All Things Considered

The rattling tindrum turns a sharp corner. ‘Nawalgarh! Nawalgarh!’, hollers the bus conductor from the deck above. All the buses in Rajasthan are doubler deckers. Except that on the second deck, there is no deck. People , animals , precariously hanging bags and baskets, cycles, and children form one indistinguishable pile on top of the roof. The screeching wheels come to an abrupt halt casting all the seated passengers off their seats. I expect something - animate or inanimate- to come tumbling down the roof of the bus. But nothing happens. Inside the bus, men with mountainous turbans elbow each other jostling to make their way out of the sardine can that the bus has become since we boarded in Jaipur. The exercise is less mesomorphic for the women, who use their high-pitched treble instead. A more effective maneuver, it turns out. Little children scurry on the women’s lead and spill out of the bus, gathering in a heap outside. I’m caught in this melee , amidst these bumptious men and women. But given that I’m neither a brawn nor a soprano and need to be out of the bus in the half a minute it stops here, my position turns out perfect. I’m delivered out of the bus in no time at all and catapulted into the heat and the dust of the North Rajasthan afternoon.

I’m in the Shekhawati heartland – the flatland on the wrong side of the Aravallis. I’m familiar with this terrain, this dusty immensity. Four years amidst these mustard fields and thorny shrubs are part of fond Pilani college memories. The cactus flowers and camel carts haven’t changed all that much, but there is a small difference this time. Small, yet significant. I’ve got a new pair of eyes. I’m not anymore the teenager returning to college after the summer vacation. Right now, THIS IS my vacation. A vacation to discover the Shekhawati I’ve never seen. The Shekawati of 17^th and 18^th centuries. The Shekawati of the painted havelis and baoris. The towns that the marwari business men made it to be. I am haveli hunting, here in these painted towns of Shekhawati.

Even more unlikely than the setting of these havelis in this impoverished desert sands are the reasons that led to their creation. Ever since ShekhaRao brought this unenviable land under his command in the 15^th century (Hence the name Shekhawati), the region has mostly been held by his descendants. Many external forces buzzed in and out as overlords – the Mughals , the British, the Marathas – but none held the land directly. The Mughals supplied the first set of artisans who would work in these lands. But, as much as they sowed the seed of art in this land, they also prevented it from taking root. Next in line where the Rajputs who held fort -the literal and the proverbial - here and pledged allegiance to the British. They would later be the first set of patrons that Shekhwati would see. Between the high-tax caravan routes that passed through the princely states of Bikaner and Jaipur lay this small sandy ‘pass’ of Shekawati. The ever-enterprising merchants of the area turned the situation to their advantage and presented a low-tax route through Shekhawati to the huge caravan traffic- caravans transporting everything from textiles to opium from the ports of Gujrat to Mughal capital of Delhi and from the plains of Indus to the plains of Ganges. The taxes paid by these merchants filled up the treasuries fairly quickly and provided adequate funds to nurture the local artisans. This , however, was short-lived. Owing to fiscal pressure , the Jaipuri and Bikaneri kindgom cut taxes a few decades later on the passing caravans, dealing a significant blow to the Shekawati trade. The treasuries evaporated. Dissension and deprivation in the desert gave way to looting and murder. With all the pillaging and plundering , Shekhwati turned into a place called pandemonium in the later part of the 18^th century. Until the British intervened. When the British entered the region, with them came one of the biggest inventions of the Industrial revolution – a better transport system. A fine final blow to the already ruined caravan trade and local economy.

In a masterstroke of irony, it in this misfortune lay the construction boom of havelis. When the local economy died it’s death, the Marwari diaspora ensued. These shrewd and enterprising merchants went to places as far as Calcutta and Bombay to set up new enterprises and excelled in the new business they set up in these new cities. But it was at home - in Shekhawati- lay their honor, their social status, their need to showcase their entrepreneurial successes. With each success came an opulent wedding celebration or a local school, sometimes a local temple and frequently a grand family home – The Haveli. As the last lavish touch to this extravaganza, came the paint and the pigment on these havelis !

The deteriorated paintings on the outer wall of the Gulab Rai Ladia Haveli. Mandawa, Rajasthan.

(To be continued)