On the Trail of Mahouts, Moguls and the Maharaja

of Mulwa

When I was in college an old girlfriend invited me, or more

accurately dragged me, to a concert of classical Indian
music performed by the great Hindu sitarist, Ravi Shankar.
My date, a music major, told me that Indian music had a
haunting quality, and I should look for the infinite
improvisations of the musicians. Unable to see the infinite
improvisations, I spent the greater part of the concert
looking for the exit.

Well, all that was thirty years ago and long forgotten - at
least until a few month ago. By a strange set of
circumstances I found myself relaxing on a Boeing 747,
semi-listening to a melange of classical Indian music, while
taking off from Bombay's Sahar International Airport. My
wife and I had been in India for a month and were now
heading home.

As the 747 gradually rose above the outlying Bombay area,

I could see the crush of humanity below. And as the
haunting sounds of Ravi Shankar came through the
earphones, scenes from the previous month visualized
before my eyes: camel caravans in Jaipur, the rising
columns of smoke from burning cow dung at sunrise, the
Hindu holy man at Fatepur Sikri, the incomparable Taj
Majal, the tigers and elephants of Kerala, and the endless
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cows. Whereas thirty years before the drone of the

tampura had bored me to death, it now caused an eerie
chill to run down my spine as vision after vision appeared
before my eyes.

My wife and I recently took a cruise around the coast of

India but before boarding our ship in Bombay we toured
the “Golden Triangle," the region around Delhi, Agra, and
Jaipur, where between 1526 and 1707, the six Great Mogul
emperors ruled India. Traveling so far, it makes sense to
work in a visit to India's interior, and so some cruise lines
are offering popular land-cruise combinations.

Westerners have been determined to go to India since the

time Vasco da Gama discovered the sea route around
Africa in 1498. Their goal was partly to sack its riches, but
mostly to test the range of their imaginations against the
facts. Often, the facts surpassed their imaginations.

“Can you name the six Great Mogul kings of India ?" my
wife asked me as we drove from the Delhi airport to our
hotel.

I was more absorbed at this point, however, in watching

our driver miss the dozens of cows that lay sleeping in the
road to be bothered by a history lesson. Cows, of course,
are sacred to Hindus and as our driver told us, “There is no
greater sin for a cab driver than to run over a cow." That
didn't seem to apply to people, however, as pedestrians
scattered like geese at the sound of our horn.
 3

“The first of the Great Mogul emperors was Babur, followed

by Humayun, Akbar, Jahangir, Shah Jahan, and Aurangzeb,"
my wife answered her own rhetorical question as we
swerved to miss yet another cow.

It was Babur, a descendent of Ghenghis Khan, who came

south from central Asia and established the first Great
Mogul empire of India in 1526. It was the third Mogul king,
Akbar the Great, who was the first to transform India into a
modern centralized state.

“Akbar the Great is the 'George Washington' of India," my

wife read from her guidebook.

“Every schoolchild knows Akbar," our driver volunteered.

Our first day in India was spent touring Delhi in a phut-

phut, a motorized trishaw with a driver sitting in front and
a couple of horrified tourists in the back.

“I will teach you about Delhi," our driver, Pharnum, shouted

over his shoulder as he nearly ran down a group of
schoolgirls diving for cover. I made the mistake of asking
him if he ever had an accident with his phut-phut.

“Never," Pharnum shouted over the roar of the engine

making a left turn through three lanes of traffic.

I will admit, however, Pharnum did obey a few laws of the

road. On the back of most vehicles was written, “Keep
Distance" and Pharnum always managed a gap of at least
a foot.
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Few cities of the world can claim the long continuity of

Delhi, mentioned in the epic, Mahabharata, 5000 years
ago. Today's Delhi is actually made up of two Delhis, New
Delhi and Old Delhi. Old Delhi was the capital of Moslem
India between the 12th and 19th centuries, and New Delhi
was created as the capital of India by the British in the
early part of this century.

First, Pharnum gave us a tour of New Delhi. He took us to

the Qutb Minar, a 250-foot-tall minaret dating back to the
13th century, and then to Humayun's tomb. Today, New
Delhi shows the influence of the Raj or British rule with its
wide avenues and many government buildings. After
completing our tour of New Delhi, Pharnum headed for Old
Delhi.

“Red Fort," Pharnam pointed to a massive structure on our

right. He was referring to the sandstone fort, built by the
fifth Mogul emperor, Shah Jahan in the 16th century.

Old Delhi is a teeming mass of humanity. Snake-charmers

carrying cobras in an open basket, sword swallowers, and
jugglers are everywhere. We were approached by children
selling hand-carved elephants for $3, cloth paintings of
Mogul scenes for $2, hand-carved sandalwood pen for $1,
handmade jewelry for $2, and on and on.

After spending two days in Delhi, we headed east to the

city of Agra to see the most famous of the Mogul
structures. Although Akbar was the greatest of the Great
Moguls, it was his grandson and fifth Mogul emperor, Shah
 5

Jahan, who build an extraordinary mausoleum for his

favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, that is one of the wonders of
the world. It is, of course, the Taj Mahal.

“Good picture from here," a boy of about ten instructed me

as we arrived at the outer gate of the Taj. One hardly
needed any help, but several young entrepreneurs had
found a way to earn a few rupees (one rupee equals a
nickel) telling tourists the obvious places where to take
photographs. Just before I would snap a picture, my
unofficial host would interrupt me and tell me to take a
step to the left or right for a still better shot. When I
appeased him, he would request couple of rupees (11
cents) for his services. He was a cheerful kid and I used his
services for my entire visit at the Taj.

Before arriving at the Taj, I wondered if it would live up the

many stories I had known from childhood, raving of its
unparalleled beauty. Like most overdone hype, I rather
expected to be disappointed. Not so with the Taj. This was
one time the real thing was better than the imagined. I
hope my photos, taken with the help of my young advisor,
will give you an idea of its grace and elegance.

The next day we headed west from Agra to the city of

Jaipur in the state of Rajasthan. Rajasthan is desert country
and former land of the Rajput warriors, a network of
warlike clans that gave their name to modern-day
Rajasthan.

The road from Agra to Jaipur was worth the journey to India
in itself. In addition to sharing the road with trucks, phut-
 6

phuts, bicycles, trishaws, water buffalo, donkeys, monkeys,

vultures, sari-clothed women balancing brass pots on their
heads, brightly-turbaned men, peasants drying grain, and
cows (oh yes, don't forget the cows), we saw camel
caravans, elephants, men leading bears, and men carrying
cobras. About the time we started to become used to this
kind of thing, we met a man striding briskly down the
middle of the road, stark naked.

“Holy man," our driver said over his shoulder.

“Oh," my wife said.

One of the major sites of Jaipur is Amber fort, a former

Mogul stronghold, where nowadays painted elephants take
visitors up the steep hill through the massive gateway to
the fort.

My wife and I rode on an elephant named Sadie. The

master mahout sat us back-to-back on the howdah
(passenger seat) atop Sadie and off we went up the hill.
Unfortunately, the howdah was only about a foot wide and
with my wife taking up three quarters of it, left me
balanced precariously over the edge.

“Next time we walk," I croaked over my shoulder as Sadie

lurched forward, causing the howdah to rock to my side
and leaving me staring at the ground fifteen feet below.

I don't recall her exact reply, but it was something to the

effect that it was better than the alternative. She was, of
course, referring to the fact that there were only two ways
 7

to reach Amber Fort, and although we were constantly

being tossed around on top of an elephant, it seemed far
better than walking behind an elephant.

As Mark Twain once said of India, “When you think you

have finished tagging her as ... the Land of Plague, the
Land of Illusions, the Land of Stupendous Mountains, and
so forth, you see something new. " He finally gave up and
simply called it, the Land of Wonders. His conclusion still
holds today.

- the end -