Out In The Thar
Characterised by bitter-cold temperatures at night and searing heat by day, the desert holds a remarkable beauty; unscathed by urban development and calming in presence. The sand is silken to the touch and its golden-brown expanse stretches out in an awe-inspiring panorama, exuding a silent charm that betrays the spatial sense.
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The sprawling state of Rajasthan, nestled in northern India, is a land abundant in cultural heritage and history. Established in 1956 during the British colonial rule, the state is today home to a predominantly Rajasthani, Hindi-speaking population of approximately 70 million people. Its history dates back to the days of the Indus Valley Civilisation, the world’s first, and the passing of time has witnessed the rise and fall of the Mughals, Gurjars, Maratha and Rajput empires - perhaps it is for this very reason that the name Rajasthan translates to the “Land of Kings”. Cities such as Jodhpur, Udaipur, Jaipur and Jaisalmer are world-renowned for their fortresses, palaces and temples; a testament to the region’s prosperous heritage. Geographically, the state is largely composed of the Thar Desert – a vast, arid and largely flat region that spans over the India-Pakistan border. It is the most densely populated desert in the world, and is home to about 40% of Rajasthan’s population.
Rolling in the deep
With a loosely strung itinerary, I spent three weeks in Rajasthan, journeying across its cities by rail and road. It was in the city of Jaisalmer, however, that I had a brush with a quintessential Rajasthani experience: a window into life on the fabled Thar Desert, by way of a two-day camel safari.
Situated about 40 kilometres off the city of Jaisalmer, the Sam Dunes is connected by a narrow highway that snakes through the seemingly endless desert plain, dotted by stunted shrubs and clusters of villages that visually resonated with the barren landscape. As I cruised towards the dunes, wedged in the front seat of a local jeep between three other men, it became evident that the highway is even shared with local livestock – we were forced to slow down more than once to accommodate herds of cows and goats who strolled along unfettered, taking up an entire lane for themselves.
Motoring through the desert highway, towards the Sam Dunes.
A brief moment of acknowledgment between two friends and an outsider.
Not long after the jeep ground to a halt on the peripheral of the Sam Dunes, I was greeted by a young boy, smiling broadly with his camel in tow. This marked the start of the safari: An hour-long walk into the deep-end of the desert. Apart from the chatter and gaily crooning of Kamdin my camel walker, there was little to no sign of life. Here, amidst the ever-shifting mounds of sand, the extremities of the elements have rendered the desert almost uninhabitable.
Kamdin with Bablu the camel, making our way across the desert’s barren landscape towards the campsite.
A harsh, beautiful reality
Upon arrival at the campsite, Kamdin started a fire to brew chai and prepared for dinner. The campsite was an enclosure made out of tree branches and twigs – it held enough dry rations, necessary cooking utensils, and blankets for the cold. A well was built close by to ensure there was no shortage of water for visitors. While Kamdin busied himself with preparing dinner, I ventured into the great wide open – the sun was quickly setting, and a slight breeze lingered, drawing ripples around my feet. The sunset was unlike any I had seen – an incredibly large blob of crimson red suspended over the horizon, appearing almost within arm’s reach. It painted the sky with fiery hues of orange, before finally fading into the horizon.
A well-come sight in an otherwise seemingly dry and lifeless expanse - after taking a breather, Kamdin fetches water for cooking.
Evening chai to complement the sunset, moments before the prepping of dinner commences.
A night divine, by nature’s design
As night dawned, along with Kamdin and two other camel walkers, we dined heartily, storied each other and sang freely over the crackling fire. I was given an insight into the life and culture of the Rajasthani village folk - a people very in tune with their land’s history, and who strive to preserve it through art and in their living. I had the pleasure of listening to a few folk songs, ballads of which I was told to be stories of love, tragedy and the celebration of everyday struggles. Wrapped in generous layers of blankets and accompanied by a soundtrack of bleating goats nearby, I fell asleep in the open desert, under a cloudless sky dotted with countless stars.
