Bhangarh in Rajasthan may be insignificant on the chart of tourists but its legend, often eerie, compels many of us to visit this part of the State, says Susmita Mukherjee
We decided to head for the Sariska sanctuary for the weekend. But the road had other plans. One wrong turn is what took us away from the serene greens of Sariska and onto a bumpy, single-lane State highway. We were quite a distance along this road before we could realise our mistake. In the true spirit of travellers, we decided to see whatever came our way. The scene that unfolded before us was mesmerising. On one hand was a lovely shade of light green — on trees and the grass as far as the eyes could see. On the other hand was a shade of dusty brown — skeleton trees with their black barks sprung out of the barren rocks as they were blenched and blasted to dust by a fierce sun.
We drove past several hamlets with the unique appearance of rustic Rajasthan. The door to every house was left open, a sign of utmost trust among neighbours. Women went about their chores and children played in the courtyards. We were not sure where we were headed and soon, we came across a signboard pointing towards Bhangarh. The signboard sparked instant interest within us as we had heard a lot about this haunted place. Strangely, the locals we met along the way weren’t too happy with our decision to visit the place. Their demeanour went from friendly to cold as soon as we mentioned the name of our destination. After a good two hours, we were at our wit’s end and finally somewhere close to Bhangarh. We parked our vehicle in a seemingly natural village and headed towards the fort.
Nothing could have prepared us for what we witnessed as we walked into the deserted town. A cobbled path reminded us of the wealthy days that the town had seen before and given the rows of little box-shaped rooms along the road, this was once the busy market with little shops flanking the roads. Set against a steep slope of the Aravalli, the now abandoned market place could have been scenic, even romantic.
My mind, however, kept going back to the signboard we saw at the entrance: “Visitors not allowed after sunset.” Of course, we had read all about how the ruins of Bhangarh supposedly come to life in the dark. We heard several stories about Bhangarh and its fate from the few willing locals we chanced upon. The popular version talks about the beautiful Princess Ratnavati who was well-read in the occult along with being extraordinarily beautiful. A tantrik saw her at the window and fell in love with her. He tried to smuggle in a love potion to her as her bathing oil but the clever princess hurled the potion to the ground. As the potion touched the ground, it turned into a boulder and hurled towards the tantrik, who was crushed under its force. In his last breath, he cursed the princess and her reign for being so cruel and prophesied its end. Panic spread and people, royal and otherwise, immediately left the town and moved to safer quarters.
Another legend is that Guru Balu Nath cursed the town for casting a shadow on him while he was meditating. He had warned the residents of the town never to construct anything to cast a shadow on him but many years later, one of the descendants did not pay heed, resulting in total annihilation. Yet another story that we heard was that the tantriks had gained power in these parts and had tried to take over the town as their own. However, they were unsuccessful as the temples of the fort compound remained untouched by their curse, though it sent the residents scampering for safety.
Whatever the truth of Bhangarh, every version of its history is laced with the occult powers and speaks of vices like vanity, jealousy and greed. It is not unnatural to feel a certain jab of fear in your senses in such a surrounding. We walked around the compound searching for surprises. The Krishna temple, a massive structure that is intricately carved and stands untouched by the curse that brought down the rest of the town, inspires awe and devotion. As we scaled the massive stone steps to the assembly hall of the temple, we were not sure what we would find. Minutes later, standing in front of an empty sanctum sanctorum, everything seemed so surreal.
As for the fort, it stinked of bat excreta. My friends and I found several markings on the walls of the fort and in dark corners of the empty rooms that signified frequent visits by tantriks till today.
Exhausted, physically and mentally, we took a seat in the lawns outside the fort. There was still time for the sun to set but the Aravallis seemed to advance the event. As the sun started to slip behind the range, a giant shadow started enveloping everything in sight. The hot air around us instantly turned into a chilly breeze and we felt rather eerie in those surroundings. As we watched, wordlessly, the rest of our fellow visitors made a beeline for the main gate. A smaller gate saw the orderly exit of some goats that had come in to graze. The shepherd was not in sight but the goats seemed to know that it was time to leave the place. My friends and I decided to wait a while longer. The sudden loud screech of a babbler bird was enough to get us on our feet and almost running to the gate.
By the time we reached our hotel, we were laughing at ourselves for having felt so scared without seeing anything at all. With Bhangarh now a safe distance away, it was easy to pretend that nothing had ever happened.
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