Pink, Palaces and Pretending You’re in a Movie: A Visit to Jaipur.
If you’ve ever been craving a bit of royalty without the expectation of ruling a kingdom, Jaipur is your place. Referred to as the “Pink City,” Jaipur was painted in a charming salmon hue in the 19th century to impress a visiting British prince. Seems like painting an entire city pink was like laying out the red carpet. It worked though, because tourists like me are still wandering around taking photographs of the same walls, convinced we’re experiencing history when we’re merely obstructing traffic. The first thing you notice about Jaipur is the colour. Everything really is pink. Or dusty rose. Or terracotta, depending on the sunlight and the amount of sand in the air that day. It’s the sort of aesthetic commitment interior designers dream about. Even the cows walking down the lanes appear to have adapted to the theme, gliding past as they pick up yesterday’s newspaper. You can’t go to Jaipur without making your way into the Amber Fort. It is built atop a hill and features an imposing maze of courtyards, mirror halls and staircases leading from some magical place or another. Climbing up feels like a workout disguised as a cultural experience. Naturally, that is a clever trick to pull off with both humility as well as sheer enjoyment. At the summit, where you're at a sweating yet proud feeling, you are presented a panoramic view and a strong urge for something cold to drink which might even make you lie down and sleep for some time. And, then there’s City Palace, a museum, a royal residence, an Instagram studio. At that time I waited embarrassingly long to stage the perfect shot for the famous Peacock Gate, only to learn later that the real royal family would probably pass through without thinking twice. That’s the thing about Jaipur: You’re just marginally conscious that you’re one of those people in someone else’s story. The Hawa Mahal, or Palace of Winds, resembles a giant pink honeycomb with hundreds of tiny windows. It was meant so royal ladies could look out over the city without being seen, that sounds glamorous and a little claustrophobic at the same time. But standing before it now, with tuk-tuks blaring underneath, I couldn’t help but wonder if privacy was a real luxury even then. These days, everybody’s posting their lunch on social media, so perhaps we’ve gone the other way. And of course, the food. The cuisine is unapologetically rich at Jaipur. Between the spicy laal maas (a fiery lamb curry) and the sweet syrup-soaked ghewar, my taste buds were having their best lives while my stomach put out a formal complaint. I promised myself I’d eat lightly the next day, and, predictably, I didn’t. At the end of my trip, I discovered Jaipur to be not only a beautiful destination but a theatrical one as well. And every monument, market and meal seems a little exaggerated, like the city knows they are all watching it and that they are being watched, and they love the fact that they are watched.
It is vibrant and colourful and chaotic, regal and grounded in all the ordinary things, mix both old world charm and modern hustle. And like that final cup of masala chai you pounce onto, it gives you that sweetness to linger on long after you leave.