Building a fort or tomb or city seems to be the thing to do for the main man. And Jodha was no different, moving the capital to what became known as “Jodhpur” and building a fort. A very big fort.
Mehrangarh Fort is impressive:
In one incident a fight broke out between Jodhpur and Jaipur forces when the late Maharaja’s fiancee was promised by her father to the Maharaja of Jaipur. Tradition dictated that she should have married Gat Singh II’s successor, and Jodhpur’s forces expressed their displeasure by hijacking the wedding gift party en route to Jaipur. Jaipur forces responded by beseiging the fort for six months, ultimately fleeing. What the lady thought of all this is not recorded.
In another, rather strange, tale it was reported that a hermit was moved from the hill to make way for the fort. Understandably miffed, he cursed the fort with a lack of water. So the Maharaja appealed to the gods (as you do) and one man volunteered to be sealed alive in the fort’s foundations. I think this was a sacrifice to encourage the gods to listen to the Maharaja, but I was struggling to understand the connection between the lack of water and being buried alive.
Over the years, the fort changed hands many time but, as per above, it was never compromised. It’s not difficult to see why. The main gates require the enemy to scale a steep hill and, at the top, turn a sharp right-angle thereby preventing elephants ramming the doors (which were decorated with nasty-looking spikes to further disuade them from any monkey business):
Also near the door were hand prints with a rather distressing tale. After Maharaja Man Singh died, his queens dipped their hands in vermillion and left their prints on the wall as they passed through its gates for the last time. Led by the male royals (of course), they rode into town on palaquins, chanting hymns and distributing alms before sitting on the king’s funeral pyre and burning alive. In silence. That someone thought this acceptable at any point in history is both astonishing and heart-breaking.
My favourite anecdote was that the current Maharaja, who retains only ceremonial status, set up a foundation to restore his family’s history and raised the first funds by selling bat droppings from the derelict fort. Very enterprising.
I also learnt that there is a specific term for the study of historical swords: spathology. The world never ceases to amaze me.
In an interesting gender rebalance, the Moti Mahal included disguised alcoves where the king’s women could listen to proceedings. He valued their counsel, apparently:
And here’s their zenana:
A walk on the ramparts showed why Jodhpur is nicknamed “the blue city” – the indigo paint not only cools during the summer but is an effective insect repellant.
Toorji ka jhalra was “built in the 1740s by Abhay Singh’s queen consort”. See, she doesn’t even have a name – she’s referred to in relation to the king only (*sigh*). It was an act in keeping with the tradition of ladies of the Royal family building water works. It’s a stepwell designed to capture precipitation – the steps around the sides enable easy access, whatever the water level. It was mainly used by women as fetching and storing water was one of their principal household chores.
The best bit about lunch was watching boys playing in the stepwell – one was jumping from the high viewing area opposite:
Like children everywhere, their play grew bolder, ending with them throwing each others belongings into the water and someone having to go back in to get them. But only the things that’d float 🙂
And, as ever, the stepwell was the setting for multiple photo shoots:
Dinner at the hotel was superb, although I felt slightly guilty when I realised that the lad had cooked it all himself. And the view of the fort was amazing:
