Udaipur: A Dream in Every Detail

I recently returned from Udaipur, and even now, the city’s magic feels like it’s lingering in my heart. Known as the City of Lakes, Udaipur is a harmonious blend of romance, culture, and history. Its beauty unfolds slowly, like a story you don’t want to end. From tranquil lakes to grand palaces, from delicious food to enchanting music, Udaipur is a symphony of unforgettable experiences.

Adding to this unforgettable journey was a meeting with Maharaj Kumar Sahib Dr. Lakshyaraj Singh Ji Mewar of Udaipur. A gracious host and a remarkable individual, Lakshyaraj Ji welcomed us warmly, and our conversations spanned a range of meaningful topics—from family enterprises to philanthropy, from education in schools to advancing gender equality. For our next generation, it was a unique opportunity to meet and connect with the 77th generation scion of the Mewar dynasty—a living symbol of Udaipur’s rich history and legacy.

A Cup of Chai Under the Moonlight

One of my most cherished memories is of sipping chai by the lake. Now, you should know I’m quite picky when it comes to tea made outside. But in Udaipur? Every cup was perfection—smooth, comforting, and made exactly how I like it (after a few instructions, of course). Imagine this: a warm cup in hand, the moonlight shimmering on the water, and majestic palaces standing tall around you. It wasn’t just tea—it was pure magic.

The moon itself was a star of the trip. Every night, it rose over the city with an effortless grace, lighting up the clear skies and reflecting off the tranquil lakes below. Its beauty was almost hypnotic, making every evening feel like an ode to quiet wonder.

And then there were the flowers. Bright, vibrant, and blooming everywhere, they added splashes of color to every corner of the city. Whether cascading over walls or lining pathways, their beauty was a reminder of nature’s quiet ability to charm.

Sunsets, Reflections, and Palaces

If Udaipur’s nights are enchanting, its evenings are nothing short of breathtaking. The sunsets here are some of the most stunning I’ve ever seen. The sky transforms into a canvas of gold, orange, and pink, casting its hues over the city and its lakes. Watching the sun dip behind the Aravalli Hills, with its colors spilling across the water, was a sight I’ll never forget.

And then there are the palaces—grandeur personified. Built centuries ago, without the technology or machinery we rely on today, these architectural marvels are stories etched in stone. The intricate carvings, the sprawling courtyards, the attention to every detail—each palace whispers tales of royalty and vision.

The lakes, too, play their part. They don’t just surround the palaces—they become a part of their beauty. Whether in the soft glow of morning, the blazing light of day, or the fading hues of sunset, the lakes reflect the palaces in a way that feels like a work of art in constant motion.

Savoring the Flavors of Udaipur

Food in Udaipur is an adventure in itself, and for someone with a Marwari palate, it was an absolute delight. From ghee-rich daal baati churma to flavorful kair sangri, lehsan ki sabzi, and even papad ki sabzi, every meal felt like a warm embrace of tradition.

And yet, even something as simple as Maggi became special here. On a cool day, steaming noodles, I found joy in the simplicity of the moment.

Sukhadia Circle, with its small shops serving everything from chaat to sweets, was another highlight. And for fine dining with a view, places like Amrai and Darikhana at Jag Mandir combined delicious food with unforgettable settings. Eating by the lake, with palaces glowing in the distance, is an experience that elevates every bite.

Rajasthan in Rhythm

Udaipur’s cultural heartbeat comes alive in its folk dances and music. Watching Ghoomar, with its flowing skirts and graceful circles, is an unforgettable sight. The vibrant costumes and rhythmic movements create a spellbinding visual treat.

Dhola Maaru, a hauntingly beautiful ballad of love, struck a deep chord. Even without understanding every word, the melody felt universal, carrying emotions that transcend language.

What made these performances even more magical was the setting. Whether by a tranquil lakeside or within the historic courtyards of a palace, the atmosphere added layers of depth to every note and movement. It wasn’t just entertainment—it was immersion into Rajasthan’s living traditions.

Lakes and Legacy

The man-made lakes of Udaipur are a marvel of both beauty and ingenuity. Built centuries ago to meet the water needs of this arid city, they are lifelines disguised as romance. Whether it’s the iconic Lake Pichola, with its serene waters mirroring the palaces, or the picturesque Fateh Sagar Lake, framed by rolling hills, each one adds to Udaipur’s timeless allure.

The museums in Udaipur are equally captivating. The City Palace Museum offers an intimate glimpse into the lives of the maharajas, with its intricate designs and rich history. The Vintage Car Museum is a treasure trove of rare automobiles, each one telling its own story of elegance and style. And the Crystal Gallery? It’s beyond words—chandeliers and artifacts so exquisite they feel almost otherworldly.

A City That Stays with You

Udaipur isn’t just a place you visit; it’s a place you feel. Its lakes, palaces, food, and music weave a story that stays with you long after you leave. Meeting Lakshyaraj Ji added another layer to this journey—a chance to connect with the legacy of the Mewar dynasty and reflect on the values that continue to shape this historic city.

As I left, I realized that Udaipur isn’t just a destination—it’s a reminder of how deeply art, culture, and history can touch our lives.

Our own Daphne Du Maurier

After a long long time, I have come across a book, which is not a murder mystery or does not classify to be a thriller, which I was not able to put down. And no, it is not because of the story, it is because of the writing style. Well, that should not undermine the story which must be given the credit for being unique too.
We have had many authors of Indian origin doing well in the international literary circles. Inspite of their achievements, the writing style would be uniquely Indian. Take for example R.K.Narayan or V.S.Naipaul. The settings, the characters, the stories mostly revolve around India or Indians or people who reflect the Indian mindset.

Over the years I had begun to believe that Indians cannot write like Gabriel García Márquez or Daphne Du Maurier and why should they?
That Summer in Paris by Abha Dawesar was a pleasant surprise which changed the notion that authors of Indian origin cannot paint with words. I was struck by the beauty of words used by the author. I had not experienced such urge to keep on reading a book just to find out how is the author going to construct her next sentence since I read Rebecca by Du Maurier.

Read this: "The spoken word was more fluid than the written; it could be modified with new words and adapt itself to the situation". This sentence made me rethink my belief that writing down once's feelings is more appropriate than speaking them. Spoken words are definitely more fluid, hence may be more expressive. Some expressions cannot be written about.

On the other hand this senence: "...the yin and yang of my life, the occident and orient, have really been about whether to devour all your books swiftly-for the pleasure of the moment, or to abstain-so that a new one and its promises are always on the horizon"...is exactly the way I used to feel when I was reading "Shantaram" by Gregory David Roberts. I don't think anyone else could have put it so beautifully.

I had started associating with Shantaram so much that I did not want the story to ever get over. Everyday I would deliberately restrain myself from reading too many pages so that I could keep on reading the book for more number of days. And the day I finished reading the book, I felt a kind of emptiness. I felt a kind of loss which is difficult to write down, reinstating the authors words that "The spoken word was more fluid than the written".That Summer in Paris is not the first book by Abha Dawesar.

Her previous work "Babyji" was also critically acclaimed and recieved many awards. Though, I must admit that Babyji gave me the impression of another one of those Indian authors trying to get recognition by overtly using sex and desire as the theme. I found it a grotesque narration of a confused, zealous, curious and perhaps a perverted girl.

But, with her latest book, Abha Dawesar has taken a leap which puts her in the same league as Du Maurier, Gabriel García Márquez or Lord Byron, in my eyes. In some of the places, her sentences reminded me of "She Walks in Beauty" by Lord Byron. Read this: "The point at which it diverges from reality is exactly where it becomes true. Its so strange. By being so unreal, it creates reality". Please don't get me wrong.

What I mean is that the creation of her sentences struck me just like the creation of Lord Byron's sentences. Ofcourse Ms. Dawesar is only three books old (have not read her first book Miniplanner) and has a long way to go. It might be too early to shower so much praise on her. But then I am only talking about this one book. And That Summer in Paris is worth all the praise.

To admit or not to admit…That is the Question!

More than six years, more than 1200 episodes, more television awards than any other soap on the Indian television, more number of characters than you care to remember, more drama than ever seen on Indian television before, more generations than can ever come together in reality….thats Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi (KSBKBT).

Produced by Balaji Telefilms, the brainchild of Ekta Kapoor, who is the celebrated daughter of our own jumping jack of yesteryears, Jitendra, KSBKBT has been a subject of ridicule with the so called generation ‘X’. Well, actually it can be generalized to all the entire genre of the lovey-dovey-weepy-villainy soaps.

Why do people fall in love, why do they break up, why do they have extra marital affairs, why do they turn villainous, why and how do they scheme and plot so many things against each other, and above all, why do the ladies of the house keep crying all the time, is beyond the understanding of my generation people.

Making fun of those who watch such soaps and ridiculing everything about the characters, from the twentyish looking grandmother to the always overdressed Bahu’s, was something I considered to be my birthright, till fate took a 180 degree turn and hurled me on to the opposite camp!

It all started about two months back with giving company to a few others while they watched the episodes of KSBKBT religiously. Initially I spent all my time either reading a book or making fun of those watching the serial. Slowly, I was watching more of the serial and reading less. Then I stopped reading completely and started to discuss the serial with others who watched, and then a time came when I waited for the serial to start at 10.30 every night.

I am ashamed to admit that I have started watching the serial. Me? How can I watch a serial like this? I, who appreciates documentaries and art movies, how can I like meaningless stuff like KSBKBT? Well, the reality hits hard. The fact is that I have started enjoying the serial. It’s like a friend of mine once said, whether you like to admit or not, you get hooked on to Himesh Reshammia songs. ‘There is something about the nasal twang’, he said.

Similarly, there is something about KSKBT. From the background music of “Ram Ram Jai Raja Ram, Ram Ram Jai Sita Ram” to the dialogues of Tulsi, the episodes catch the imagination of the viewers. Will Tulsi come back to the palatial Virani house? Will she accept Mihir again? When they finally meet, for good, will Ekta Kapoor show that scene with Mihir sprinkling red color on Tulsi accidentally (the way it always happens when they meet)? Well when you are caught with such important questions, how can you stop watching the soap?

I guess the easy thing would be to just admit that it’s okay to watch such serials as long as you like them and are happy watching them. Wow, that’s some journey, from writing hard core finance articles to writing about KSBKBT. I guess the two can go hand in hand and I am definitely more at peace after admitting to the fact that I am addicted to the soap, just like I am addicted to the movement of the SENSEX.