Bikaner: a Desert City in Rajasthan

“Almost there!” “You said that half an hour ago.” “I mean it this time. Look, you can see the lights of Bikaner.” Sure enough, from the dusty gloom of the carriage the distant fairy-lights of Bikaner twinkle in the distance. It has been a long train journey from Delhi and we are glad to arrive. The railway station in Bikaner is reasonably new and nowhere near as chaotic as that of Old Delhi. Porters carry our luggage to the waiting taxis and soon we are installed in the relative comfort of the Dhola Maru Tourist Bungalow. Bikaner is very much a frontier town and, as the border with Pakistan is not so very far away, the town is the head-quarters of the Border Security Force, originally known as the Bikaner Camel Corps. The town, although modernised by the more recent Maharajahs – once among the wealthiest in India – still retains much of its unspoilt ethnic charm. The centre is dominated by the massive Junagadh Fort which dates from the latter part of the 16th century.

Junagadh Fort, the Royal complex of the Maharajah's of Bikaner, Rajasthan

The entrance to the Fort is through three heavy iron-lined wooden doors, adorned at elephant-forehead height with rows of vicious metal spikes, each about 15 centimetres in length; no doubt an effective deterrent against a pachyderm battering-ram. On the wall to the left of the second door is something far more sinister. These are the Sati handprints, now embossed in stone, left by the unfortunate royal widows of Bikaner whom, on the death of their royal husbands, have calmly elected to join the ranks of the divine and condemn themselves to self-immolation. Although this practice was outlawed in British India in 1829, sati persisted for much longer in the Indian princely states. I once met a Rajput, a member of the Royal Family of Jodhpur, who told me he had witnessed ‘Royal sati’ as late as the mid-1950s and incidences, particularly in rural India, still occasionally occur today. Once a woman has become sati she becomes a sati mata or sati mother, a fertility goddess. Every morning at the Bikaner Fort, a Hindu priest performs puja on these sacred handprints. Each is splashed with ghee, or clarified butter, a tikka blessing is daubed in red in the centre, and sticks of sweet-smelling incense are lit.

Embossed sati handprints at the entrance to Junagadh Fort, Bikaner

Junagadh Fort is a delightful example of the decadent splendour of the India native princes who once controlled large areas of India under the protection of the British. Now fast falling into decay and all but deserted by its former inhabitants, the fort has been preserved as a museum. Although many rooms have been stripped of their original fittings and adornments, one can invariably speculate on their former splendours. In some rooms portraits of former rulers glare sternly down upon the itinerant visitor, while in others the god Krishna and his milk-maids perform their eternal celestial dance of love across the walls and ceilings. Floral and gilt ceilings still impress and bejewelled thrones still await the returning Maharajah. One small balcony is completely decorated with what appear to be a mixture of Delft and Chinese willow-pattern porcelain tiles.

Painting of a Maharajah & the 'willow pattern' balcony, Junagadh Fort, Bikaner

In the gloomy Hall of Public Audience moth-eaten relics of the hunt gaze sullenly from between ceremonial and sporting elephant-howdahs and camel-saddles. At the far end of the Hall lie two tattered canvas-covered frames sporting R.A.F. roundels. A fading sign tells us that these are the only two Bristol Bulldog fighter aircraft left in the World, a gift from the grateful British to Maharajah Ganga Singh of Bikaner in recognition of his services as the Indian Commander-in-Chief during World War I. The aircrafts’ wings lie neglected in a nearby passageway. Another room is devoted to memorabilia of Ganga Singh; the ox-plough with which he inaugurated the construction of the Ganga Irrigation Canal, an ambitious project which had far-reaching economic benefits for Bikaner; an oil painting of Ganga Singh receiving a decoration from King George V at Buckingham Palace; a print of Ganga Singh at the Treaty of Versailles – he was India’s signatory; a caricature of delegates, of which he was one, at the 1930 Round Table Conference on the future of India held in London. Even outside the Fort the memory of Maharajah Ganga Singh lingers. There is a fine equestrian statue of him in a nearby park. In the afternoon we travel by taxi to the locally important shrine of Karani Mata in the small village of Deshnoke, some 35 kilometres from Bikaner. This temple is better known as the ‘rat temple’ and is said to be the only one of its kind in India. To the devotees the rather diminutive species of the genus rattus that exist here in their thousands are rather less important than the spirituality of the goddess, Karani Mata or, to use her full title, Bhagwati Shri Karniji Maharaj who is believed to be an incarnation of Durga, wife of Shiva and the Hindu goddess of anger and destruction. The temple, situated in the centre of Deshnoke, is built like a small fort. The entrance is of the most exquisitely sculpted white marble. The sculptor has intertwined vines, flowers and trees with peacocks, rats, gods and goddesses. To enter the temple visitors must remove their shoes. “You’re joking!” “No way, I’m staying in the bus”: “Are rats rabid?” “Can you get rabies from rat-droppings?” “No, at best, they just trim your toenails!” Somewhat warily most of the group enter. At the entrance to the inner courtyard, also a paragon of the marble-sculptors art, the first rats are encountered at close quarters. Inquisitive rodents investigate white toes, but one or two quiet screams and a quick shuffle or two keep them at bay. The entrance to this inner courtyard is flanked by two beautifully worked silver doors depicting Karani Mata in her earthly historical form. According to local tradition she lived in Rajasthan from the end of the 14th until the middle of the 16th century dying, or as she was a goddess incarnate, disappearing in a brilliant flash of light at the grand old age of 150. Karani Mata was renown throughout Rajasthan as a miracle-worker and was adopted as patron goddess by the Rathor Rajputs who ruled Bikaner and the neighbouring state of Jodhpur.

Guardian of the Hindu Temple of the Rats & a silver image of Karani Mata, Deshnoke, Rajasthan

Within the silver doors one crosses a small courtyard to reach the innermost sanctuary, the sanctum santorum. Here rests the sacred image of the goddess. Local legend states that this image was commissioned by Karani Mata herself from a blind carpenter. She revealed herself to the carpenter just long enough for him to form a perfect visual image which he then transformed into stone. The goddess had reasoned that as the carpenter had been born blind no other outside influences were likely to sully the work in hand. Once Karani Mata had accepted the blind man’s completed masterpiece she restored his sight permanently. In front of the image large platters of grain have been placed, food for the myriad rats, believed to be the souls of holymen, that squabble and scurry throughout the temple complex. The sighting of a rare albino rat is regarded as a good omen. By now nerves are beginning to crack and rather gingerly we retreat to where we had left our shoes. The sun was now lowering in the dusty desert skies as we arrive at the National Research Centre on Camel on the outskirts of Bikaner. Formerly the breeding centre for the Bikaner Camel Corps, the centre is a small Government run establishment dedicated to the improvement of local camel-stock and research into all other aspects of camel husbandry. Workers proudly show visitors around the breeding and feeding pens. In one row of pens a number of large males are tethered, awaiting expectantly their turn to service one of the many ovulating females, known as cows. The then director of the Centre, a Dr Chaudhuri, who had obtained his agricultural degree at Lincoln University in Christchurch, New Zealand, is an amazing wealth of facts and figures concerning ‘his’ camels, even down to the number of spermatozoa per millilitre of seminal fluid of which, incidentally, the camel has less than most other mammals.

'You want see camel make love?' National Camel Research Centre, Bikaner

We are just about to leave when a staff member excitedly asks us if we want “to see camel make love”. Who could refuse such an offer? This was a bizarre and somewhat frightening ritual in which it is surprising to learn that modern domesticated camels require human assistance to mate successfully. With the male frothing at the mouth and hideously inflating his soft palate and the kneeling female roaring loudly and attempting to bite the neck of her paramour, we are amazed that baby camels are ever conceived at all. The rays of the setting sun are now mingling with the desert dust and the smoke from a thousand cooking fires. A lone vulture, perching in a thorn tree, is silhouetted against a reddening sky as we leave the Research Centre to return to Bikaner.

Travel books by Neil Rawlins available on Amazon.