Chittorgarh Fort

Onto the bus for a late afternoon visit to the fort, and our guide is a very pretty girl. She is telling us stories from the history of this fort, about the women here.

I'm in about the fourth row of seats, and ahead of me are middle-aged couples. As before, the wives are half-listening, and looking at the view outside the bus. But the men are giving this girl their complete attention. Asked if they have heard of some event or the other, the husbands are nodding furiously, like twelve year olds trying to impress the pretty teacher. Yes miss, no miss. Ben will be able to relate to that. I'm sure a couple were even drooling. Very amusing. To be honest, I had to stop myself a couple of times from nodding like a fool.

Lets talk about nodding for a moment.
Have you ever noticed how Indians nod in a kind of 360degree movement. Was that a yes? A no? Didn't understand? Not sure.

Many years ago, Fiji had a bit of an uprising. The native Fijians booted the Fijian Indians out of power. Sarah went there once with her parents, just before we got engaged. She didn't feel comfortable. It didn't help that their surname, Chowdhuri, was the same as the recently ousted Prime Minister.

It occurred to me that the Fijians could do a roaring trade selling dolls to drivers there. Get rid of those dogs that sit and wobble their heads on the parcel shelf behind the back seat of their cars, and replace them with little wobble-headed Indians. Yes I know, a little racist, but funny. Sarah was definitely not amused.

Anyway, when we were in the gift shop of that first fort, I found little models of Indians, with nothing but a spring joining their heads from their bodies. Man and a woman, different sizes, all smiling. Sarah was still not amused, and I was not allowed to buy any. Bugger!

Now finally, a scientific breakthrough! It happened while we were having dinner the other night.

Have you ever noticed when in a train, that your body may sway back and forth, but your head stays stationary? It may be a natural reaction to keep equilibrium, or it may be a learned skill by people like me who are prone to motion sickness. Anyway, even when sitting in the dining car, your head may be stationary, but your arse cheeks are doing a samba in time with the rhythm train.
So. The breakthrough? All Indians grow up with these trains. Short trips, long trips. Every day they spend some time with their heads still, and their arses bouncing around. So, isn't it natural that when their feet hit terra firma, their head would start instead. Think of a helicopter. If they didn't have the tail rotor for stability, the body would spin around the main rotor, in the opposite direction. Equal and opposite force. Scientific. Solved.

Back to the pretty girl.

She is telling us about the fort, and points out of the window. I see a wall along the top of the hill. This is not a fort pitched on top of a hill like the last ones. This is a plateau. I forget how long she said the wall is. Over 100 km I think. Bloody hell. As we enter the fort, we must drive through, I think, seven gates. The first one is the narrowest, literally a gnats whisker between us and the gate. I know this because two gnats tried to pass us in the gateway, and one died.

We pass gate after gate, temple after temple, on our way to the top. Most of the castley bits are derelict and dilapidated, but I think every temple in India is still functional. Seriously, there are domes up the wazoo in this place.

We see the remains of a palace where a queen called Padmini lived. There is a story about how, because strangers could not look at noble women, she allowed someone to see her by reflection. As with all stories of beautiful women, it ended in tears.

I had a closer look at an active temple, and surrounding buildings. Our people were allowed to enter the temple without shoes and take photos. I didn't go in.

Other than the monkeys climbing everywhere, the locals use these temples for their worship. I didn't feel comfortable imposing on their private prayers for a photo op. I won't take photos in one of their homes either.
These are very poor people, who do profit by our presence. There are hawkers constantly trying to sell you something as soon as you step off the bus. That's fine, they can make some money from those prepared to buy.










Seeing the slums, and even what they regard as a good home, reminds us of how lucky we are for our own lives. Just to put this into proportion, my sunglasses cost more than many of these villagers earn in a year. Office workers in the city? A different proposition. They earn it in a month.

But these people deserve the same respect that we would all like to receive. I'm not going to be the fat white guy trampling through their sacred buildings.




We finished the evening with what is called a sound and light show. We were in an amphitheatre created in the grounds of an old building. There is a voiceover commentary telling stories from the history of the region, with voices and sound effects, synchronized to various lights around the set. No actors, just, well, sound and light. Most of the people were bored but polite. To be honest when most of the gods have different names over time. Exactly how do you know that this god is the reincarnation of that god, and not just another god to add to the list? Beats me.