Tag: rajasthan

Discovering Rajasthan: Bollywood and Traditional Thali Experiences

September, 23, 2025

He said Rajasthan. A young man from Rajasthan offered landscaping services at my door.  A wonderful place that we visited a few years ago with a guide, Shyaam. The memories that popped up overwhelmed me and I engaged in a discussion with the fellow at the door about the desert and the havelis in his home state. One highlight of our trip was Jaipur.

Jaipur, the capital of Rajasthan, is a city with a population exceeding two million. The drive from Agra took more than six hours. On the way, we stopped to have a thali lunch. They served it on a large metal plate (they also call the plate a thali), on which they arranged many small dishes around the edge, filled with ingredients such as yogurt, dal, vegetables, and chutney. Rice and chapati went in the middle of the thali dish. Eating was done with your fingers; these highway restaurants had a sink at one end of the room where you washed your hands before and after eating. Shyaam explained that the idea behind thali was to offer six different flavors: sweet, salt, bitter, sour, astringent, and spicy on one plate. According to Indian food customs, a proper meal should perfectly balance all these flavors. I was unsure what perfect balance meant among flavors, but we enjoyed the meal and improved our eating skills with our fingers.

The highlight of our stay in Jaipur was seeing and experiencing a Bollywood movie at the Raj Mandir Cinema. The movie house was a large circular building similar to an opera house, where there must have been at least one thousand seats, all occupied, quite a contrast to the smaller theaters we are used to in Canada, which are hardly ever filled.

The film had a cute and typical storyline: a boy falls in love with a girl who rejects him. Both the boy’s and the girl’s families reject romance, and the boy loses sleep, his job, and upsets his family. There are fights between the boy and the girl’s friends in various locations where the boy gets beaten up, but his disheveled hair and clothing are still picture-worthy. The girl’s and the boy’s relatives try to stop the relationship. Then the girl makes a telephone call, after which she disappears. Boy tracks down the baddies and rescues the girl who cries. There were singing and dancing events in various locations, but ultimately, the girl falls for the boy, and the relatives decide the boy is not so bad. The story ends with a large wedding with lots of singing and dancing. This storyline is, apparently, quite typical of Bollywood movies.

What I found more interesting than the movie was how the audience reacted to the scenes with clapping, singing, approving comments, and a loud reception. There was cheering when the boy enticed the girl and booing when the villains lost fistfights. At the wedding at the movie’s end, the entire audience was on their feet, cheering. It was a genuine experience in audience participation and quite a contrast with what I am familiar with, where even people with a cough are shushed by the other moviegoers.

We stayed at the Bissau Palace. The descendants of the royal family ran the hotel/palace (and lived on-site), and the hotel was one of the very few in Jaipur recognized by Indian authorities as a genuine Heritage Hotel. Set back from the iron gates within a village-like compound, it featured a temple, shops and a sizeable pool. The exterior of this century-old building needed some paint and maintenance, but the ramshackle look added to the charm; in fact, renovations would ruin the vibe. But our room was faultless and spotless, featuring hand-painted ceilings, lead-light windows (decorative glass supported by lead cames), and old-fashioned wooden furniture. And the food was native Indian to our liking.

Udaipur’s Heritage: Lake Pichola Hotel Experience

March 11, 2025

The Lake Pichola Hotel

Shyaam, our guide, had reserved a room at the Lake Pichola Hotel in Udaipur, Rajasthan. This opulent heritage hotel, formerly Piplia Haveli, was built in the eighteenth century as a private residence for the Jagirdars (nobility) of Thikana Piplia. The hotel’s corridors were adorned with royalty images, illustrating Udaipur’s rich history and property. The owner of the Lake Pichola Hotel is a descendant of the rulers of Udaipur and has taken over the management of this heritage hotel.

Our large, comfortable room faced Lake Pichola and opened onto a balcony with windows all around. The balcony was furnished only with sumptuous pillows, reminiscent of harem rooms we had seen in pictures; it looked incredibly inviting after a long drive. We relaxed on the cushions, enjoying the beautiful views of the lake, the Udaipur Palace across the water, and the Oberoi Hotel, where James Bond’s “Octopussy” was filmed. As we sipped our drinks, we watched women at the lakeside washing laundry, a stark reminder of the contrasts between wealth and poverty in India.

According to Oxfam, seventy-three percent of the wealth generated in 2017 went to the top one percent of the population. The number of billionaires increased from nine in 2000 to over one hundred in 2017. I reflected on these numbers, but seeing poor people washing clothes in the lake opened my eyes.

We met our guide, Shyaam, in the hotel dining room, where authentic Indian food was served. By then, we were running low on rupees, and many of the smaller stores we visited either did not accept dollars or charged exchange rates that seemed exorbitant. We asked Shyaam where we could exchange our U.S. dollars for rupees. Although he did not mention any ATMs or banks, he suggested a contact of his who offered money exchange services. It sounded dubious, but he claimed we would get the best exchange rate from this contact. We decided to take a chance on his offer, partly because we trusted Shyaam, who worked with the travel company Intrepid, and partly because we didn’t see any other options.).

The next day, we walked up the street to an office address and entered a small room on the main floor. Some people were working in the back office. We sat in the waiting room, hoping that Shyaam had indeed arranged a meeting with his contact, the money changer. We waited, uncertain of what to expect, until a dapper, well-dressed gentleman in a suit and tie, carrying a briefcase, entered the room. He asked if we were Shyaam’s clients, and when we confirmed that we were, he set down his briefcase. He then inquired how much money we wanted to convert and informed us of the exchange rate he offered. It was a better rate than the banks charged, and our only concern was whether his money was legitimate or counterfeit.

The money changer seemed honest, so we decided to exchange some currency, although not as much as we had initially planned, to be cautious in case the bills were counterfeit. He examined our dollars individually, selecting only the ones in excellent condition without tears. After calculating the equivalent amount in rupees, he opened his briefcase filled with rupees, counted out a stack for us, and handed it over. There was no official receipt, and he left immediately after the transaction. I remain uncertain about whether this market activity was legitimate in Udaipur. I wondered if it might have been part of a black market; India likely has various money exchange options. Another thought that crossed my mind was whether Shyaam was involved in this exchange—whether he was assisting clients as a tour guide for a major travel company or if he was part of the transaction and receiving payoffs. However, we had no issues with the money the money changer provided us.

With our newly acquired rupees, we walked toward the center of Udaipur, climbing a hill in search of the famous miniature paintings, sized 4″ x 12″. This art form originated in the sixteenth century, with artists creating these paintings as memoirs for kings, capturing important historical events. The paintings depict vignettes of a king’s life from the past, and even today, they are created and sold as decorative art.

The artists use a meticulous process to manufacture pigments and colors from scratch. We stopped at several stores to admire these paintings. Unable to resist, we decided to purchase a few as souvenirs. They were beautiful and unique to Udaipur and easy to transport due to their small size. Although we could have bought them unframed for easier transport, we opted for framed pieces, which cost much less than a frame at home. 

As we left the store, we spotted an elephant coming up the hill toward us. A mahout was riding on the elephant, sitting more than ten feet off the ground. I quickly grabbed my camera to take a picture. However, as soon as the mahout noticed me, he began protesting and waved both hands, trying to stop me from taking the shot. He made the international gesture of asking for money by rubbing his fingers together with his palm facing upwards. Even if I had wanted to give him money, I couldn’t have reached him, and it was clear he wasn’t planning to stop the elephant or dismount.

Suddenly, the elephant started to pee, creating a river streaming down the asphalt. I couldn’t believe the volume that came out! I felt grateful to be wearing closed-toe sandals at that moment. I noticed some tourists walking behind the elephant, trying to capture the scene on camera, but maintaining a safe distance to avoid the chaos. All of them were wearing open-toed sandals. I felt sorry for them but was reminded once again why open-toed footwear isn’t the best choice for sightseeing.

Our wanderings in Udaipur took us to the City Palace, an imposing structure with a 250-meter frontage and several entrances. This multi-level complex stands 30 meters high and is beautifully situated on a hilltop. The upper floors overlook Lake Pichola, providing excellent views.

The palace was constructed entirely from marble and granite, with construction beginning in 1576 and continuing for four centuries. It is an interconnected complex made up of various palaces built by successive dynasties.

I remember how we had to navigate many staircases to explore the building, which left us feeling quite exhausted. However, it was a remarkable historical and cultural journey. We admired stunning wall paintings, intricate murals, exquisite marble work, detailed inlay work, and remarkable architectural features, including cupolas, domes, towers, and balconies.

After a few weeks on the tour, I felt overwhelmed by the many palaces and forts I had seen. By this point, I preferred conversing with local people rather than admiring centuries-old artifacts, no matter how beautiful or historically significant they were. I found discussions with tuk-tuk drivers about their families fascinating, even though many did not speak English. While I still appreciated history, I realized traveling became much more fulfilling when interacting with the local residents.

The Lake Pichola Hotel.

Exploring the Rat Temple in Bikaner and other Unique Cultural Experiences

March 9, 2025

Rat Temple and Local Fair


Traveling in India never ceased to surprise us with its diversity in languages, food, and beliefs rooted in thousands of years of history and customs. One example of a remarkable story and a highlight of our journey was visiting the Rat Temple in Bikaner. In this temple, rats are considered holy and revered.


The origin of the Rat Temple dates back to the fourteenth century. According to legend, the Goddess Karni Mata lost her youngest son, Lakhan, who drowned. In her grief, the Goddess commanded Yama, the god of death, to bring Lakhan back to life. Yama, however, explained that he could not do so but that Karni Mata (an incarnation of Durga, the Goddess of war, power, and protection) could restore her son’s life. Karni Mata decreed that her family would be reincarnated as rats.

Today, around six hundred families claim to be descendants of Karni Mata. These descendants maintain the temple, clean up after the rats, and prepare food for them, often sharing meals in their presence.

To enter the temple and enjoy the experience of 20,000 black rats running freely, you must be barefoot, as some rats may even scurry over your feet. Upon entering, we removed our shoes and felt the rats scampering across our toes. This experience is certainly not for the faint-hearted! A deep sense of emotion ripples through the worshippers when they spot an albino rat, which is believed to bring good luck. Kathy spoke with several visitors who had made the trip, hoping to see a white rat to enhance their fortune. Unfortunately, on the day we visited, we didn’t see an albino rat or anyone else. We stepped outside the temple for refreshments and regained our sense of reality.

Our next stop left a deep impression on me. Our guide, Shyaam, took us to a local festival with arts and crafts, Rajasthani foods, and entertainment. Although the festival’s nature was familiar and similar to North America’s, the begging scene that enveloped us shocked me. Beggars were prevalent, and Westerners present were their primary focus.

The most grotesque and upsetting memory that I have is of a skinny, undernourished boy of maybe ten years of age who had only one leg and was running after me on his two hands and his one leg like a spider, reaching with one hand to me begging for anything. I was unable to escape him. His tenacity forced me to leave the venue and go to the parking lot before he would leave me alone. He chased me from the festival!

I felt sick to my stomach and dispirited to see this deformed beggar. I read about the maiming of children by the begging mafia in India who steal children and maim them to make them more profitable in begging, but seeing one was awful. It was the most disturbing experience that I had in India. Although I read Rohinton Mistry’s Fine Balance and we had gone to see the Slumdog Millionaire film before we went to India, seeing the slums and the beggar children in real-time was shocking. Seeing this poor, deprived child made me think about the unfortunate circumstances that led to his life in begging.


Still, I knew that despite being a tough moral choice, giving to beggars inevitably meant being swarmed, overwhelmed, and in danger of physical harm in such crowded situations (we had such experience in Asia).


When driving, Shyaam delighted us with his discussion of the unique aspects of Indian culture. On our drives, he explained to us the caste system of India, which he was proud of. He was a Singh, implying the second highest caste: the warriors and rulers. Military service ran in his family. Caste, we learned, does not guarantee wealth or even education, but it imparts status. Shyaam was a tour guide and lived a modest life. He explained Brahmins were priests and teachers, comprising the highest caste. Next to the warriors were the farmers, traders, and merchants, followed by the laborers. The Dalits were outcasts, the street sweepers (and not part of the caste system).

Interestingly, India’s history includes a prime minister who was a Dalit, and many merchant classes have become quite wealthy. I was initially unsure about the meaning of the caste system, especially since individuals from various backgrounds could become prime ministers or pursue higher education, leading to what we might describe as an upper-class lifestyle filled with money and possessions. We observed that the caste system was more apparent in the North of India, where there are more Hindus, compared to Chennai or Tamil Nadu, which has a more diverse population that includes non-Hindus.

We had an interesting discussion with our guide about ultrasounds for pregnant women, which Shyaam explained can be dangerous for women. I was about to debate with him when Kathy quietly suggested that I stay silent on the topic. I understood that in India, there is a preference for boys because they provide support to the older generations, benefit from a dowry when they marry, and light their parents’ funeral pyres. Having a boy ensures that the family name continues.

I’ve read that there is a worsening gender imbalance in India. In 1994, a law was passed to address this issue; the law discourages prenatal sex determination, monitors these procedures, and prevents the gender imbalance that could lead to a shortage of women for marriageable men. The murder of baby girls has become an ethical concern in India, according to articles I’ve come across

Jainism and the Ranakpur Temple: Understanding the Principles

March 7, 2025


During our journey from Jaisalmer to Udaipur in Rajasthan, India, we stopped to visit a Jain temple in Ranakpur. After a long walk, we arrived at the temple’s entrance. Upon entry, the building’s dress code mandated covered knees and shoulders. Despite the temperature being in the upper 30s Celsius outside, the dress code prohibited sleeveless shirts. Fortunately, we were well-prepared to meet this requirement since we always wore long-sleeved shirts and pants while traveling.


Temple entry required removing all leather items, such as wallets and belts. Jain temples prohibit leather because producing it involves killing animals, directly contradicting the core Jain principle of “Ahimsa,” or non-violence. The temple provided lockers for visitors to store their items, and we had to improvise to keep our pants up after removing our belts.


At the entrance, we saw a sign advising women not to visit the temple while menstruating. This caught my attention, so I decided to research the source of this custom online. A social media comment explained, “In India, people are not allowed to visit a temple unbathed or in dirty or unwashed clothes.” Similarly, temple authorities prohibit any bleeding man or woman from entering, to maintain the temple’s purity and hygiene.


People have practiced Jainism, an ancient religion with more than five million followers for over five thousand years. It is based on the principle of peaceful coexistence and offers guidelines for living harmoniously with others. I was ready to become a follower. Unlike many other religions, Jainism does not worship a God; its followers revere the Tirthankaras. Jainism admires the 24 Tirthankaras—enlightened teachers or saints—for their teachings and wisdom, but does not worship them. They have achieved liberation from the endless cycle of birth and death.

A vegetarian diet is essential for all Jains, reflecting the core principle of non-violence or non-injury. Jains are very conscientious about their food choices. For example, they avoid root vegetables, such as potatoes, because harvesting them results in the death of the entire plant. Many Jains also operate animal shelters throughout India, showcasing their commitment to this principle.


We learned that the Ranakpur Temple is one of the largest and most significant temples in Jain culture, recognized as one of the five most sacred sites for Jains. Remarkably, a dream inspired Darna Shah, a local Jain businessman, to build the temple in the fifteenth century. Of the renowned artists and sculptors he invited to submit designs for the temple, architect Deepak presented a plan that profoundly impressed Darna. Deepak promised to create a temple based on Darna’s vision. The king of the province provided land for the temple and suggested building a town near the temple, which has become Ranakpur.

The temple covers an area of nearly 48,000 square feet. It includes 29 halls and 80 domes, all supported by 1,444 intricately carved marble pillars, each uniquely designed. Four distinct doorways lead into its chambers. These chambers ultimately guide visitors to the main hall, where the statue of Adinath, the first spiritual leader of the Jains, is located. Remarkably, you will arrive in the central courtyard regardless of which of the four entranceways you choose.


The temple’s architecture is so well-designed that artificial lighting is unnecessary; natural sunlight illuminates the entire building. Construction began in 1389 and finished in 1458. The numerous openings and high ceilings kept the air inside significantly cooler than the scorching temperatures outside during our visit.

Exploring the Thar Desert: A Unique Rajasthan Adventure

March 6, 2025

While driving through the Thar Desert, the temperature soared into the upper 40s Celsius. Despite the heat during our travels in Rajasthan, our trip was filled with unique experiences, including an Ayurvedic massage, a camel ride in the desert, and accommodation in a Maharaja’s palace.

Many Maharajas lost their wealth and status after India gained independence, forcing them to find new ways to make a living. Many were left with nothing but their palaces, which they transformed into hotels. Our room in one of these palaces had an authentic atmosphere characterized by heavy curtains to keep the heat and noise out, aging period furniture, and a slightly musty smell. It was huge by North American standards. The luxurious palace made us feel important while we stayed there.

We had arranged for an Ayurvedic massage, advertised in the palace’s lobby, to be performed in our hotel room. Ayurveda, a practice that has been around for over five thousand years, focuses on balancing the body and mind. Practitioners use hot oils to promote healing and restore imbalances, and we were eager to experience it.

Two young therapists arrived—one woman and one man. Their English was limited, but they instructed me to lie on one bed and undress to my shorts, while Kathy undressed to her bra and shorts on the other bed. The therapists, dressed in business attire, covered our faces with towels before opening massive suitcases filled with various oils.

The room was quiet, and the warm oils, infused with fragrant herbs, helped us relax. I remembered a massage I experienced in Thailand, which ended with painful toe pulls. In contrast, the Ayurvedic massage was incredibly soothing.

The therapists advised to remain on the bed after the massage to allow the oils to seep into our skin until they dried and removed toxins. We had no trouble relaxing further; we were half-asleep by that point. After an hour of blissful peace, we got up to explore Jaisalmer (population 65,000 in 2011, 90% Hindu).

Walking around the city was challenging due to the narrow streets and roaming cows. At one point, a group of cows blocked Kathy as she tried to navigate her way. Many towns in India have laws against cows wandering freely, but Jaisalmer is an exception, marking our first encounter with numerous cows meandering about. (Cows are considered sacred by Hindus).

It was hard not to feel sorry for the cows, many of whom appeared half-starved and abandoned. I learned that volunteer veterinarian groups from overseas come to India to trim the cows’ hooves, allowing them to walk more comfortably. We often saw people feeding the cows before having their meals in the mornings. In the evenings, the cows usually rested or slept at the edges of the streets, having nowhere else to go.

On our way back to the hotel, we met an Indian man from Britain who expressed great disappointment in visiting his hometown. Contrary to his childhood experience, he found Jaisalmer to be backward and dirty. While we accepted what we saw as the norm, he wished the local government had done a better job in the city.

Our overnight camel safari in the desert began the following day. Due to the camels’ unique characteristics, we were advised to wear long pants to prevent irritation from their swaying and straw-like hair. Sunglasses and face coverings were also recommended in case of a sandstorm.

The safari started with a challenge: how do you get on a camel? We learned that when the camel is seated on all fours, one should climb up onto the saddle attached to its hump and lean back to avoid falling forward when the camel stands up, starting on its hind legs.

We began our camel trip on the outskirts of Jaisalmer, where we felt strange riding a camel. The roads were busy with motorcycles, trucks, bicycles, and two-wheeled camel carts with used airplane tires. People used camels as work animals. I initially thought I needed to control the camel in the traffic, but I quickly learned that this was not the case—camels listen only to their masters. In addition, our camels seemed to know exactly where to go.

Our leader walked beside his camel until we left the town and entered the desert. My camel followed the guide, a Raika tribesman. Kathy rode behind me, followed by two tribesmen and three additional camels carrying our gear.

The desert gradually enveloped us, and we continued riding in the heat until the leader suddenly stopped and unfolded a small prayer rug for himself to kneel and pray on. We also dismounted and stretched our legs to relieve any stiffness. Resuming the trip, we knew how to mount the camels.

At our camp, a couple of tribesmen set up an open-front tent equipped with cots and a small toilet tent for us. They also erected a collapsible table with chairs while the cook prepared our meals a short distance from our camp.

The temperature dropped significantly after sunset. The cook prepared mouth-watering curries for us, and we finished our meal with hot chai tea infused with cloves, cinnamon, and cardamom. A spectacular view of millions of stars in the sky appeared when darkness had fully descended.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a Gypsy family appeared with musical instruments. They began to play music next to our campfire, which was fueled by camel dung. The young girls started dancing in flowing, gold-braided dresses while their parents played unique musical instruments I had never seen before. The entire Gypsy family was dressed in colorful embroidered shirts and skirts, with the father wearing a turban on his head.

After the performance, we relaxed on our cots, gazing at the countless stars outside our open tent. I found myself wondering if the Gypsies were simply nomadic people who happened to see us in the desert or if, more likely, the organizers of our tour had arranged for them to perform for us.

Before drifting off to sleep, I thought about how majestic the camels were, with their slow, ambling gait. I also reflected on the Raikas, a local tribe in Rajasthan, who are actively working to protect the diminishing number of camels. Thanks to their advocacy, the government declared the camel the state animal of Rajasthan in 2014.

Entertainment at night in the desert.