These are based on my recent
short trip to Jaipur, the capital city of Rajasthan. The trip was not an
academic venture. I had gone for some personal reasons so it will be a
reflection based entirely on observations.
An economy of forts
 |
| Albert Museum |
Rajasthan makes up to be one of
the most historically-conscious, as one may put it, state in India. The pink
city is famous and known for its forts. Infact, one of the most obvious images
that conjures up when one thinks of Rajasthan is that of the innumerable forts
and not to forget, "tradition". The desert, women in lehenga, the
traditional rajasthani turban, katputli, bajre ki khichdi...Rajasthan, to an
outsider, is synonymous with the traditional Rajasthan. There is also a haunted
side to Rajasthan with legends and haunted stories weaved around medieval
forts, the best known being that of Bhangarh. Rajasthan is a much-glorified
place but what is interesting, but not new, is how the glorification is
encashed. It will not be anything new to mention how forts are being converted
into hotels, or how hotels have tried to ape the architecture of forts, the
most-famous chowkidhaani that promises you a glimpse into the
"traditional" village and the over-priced rajasthani food. What I
intend to do in this write-up is to reflect on the glorification of tradition.
Whose tradition?
 |
| Jaipur |
We were near Rajasthan, not sure
if we were in Rajasthan, when I, through the window of cafe coffee day, saw a
camel. I also saw a man wearing the traditional rajasthani turban. I was a bit
shocked with the contrasting images. I would notice the dress of women as our
car passed by villages. It was nothing like the glamorised ethnic wear. They
wore bright-colored but simple lehenga with a tight-fitting blouse (that we
(should i say delhites?) wear with a saree) with a bare midriff. All throughout
my journey, I saw this style and needless to mention, I only saw women of not
from a very high economic background opting for this dress. The men who would
wear the turban would also be generally from a modest economic background. It
was not that I was expecting everyone in Rajasthan to be dolled-up in ethnic
wear but I found this interesting. All the tradition seems to be now carried
off by people who live at the margins.
What about the people of the
middle and elite classes? Well, they hop in western clothes or in kurta-pyjama to
the malls and the World Trade Park. The World Trade Park, is a mall with no
place to sit but to roam about, admiring the expensive shops, the chandliers
and the egyptian, chinese and other unnamed but "foreign" (and that
is enough!) statues. Out of the four restaurants that I visited, only the one
of the hotel included a rajasthani dish in its menu. As about shopping in a
regular place, not the famous jowhri bazaar, there was also nothing
"rajasthani". The point is... the traditional seems to be the burden
of the underprivileged.
Chowkidhaani - The glamorised village
 |
| Chowkidhaani |
You go to Jaipur and you don't
visit chowkidhaani, that's not possible! I have been to Jaipur many times and
each time, I have been there, I have visited chowkidhaani to get the
"rajasthani" feel. Chowkidhaani promises a "glimpse" into
the traditional village. But you will be disappointed if you think through
because the glamorised replica does not talk anything about the farmer suicides
and the social evils that exists. It reminded me of the ideal image of the
self-sustaining and peaceful village that many western thinkers including marx
had hold onto.
I remember that last time, we
were welcomed by a group of ladies dressed in traditional clothes, a smiling
face who would put teeka on our forehead. This time, it was just a young girl
who was severely disinterested. She had left the lot before us as she didn't
want to waster her energy calling out to them. Nevertheless, she had put the
teeka on our forehead like a machine stamping a barcode on a product. I wasn't
disappointed seeing the prospering business until I saw three varying prices -
500, 600 and 700. I thought it was the ticket but it was actually the price for
the food per head. The highest was for the traditional Rajasthani thali.
It was fun to be in the ideal and
dream-like village (a dream especially for those who actually live in
villages). It was "exciting" to be in the line to hurt a camel (read
camel ride). But the genuinely exciting part was the rajasthani thali. Drenched
in rain, with our wet and mud-soaked clothes, we dined on the feast that was
once only the right of the "royal". While we feasted on bajre ki
kheechdi which was swimming in ghee, the ghee-soaked daal baati churma and many
other dishes, a guy was singing the ethnic songs. I do remember his face and
the songs that he played. It is a daily ritual for him. However, then and now a
thought that crops up in my mind is that has things changed for him? Then and
now, he played for the privileged. Then and now, he doesn't have an option. He
is sticking on to the tradition.
The forts and the farce of blue-bloodedness
Coming back to forts. As I saw
the forts, especially the amber fort with the long-running ramparts, I was lost
trying to imagine the past. But not "my" past. If I were what I am today,
in terms of my economic status, in those centuries, I wouldn't have been even
allowed to enter the forts with respect. Being a woman, my status would have
been even lower. So how is this a past that I should be expected to be proud
of? We went to the Albert museum and were expected to be in awe of the
"royal" items of daily use. Yes, I was in awe of the fact that they
sucked money from the commoners and created a nice royal world for themselves
while the commoners suffered during a famine.
But one definite thing that I was
happy to realise is that how this farce of blue-bloodedness has been shunned by
the recent trend of marrying in forts. Today, it is common for the economically
privileged to realise this "dream". Ofcourse, it is still extended
only to a few. But I feel happy imagining how the souls and ghosts? of the
royalty would react when people of non-rajput or "high" blood share
the same privilege.
No comments:
Post a Comment