Uncover forgotten secrets and rediscover Jaisalmer’s love for royalty and luxury at Suryagarh

The beauty of the desert has been glorified in the movies time and again, and maybe there’s something to it. On a trip to Jaisalmer, we rediscover the state’s love for royalty, luxury and uncover some
Suryagarh Jaisalmer
Suryagarh Jaisalmer

The one thing that perhaps best describes my love for the desert, or lack thereof, comes from a dialogue in the movie Star Wars: Episode II, Attack of the Clones. While the internet continues to have its heyday trolling George Lucas’s writing of Anakin Skywalker’s character, whose tirade against sand sounds like a rant of a 13-year-old: “I don’t like sand. It’s coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere...” I, for one, would have to agree with the Jedi master. What could be so fascinating about the blazing sun and sand that makes the Thar, to be precise Jaisalmer, such an attractive tourist destination? 

A four-hour wait at the Indira Gandhi International Airport in New Delhi didn’t seem to yield too many reasons either. My mind oscillates between the potential rides on temperamental camels and the repertoire of hand-dyed Rajasthani textiles. However, touch down Jaisalmer, one cold towelette, a mounted camel escort and a Ghoomar folk dance welcome later, things slowly began to make sense. Rajasthan, an erstwhile royal state, known as the Land of the Kings pre-independence, still lives in its princely stupor and Suryagarh, Jaisalmer embodies this fascination with royalty. This regal life indeed is aspirational. Mystery and intrigue often surround the past and this seven-star boutique hotel curates a lifestyle experience that for many years remained beyond the purview of the layman. 

<em>Courtyard spruced up with satin ribbons</em>
Courtyard spruced up with satin ribbons

Postcode envy 

Unlike other heritage properties that dot Rajasthan, Suryagarh is not your century-old royal building. The 50-acre structure is more millennial. Its golden sandstone is flawlessly machine cut; the wall corners making perfect right angles. Yet, its design aesthetically mimics the forts of the past with intricate jaali work on the Jarokas (balconies), a central courtyard, rustic stone benches, and kaleidoscopic coloured glass windows. 

My room was nothing less of an experience, either. The 640 sq ft signature suite that comes with a furnished drawing room, a closet room, alongside the usual amenities was well stocked up on fresh fruit (juicy plums, mandarines and apples) and signature sweets from the in-house halwais. Everything about Suryagarh gently whispers understated elegance. 

<em>Shadow cast by the jaali work</em>
Shadow cast by the jaali work

Wine and dine  

Our first stop, once I settled in, was the Rajasthani thali dinner in the courtyard. Served over a course of almost three hours, the meal was a re-creation of centuries-old recipes that have been preserved by the finest cooks in the state and passed down from one khansama (head cook) to another. “Our concept celebrates the storied culinary heritage of Marwad, bringing to your table the legendary fare of medieval hunts, court kitchens and the zealously guarded trade secrets of Maharajas’ kitchens,” shares Nakul Hada, general manager of the property. This is the land of concept royalty dining, where the common man is served with the same menu like that of the kings’ guests. From the staple dal batti churma to a lesser-known, more kingly counterpart of the laal maas, the Mohan maas—a delicately cooked mutton, in a rich, silky milk gravy lightly flavoured with cardamom, this 12-course dinner is not the ubiquitous thali and highlights the Mughal influence in the region through a Bhatiyar style of cooking. 

The surreal night at the central courtyard ended like a dream. The dimly lit lamps lining our dining table cast soft shadows on our tablemates. Brightly coloured flowers were afloat in the courtyard pond amidst decorative candles that flickered off as the full moon shone on the white marble floor in all its splendour.

<em>Legends of Marwar restaurant</em>
Legends of Marwar restaurant

Skim the surface

The vast and unrelenting expanse of the Thar is everything but a giant sandy wasteland. The desert is dotted with a distinct topography that marks the flow of a river—possibly a part of the legendary river Sarasvathi that disappeared underground at Jaisalmer, a surface geography with Jurrasic age rocks and corals, and perhaps one of the largest oil and gas reserves in the country. Our interest, however, lies in the folklore and tales of the region that have left indelible marks either as oral histories, tombs and remnant ghost settlements. Our not-so early morning traditional halwai breakfast includes local delicacies of parathas, kachoris and samosas and at least 15 varieties of varied coloured sweetmeats, replete with additional calories that we needed for our day-long exploration of the Thar.

Part one of our trail began with retracing parts a 2,000-year-old trading route that connected China to Turkey and other regions of Europe and ran through Central Asia. About 400 years ago, Jaisalmer became the hotbed for travellers, as spice and silk merchants favoured the Southern route through India and Pakistan over, the treacherous Pamir mountains of Central Asia.  A caravanserai where the merchants took shelter as they came to trade or barter their exotic goods, Jaisalmer prospered under the established silk route of the 16th century.  As we made our way to the abandoned settlements of Khaba, Kuldhara and Loudharva, Nakul pointed out to Govardhans, weathered ancient stone pillars that indicate the presence of water nearby. This 50km trail curated by Suryagarh reimagines and reinterprets the Silk Trade route of the region. 

Thereby hangs a tale

We pulled over by the Khaba Fort that overlooks the vestiges of an ancient Paliwal village. The smallest fort in Jaisalmer, this heritage structure protected by the ASI is in ruins and gains little to no visibility among tourists. Not far from here are the ruins of another Paliwal village, Khuldara. Addressing rumours of hauntings in the village, Nakul, who was our guide for the day, regaled us with the tale of an overnight exodus of 80 Paliwal Brahmin families from the region, sometime around 1825. With little or no written history, legends about the Paliwals disappearance are aplenty. The most common version deals with a licentious diwan who had set his sights on the village head’s daughter. “It is believed that the people cursed the village and no one has dared inhabit its ruins since,” explains Nakul, as we walked through rows of crumbled houses. While the lineage of this village comes to an abrupt halt, the ingenuity of their agrarian practices still benefit the indigenous communities of today. Perfecting a system of rain-water harvesting called a khadeen, the Paliwals used bunds and earthen mounds to collect rainwater for their cultivation. 

Making our way to our next stop, we drove by a Paliwal cremation ground, where the chhatris and cenotaphs lie in ruins and were victims to pillaging. We were told that headstones depicting Egyptians can also be found within the rubble. “These figures look different from the carvings that portray a Paliwal and his wife. They have a narrower waist, broader shoulders and wear a different headgear.”

<em>Evening chai in the Central Courtyard with a Manganiyar</em>
Evening chai in the Central Courtyard with a Manganiyar

Royal company

Representative of the green pastures and lush oases that welcome weary travellers in the desert, Suryagarh offers a Thar picnic as part of the desert road trip. Complete with a musician playing the Algoza, parasols and orange-turbaned waiters waiting to cater to our every whim, we settled down under the cool of the umbrellas a little while away from the village. Soon we were sipping on tall glasses of fresh watermelon juice and partaking in fresh cantaloupe and luscious grapes before we headed back. 

At Suryagarh, an unending smorgasbord of salads, breads and sausages filled the table top at Draksh, the bar. Its cool white walls speckled with gold presented a stark contrast to the intense heat and blinding sun outside. A cold German potato salad along with the succulent in-house pork bockwurst sausages with mustard piqued my interest, even as trays laden with chicken sliders, grilled chicken with caramelised chilli sauce and pizzas made their way to the table. Catering to your every fancy, rest assured no two dining experiences are the same here. 

<em>Setup for dinner on the dunes</em>
Setup for dinner on the dunes

In gifted hands 

With a three-hour break before we headed out, I quickly slipped into the spa. Its namesake, Rait, comes from the sea of rait (sand) upon which the structure is built. Offering two signature treatments— sand and salt—I decided on giving the sand a rest and opt for the Himalayan Pink Salt session. My masseuse, who prefered to be called PC, is deceptively slendered. To say the least, I was putty in her well-trained hands. A drowsy putty at that. Using hand-harvested salt from the banks of the Luni River that is known for its therapeutic qualities I was covered from head to toe in the river salt, and then wrapped in a muslin cloth as part of the Thermal Salt Therapy.

 At the end of the two-hour ritual, all I wanted to do is curl up into a ball and laze in my sprawling bed. But once again, the Thar beckoned and its oral histories and legends have a firm grip on me. We hurry back into the SUV and made it out into the vast desert as the orange setting sun turned the horizon into a purple haze. We were soon at the Bhil settlement in the region. One of the only settlements that has access to fresh water springs, Nakul barters a six-pack of cola with the children of the village for a drink from the well. “They recognise our cars and wait for us to make these trips,” he says with a smile. Created through much research, interaction with the locals in the region, geologists and archaeologists, Suryagarh’s desert trail offers guests a chance to partake in a chapter of history that seemingly has disappeared from local heritage. 

A wrinkle in time 

Our last day at Suryagarh was comparatively slow-paced. We were shown around the signature suites and havelis that were set away from the main hotel to maintain exclusivity and privacy. These residences draw extensively from the architectural designs that we have seen in the Khuldara village. As we made preparations for the culmination of our Thar trip, we brushed up on other local lore as we made quick stops at the ruins of the Loudharva—Jaisalmer’s ancient capital and the last wall from the haveli of the famed princess Moomal—perhaps the only physical evidence of the existence of the legend. 

The final meal at Jaisalmer was dedicated to the desert and the bedouins who have formerly traversed its expanse—a dinner on the dunes. I hopped aboard a camel-drawn cart, holding on for dear life and we trudged for a kilometre through nothingness. Just a million stars lighting the way as the shifting sands erased every sign of our journey. In that moment of absolute beauty, I was one with the desert, each of us holding onto our secrets and tales that are glossed over by the sands of time.

<em>The Suryagarh suite</em>
The Suryagarh suite

The writer was in Jaisalmer on the invitation of Suryagarh.

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