIENT TEMPLE
Our news mission was more or less over here. Now we need to move for the next story. But on our way our BSF car driver takes us to another interesting place – ruins of some ancient temples. The temples which belong to the Kiradu dynasty which existed in Barmer in the 11th century are wonderful piece of architecture. Though they are in a very bad state having suffered numerous foreign invasions, the sculptures and carvings on the temple walls and pillars speak a lot about the 11th century culture. There are five temples located at near by distances which now don’t have the deities inside it. The main temple which is said to be built for Lord Shiva and Vishnu, has the most striking features. As you enter the temple , one can hear the sounds of the bats who have made it their home. The main roof of the temple is almost ruined. But the round stone stage with surrounding pillars in the centre of the temple depict that it was a place of worship in those days. Probably the kings and priests used to conduct lots of holy ceremonies on the stone stage in front of the small room where the idols would have been placed. There is an eerie peace inside the temple as if there still souls of the prayer around there. The carvings are similar to lot of temples of those times found in India. There are beautiful statues carved on walls of women in different poses, depicting that there might be the tradition of dance and drama. Interesting in spite of facing numerous attacks the base of the temple appears very strong. the built up and the architecture is far better than what found in modern days. Whenever I visit such ancient sites, I always wonder how did these people manage to built and carve such beautiful piece of art, when they didn’t had nay modern tools. It must be all made using simple stone and wooden tools, yet it is more enchanting than any modern day structures. It is a site covered by the Archaeological society of India, but there seems to be very little care taken of it. There was only one watchman who did not had much idea about the history or any of the pictures carved on the temple. Wish more could be done for such places as they can be turned into amazing tourist spots. unfortunately the modern day people have spoilt some of the walls with their own names carved on few walls, some of the stones seemed to have been stolen from the temple pillars, one can easily make out the replacement slabs. But when the world doesn’t care of the present day, who is bothered about the past legacies. So we move on with some pictures of the structure. to our barmer guest house.

MANGANIYAR MELODIES
Now , I want to try and get to meet the folk musicians, but my partner had other plans , he wants to go to a temple near jaisalmer the next day to do a story and then wants to straight away move to Jaipur. I am in a soup because that plan doesn’t allow me to squeeze in two hours to capture some folk art of rajasthan. But then when you really want something from your heart you get it..and he changed his plans..as his office permitted him to not do the temple story of jaisalmer. Wow, so we decide to devote our next morning to musicians of Barmer -called the manganiyar. I make frantic calls to people referred to me from that small shop in the barmer market. And voila! I set up for some music the next morning. Next day we meet this very enthusiastic and welcoming folk musicians – the manganiyars who live in this very remote area of barmer – the kalakar nagar. It’s built for them by the government but has least of facilities. I meet up Dayam Khan, the man who plays a manganiyar instrument called kartal. Dayam Khan’s brother Fakira is a known manganiyar artist and has traveled many destinations including international tours to play Rajasthani folk music. Fakira is not in town and so Dayam organised a small performance for me. He introduced me to few manganiyar artists who had traveled especially for this small performance from nearby villages. I was overwhelmed to learn about the fact that they are ever enthusiastic people who just want to perform, and it could be for anybody. It was a magical moment, because I was meeting these bunch of performers who had no qualms of a big artist and were ever ready to sing and play music. Despite the fact that they are as talented in their art form as any other renowned artist would be. They were the truly down to earth people. I interviewed this 70-year-old Nageh Khan , who was the oldest in the bunch and a veteran who knew a lot about the mangniyar history. He told me how this community was named . Apparently, in ancient times, they belonged to this low caste in the society and were involved in singing, dancing at the courts of kings and rich landlords. They performed during childbirths, marriages or any events of celebrations. Once in the king’s court they performed and the king wanted them to give some gift. They asked the king to give them his necklace or haar. The king did gave them the haar and also titled them ‘Mangniyar- maanga-haar’ So manganiyar -literally means the people who asked for the necklace. After that these community of about thousand odd families now is known as manganiyars. Their only profession is to perform. They are not those who are trained formally in music by gurus or teachers, have never been inducted to music schools. Whatever their art is , it has been passed on to them from generations. And they have been successful in keeping it alive. Unlike many art forms in India which have died a silent deaths, because the next generation was not keen to take it on, these manganiyars are making sure their art never dies. Even today their children learn the musical form, though they go to modern schools, they do not dream of anything else but to become a manganiyar musician.