In the state of Rajasthan, there is a small village near the Thar Desert called Pushkar. It has hundreds of temples and is home to the infamous Camel Fair in November, but is also a mystical place for the wanderers and the gypsies of the world.
After our mega journey to Nepal and back to Delhi, we visited Pushkar for a few days before returning to Goa.
It is said that the Pushkar Lake appeared when Brahma dropped a lotus flower. At dusk, reverberations of drums and gongs hum through the city, and if you manage to score a roof top view, the silhouette of Pushkar is a beautiful sight.
Even though many tourists and those on pilgrimage visit Pushkar, it remains enchantingly small and shanti. The streets are an endless, windy bazaar of clothing, jewelry, and a menagerie of goods.
And like the rest of India, there are cows everywhere! I think the narrow streets and close feelings of the area make the cows more friendly. Some of them even go on specific routes for their daily snacks. The man on the left with the white cow keeps a loaf of bread and says that the cow visits every morning, but only once.
Sadly, a lot of them are definitely starving. The whole cow thing in this country really gets my knickers in a knot! They are sacred, or rather, taboo, in Hindu culture as abundant food suppliers. Krishna, that cool blue guy, was also a cow herder. But in a twisted reality, that means that they don’t get killed ever and the ones that stop producing milk are just left to roam free. . .which means More stray cows, More starving cows, More obstacles on the roads, and truthfully, it’s mean and quite the opposite of respectful for such a being that is revered so “highly.”
I like to save any food scraps I can to give to the cows so that’s one less meal of garbage they have to eat. This one fine afternoon, after a delicious falafel plate, I saved a piece of pita bread for one lucky cow. She was outside the restaurant when I spotted her trying to eat an old scarf that somebody had chucked aside. Yes, I said scarf.
I called out to the pretty cow and she turned towards me–the blue scarf hanging from her mouth, wiggling, trying to get the fabric down her throat. I pulled out the pita bread, a twinkle glowed in her eyes, and that damn scarf flew out of her mouth to make room for my gift. She ate the pita bread and seemed quite happy about it. I was happy, too.
One evening at sunset, we sat on the roof of our guesthouse and watched the monkeys jump around the roof tops. I took it as another sign of the Monkey year!
Pushkar has an inspiring vibe. Most of the travelers who visit are business gypsies–designing clothes, jewelry, you name it. There’s a certain buzz about the streets with so many people creating something in one, small place. If you come to India, do yourself a favor and visit this magical spot.
Two blissful days in Pushkar and then we headed back to our special Anjuna. . .I was so happy to see my golden babies and the glorious sunset view from our home.