A whiff of China

The Makar Sankranti fell on 15th January, the day from when days become longer at the end of the month of the winter solstice. There was a subtle warmth in the weather that I could sense as soon as I woke up that morning. Nature was once again on its way in the change of seasons, an inevitable cyclical progression. 

Last year, your blushing face,

And the blushing faces 

Of the peach blossoms reflecting

Yours. This door, this day

- this year, where are you,

You, in the peach blossoms?

The peach blossoms still

here, giggling

At the spring breeze

(Cui Hu, Tang Dynasty poet, quoted in " The death of a Red Heroine, by Qiu Xiaolong)  

In such changing times, one is perhaps entitled to indulge in a bit of nostalgia :)

You came,

like a sparkling dream

Memories,
like shining drops of rain
On blades of grass, remain

A day in Hissar

Long time no post, as you said. You are right, of course. So I went through the D drive and noticed a few pictures of Hissar, which I visited two years ago. I am sure you would love these pictures and the stories associated with some of them. 

Hissar as you know, is a district town in the State of Haryana, known to be the home base of one of the steel barons who have a huge multinational enterprise going at present. Several, in fact.

View of Hissar from an observation tower

Before visiting Hissar, we went to see the ancient ruins of a fort in Hansi. Known as the fort of Prithviraj Chauhan, one of the most romantic kings of medieval India. Blinded after the second battle of Tarain where he finally lost to the invading armies of Mohammad Ghori, legend has it that he sought out the invader and managed to shoot him dead, aiming only by his voice. Maybe therefore, almost all the statues of the redoubtable king, also known for his love affair with the princess Samyukta of Kanauj, have him astride his horse and aiming at the blue sky ..

Statue of Prithviraj Chauhan, Hissar

Entry to Hansi fort is generally through the Barshi gate, right into the town. And the bustling market starts right after the entry to the fort, as you may have noticed elsewhere as well 

It was a little distance, to the site of the ruins.

The fort is known to have been destroyed during the Mutiny of 1857. Only a few structures have been partially restored, most of it lying in mounds

A horde of bronze statues was found some time back in the Hansi fort and perhaps, other treasure also lie buried somewhere within. Because, this fort was also known as Asigarh, Asi meaning sword and garh meaning fort, and there used to be a sword manufacturing factory somewhere inside.

Next stop, the fort of Firoz Tughlak in Hissar, about 30 kms from Hansi. There was also a subterranean tunnel between these two forts, as people say.

The palace of the emperor also had a tehkhana within its premises, or an underground vault and an armoury.

Most of the passages appeared to have been sealed off, including those leading down. The complex also has a small mosque in front of which is a pillar which is actually the top portion of an original Asokan pillar from the 3rd century BC. Brought down by Firoz Tughlak.

But the interesting part is the Gujari Mahal, which was built by the emperor for his wife or mistress, which is presently just across the road. It is rumoured that there was a subterranean passage as well as a maze between the palace and the Gujari Mahal, which cannot be accessed now as the Gujari Mahal is all locked up. The local lore has it that a marriage procession entered the tunnel as a shortcut and has been trying to find its way out ever since, horses and all ..

It is said that the young prince Firoz met a local cowherd girl during his hunting expeditions. Dying of thirst, he was saved by the offer of milk by the girl. And then, Firoz started frequenting the dera of the gujars, where this girl lived with her family and before long, marriage was proposed and accepted but she reportedly refused to accompany the prince to Delhi.

Some say that the Gujari queen did visit Delhi, and that is why you find a maze in the fort of Firoz at Delhi also, where we have the cricket stadium now. The maze with the djinns!

 Gujari Mahal. Notice the buttressed walls

But there was another structure behind the fort complex which seemed equally interesting

At some risk to our selves, we climbed up what remained of some stairs to find a set of fine living quarters, with evidence of fireplaces, in built cupboards and wooden beams in the ceiling, so these were definitely done up by the Britishers. One could almost imagine the memsahibs airing themselves in the verandahs and little children chasing the squirrels and mynahs ...

However, the lower storey was built on arches, so the original structure must have been built at a much earlier date, another time

Some previous attempts at maintenance is evident but clearly such efforts have not been enough. If these buildings are restored, they would definitely complement the fort complex of Firoz Tughlak, showing off the contrasts from different periods in history. 

McCluskiegunj in May

I have been meaning to tell you about McCluskiegunj, a small town about 40 kms from Ranchi. This small, hilly town has figured in several stories in the Bengali language and several writers maintained their retreats here. I did not know the story about the origin of the town however, which I found out only after going there. 

It appears that a certain Anglo Indian gentleman, Ernest T McCluskie obtained lease of ten thousand acres from the local Raja of Ratu in the early thirties of the last century and invited fellow Anglo Indians to settle here. At that time, Anglo Indians, though somewhat looked down upon by the conservative Indian society being of mixed parentage, occupied most of the important positions in the Railways, mines, post offices etc and much after independence, India has also had an Air Force chief from the community. Anyway, the Colonisation Society of India founded by Mr McCluskie was not eminently successful and only about 200 families came in. Over the years, almost all of them drifted away for the town did not have any independent economy or industry. Only a handful have remained and the bungalows fell into disrepair. Some were bought by wealthy Indians and some were commandeered by the Maoist guerillas. It is only very recently that a few residential schools have come up and some of the bungalows have been put to use as hostels for the students. And yes, some of the same Maoist guerillas also have their children studying in these schools.

The road to McCluskiegunj was being repaired and it was quite an ordeal getting our car to navigate the broken road. Soon however, we were surrounded by forests and McCluskiegunj appeared suddenly, down a slope. We came down to the railway station and over cups of tea, came to know about the place. This is the fountain erected in memory of Mr McCluskie, lying forlorn in a corner

Sights of the bungalows, of which there are a lot of stories ...

The railway station and the church, which opens only on Sundays

A Swedish organisation keeps a big farm with various welfare activities but no one seemed around when we went there, except some local boys intent on bringing down unripe mangoes

More of the once splendid bungalows

Plenty of stories associated with each of these houses and we particularly loved this one -

This is one of the bungalows that have been converted into students' hostels

About the only decent hotel that we could find, run by an Anglo Indian family

After a simple Indian meal of rice, dal, vegetable curry and omelette, it was time to go back to Ranchi because of the bad roads but not before tarrying awhile on the banks of the local river Dugadugi which had almost dried up since it was the peak of summer

Mrs B and Miss B liked it here, sitting in the shade with legs dangling over the bank and chattering away happily

On the way back, we came upon a place where someone had thought of building a temple, a mosque, a church and a gurdwara side by side but only the temple and the mosque had been built

This is where the church is yet to come up, and as for the gurdwara, obviously the funds ran out

What a strange, unique place!