Once upon a time, Lord Brahma decided to do a fire worship and decided upon the city of Pushkar as the chosen venue. Now as per the prevalent rules of the time he was supposed to have his wife, Savitri, along and she does not turn up. Being the pragmatic gentleman that he is, he married a local village belle, Gayatri, to do the honours. For whatever reason this upset Savitri and she cursed Brahma, one of the members of the holy trinity of the powerful triumvirate comprising of Lord Shiva and Lord Vishnu to have a temple of his own only in the town of Pushkar in the entire land of Hindustan.
The temple of Brahma is in the centre of the town and the two ladies have their own temples on two hill tops diagonally facing each other. You can work out the moral of the story for yourself.
During the 1970s the quaint little town of Pushkar was discovered by western tourists and hippies on their trip to discover eastern spiritual mysticism. On this path they discovered chocolate skinned Indian women taking a bath at the numerous ghats in front of the temple and this became a vantage point for many a photographer to focus his camera lenses.
Sadly the government intervened as governments are prone to and put an end to this simple pleasure of life and today the disgruntled photographer has to make do with the innumerable camels and sadhus.
We reached Ajmer by road and set across a hillock to arrive at Pushkar while the sun was dipping against the horizon. It is more akin to Goa with its fancy resorts and western tourists and yet retains all of its charm and little pathways while offering everything from bandhinis to jewellery to metal bras to the discerning tourist.
The holy town is out of limits for the meat eating traveller and the one who enjoys his evening tippling of alcoholic beverages. Being a completely vegetarian town it offers grass as a way to enhance and absorb the spiritual leanings within and around us.
We left for the mela at around 5.30 sufficiently armed with tripods, off camera flashes and reflectors. The town was also getting up with people going temples and the women leaving for the rose farms.
The town is around 2 kilometres by two kilometres and can be enjoyed by foot. The mela was a huge dust bowl with the traders setting up the morning tea by burning firewood. We enjoyed the local hospitality and soon came across the habit of “bakshish” or offering 10 rupees for every portrait.
Photography Tip of the day: Carry 500 rupees in changes of 10 and you will get 50 models. The kids and women are vociferous and haggle for money. The men are ok even if you don’t pay them and you get lovely shots with colourful turbans and smoking the pipe with their unique way of wrapping the fingers around them. The skin is also weather beaten and has a lot of character. Women are dressed either in yellow or red or a combination of the two.
The sadhus will curse you to eternal damnation and women will curse you to a life of celibacy for non payment towards the above cause. The morning continued the opening ceremony in the parade grounds where all competitions including “the longest moustache” are held. The prettiest girls dressed in traditional finery from the local schools in and around the town lend eye candy.
In the afternoon we walked around the ghats shooting people and more people. It was random, it was mindless and it was brutal. Never have I walked into a street where you just have to point your camera anywhere and a frame appears. The only thing to be wary of is fekking photographers who are everywhere. The whole town is infested with them and it was with great difficulty and perseverance that I stayed clear of them.
The local women have the strange habit of covering the face with the sari. Now this is not very surprising but for the fact that while the face is completely covered and protected, they leave the breastesses (which are bloused, obviously, you seeker of cheap thrills) and belly wide open. I suspect some clever smooth talker has convinced the local ladies long ago that men get excitable when they see faces and do not pay much attention to the bewbies.
By evening we took a camel walk across the mela. Not highly recommended with too many jolts and bounces. The restaurants are fancifully titled Pink Floyd Cafe and the Blue Rainbow and Bob Marley adorns many a wall. The picture perfect shots of the mela are taken against the setting sun with dust rising and the belching and farting camels. By the way camels stink just like most animals.
Traders come in to buy and sell and it is a tough bargain interlocked with gaalis in the local language. The camels will be used to pull stuff as well as take the tourists around.
More famous and prestigious at the fair is the more beautiful and elegant counterpart, the Marwari horse. Fetching up to 2 lakh rupees these are intelligent animals that do the trot and the samba and very pretty to look at.
We wound up the night shooting the diyaas at the Ghat during the Aarthi accompanied to great fireworks.
The next day began with an air balloon trip across the town to witness how it nestled along the Aravali ranges while the sun rose majestically across the mountain. It offered lovely shots with the mist and fog rising across the foliage while the rays of the Sun flowed through. Our captain was tongue in cheek with his announcement of a non smoking flight and no stepping out of the box.
Highly recommended: A sumptuous breakfast with all types of stuffed parathas at the RS restaurant near the Brahman temple. As early as stepping into Jaipur the trip had soon transformed into a foodie binge gorging on all local delicacies from the ghatta curry to vegetable khormas.
Before leaving the town we stepped into the temple to seek blessings and inner peace. Along with the main diety, there is also the Lord Kuberan or bringer of wealth and prosperity.
This travelogue will be incomplete without a mention of Lucy, a beautiful Great Dane pup, all of 8 months and like 3 feet tall. She struts around the Gulab Niwas hotel, like she owned the place.
Place: Pushkar, Rajasthan
Event: Pushkar Mela, weeklong cattle fair held every November.
No of Days: 2
Food: To die for
People: Very friendly
Spiritual Enlightenment: No photography of naked women at Ghats
Recommended lenses: A wide angle like 14mm, the 70-200 mm, f 2.8 and the nifty fifty mm. Off camera flashes with a large soft box and tripod also recommended.
Rating: 4 out of 5.