I was quite satisfied that I would reach my destination within four hours by car. An ideal location, I thought to myself as I sped along the National Highway to Jaipur. From the highway town of Kot Putli I turned towards Neem Ka Thana, the road also leads to the famous Shekhawati region of Rajasthan. The traffic was slower on this state highway, blooming mustard fields all along which were a consolation for the bad road which made the drive bumpy. The mud-smeared milestone read Patan 24 kilometres which made me relax. I was in no hurry. It would suffice if I reached my destination before sunset. By the time I reached the periphery of the town, the sun had traversed two-thirds of its path in the sky. A pleasant weather added to my joy of reaching my destination. The entry to the town was through a small village market dominated by fruit and vegetable vendors. Loudspeakers blared some Hindi song. I pulled on to a side to enquire how to reach Patan Mahal. Helpful village folks guided me to the narrow road leading to a cluster of houses. The road disappeared into a graveled pathway going through houses on either side till I reached a huge gate—the entry to Patan Mahal. A guard with a burly moustache opened the gate and bowed in welcome as the car rolled into a small garden areaand then to a neat row of circular stairs leading to a podium behind which stood the Mahal.
A warm welcome was pleasing ; the owner of the Mahal, a descendent of the family, was there to greet. The Patan Mahal stood silently in front. On the hill opposite were ruins of a fort ; the hill top too had a fort which seemed abandoned. Some guests were checking out and the reception at the entry gate was busy as I walked into the hall which had been transformed into a large waiting lounge. Black and white pictures on the walls depicting the glory of the past and the rulers who had built the forts of Patan looked like pages from history. Shortly an attendant led me to my room –spacious accommodation; it was divided in to a bed room and a sitting area. Being on front corner of the Mahal, the windows with colored glasses gave a nice view of the hill in front. I could see the Fort on top and other ruins halfway.
This was what I wanted to see myself. A trekking was planned for next morning. As I explored the room, a tea maker made me comfortable. Luckily what was not present in the room was an idiot box – some relief. Outside it was quite, there were no noises as the Mahal was away from any road. Birds chirped in what looked like a farm nearby. The day passed by peacefully as the sun went down behind the hill and darkness descended on the Mahal; the domes were lit up and lights showed out of room windows. In the quiet evening I could hear folks in the town down below enjoying their favourite music.Hunger was slowly taking over and I was looking forward to the evening meal. I had already sounded the attendant that the choice of dishes for my evening meal be left to the chef's choice. Later, I discovered that I had done the right thing – a grand meal awaited me. A preparation of chicken, home made cheese, dal makhani and plate full of salad which tasted very fresh. Being a slow eater, I enjoy every morsel of food and that I did. Even before I finished my last piece of 'pudina parantha', the attendant was there with a dish, “dessert,” he announced as he placed it on the table. “It is mal pua,” he said as I looked at him enquiringly. As I took a small bite from the dish, I knew this was the authentic 'mal pua' of Rajasthan. Very well prepared. I told the attendant to convey my appreciation to the chef and to make the same dessert for me for the next meal too. Next morning I was woken up by a group of parrots twittering loudly on a tree outside my room. The sun had already wandered up into the clear sky.
It was time for me to get ready for the trek up the hill. After a quick breakfast,I left for the trek with an escort. The ascent was not difficult, a narrow pathway, rocky at times, took me slowly towards the first ruin.The ruins were not very difficult to reach,halls, verandahs, living areas and underground water tanks told tales of how the people must have lived hundreds of years ago.Perhaps they were experts in water harvesting that time. Sun, rains and winds had left their marks on the old ruins, the dilapidated ramparts of which spread out to the town below. The entire town was visible from here, at a distance there was a big water body, probably a small lake which seemed in a state of utter neglect and some 'chhatris' (domes marking the cremation points of the royals). The fort on hilltop was still halfway above. My escort, however, was not keen to climb up further and he discouraged me by saying that there was not much to see there as most of the fort was in total ruins and people rarely go there By noon we had rolled down to the Mahal, but through a different route. We first walked to an old dam which must have been used to hold rain water and then through a farm which was full of leafy vegetables, radish, carrot and some fruits. My escort explained tome that the farm belonged to the Mahal and the salad served to me the previous evening had come from there – garden fresh. In fact the supply of vegetables and even wheat for the guests at the Mahal comes from this farm, an added attraction for those who love and enjoy nature in this artificial world.
My two-day vacation at Patan Mahal slid by quietly, away from the noise of the busy cities, without a television and little chance of being disturbed by a mobile call. The Patan Mahal had proved to be the kind of quiet retreat I always hunt for. Will I be back again to explore the hilltop fort? I questioned myself as I waved driving out of the gate. The guard with the bushy moustache smiled at me, the birds were still chirping, the fort on the hill looked down to me, as if inviting me yet another time.
