Okay, we did stop to take pictures of a brick making factory and its kilns, because it was incredible to watch an artisan process that really hasn’t changed in centuries. Brick-making observation was thirsty work, so we stopped for chai. Because…chai! (image credit: all photos unless otherwise noted are ©Jayalakshmy Ayyer & Janine Smith)

Then we stopped for lunch in the upstairs dining room where the ‘stairs’ were actually a ladder leaning against the outside of the building. Risk life and limb for parathas? SO worth it!

The delays allowed Jaya to tell us the horrifying/ romantic/ heartbreaking story of the ancient fort. Some early stories mention an 8th century fort, the pivotal link in the defense of the Mewar kingdom. Historical records document three main sieges by Mughal invaders, beginning in 1303. That one, according to legend anyway, started with a queen named Padmini. She was a legendary beauty, wife of the Rajput ruler Ratan Singh. As Chittogarh was the most powerful fort guarding the Hindu Mewar kingdom against Moslem Mughal invaders, it was a natural target. But according to legend, their leader, Sultan Alauddin Khilji, heard of Padmini’s extraordinary beauty and requested the king to allow him to see her just once. As it was the custom that women covered their heads in presence of strangers (men), it wasn’t possible to allow this. But on repeated requests the king relented and showed her reflection in a mirror as Padmini was in her palace at the lower level. This mirrored glimpse made Alauddin desperate to possess the queen and he laid siege to the fort.

When defeat was certain, Indian women would sometimes commit jauhar—a ritual suicide by fire. This was not the sati practiced by Hindu widows on the death of a husband. Instead it was a chivalric suicide committed—usually in Hindu/Moslem conflicts—in the name of preserving the women’s honor, and only when catastrophic loss is imminent and inevitable. Typically this was accompanied by saka, in which the men march out to face inevitable death. [Image credit: Jauhar scene from controversial movie Padmaavat directed by Sanjay Leela Bhansali and loosely—some say very loosely—based on epic poem Padmavat written in 1540 by Sufi poet Malik Muhammad Jayasi. The movie sparked riots across India before its release in 2018.] 

End of the story? Not at all. The defeated ruler’s grandson managed to regain control of the fort for his dynasty. But Chittorgarh remained a tempting target. When Sultan Bahadur Shah of Gujarat attacked the fort in 1535, the Queen Mother, Rani Jawaharbhai, led her army to sata on the battlefield, while another 13000 women committed the second jauhar of Chittorgarh when their queen lit massed gunpowder inside the fort. [image credit: Princess Padmavati, ca. 1765, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Paris]

Our first stop was the Vijaya Stambha, the huge, densely-carved victory tower erected by Rana Kumbha, the warrior-king who constructed and/or rebuilt the virtually impenetrable defensive line of 84 fortresses guarding the Mewar kingdom. To celebrate his victory over the combined armies of Malwa and Gujarat led by Mahmud Khilji, the tower was constructed in 1440 and dedicated to Vishnu.**
**[From the Winner-Tells-All files… Interestingly, after the same battle, the Malwa ruler, Sultan Mahzmud also built a Victory Tower at Mandu in 1443. However, since his was a mere seven-stories, and is now in ruins, I’m guessing bragging rights rest with the Chittorgarh Victory Tower.]

We were told the views from the top of the nine-story (118 feet/36m) tower are amazing. We were also told the steeply ancient steps were very narrow and winding, and involved careful negotiations between those ascending and descending. We decided photos of the gorgeous exterior carvings would be fine.

After the tower, we wandered through other ruined palaces and buildings, and on to the 11th century Shiva temple complex, Samadhisvara Temple.

It was heartbreaking to see the once-gorgeous Hindu temples whose carvings were deliberately smashed by victorious Mughal conquerors so they could never be used for worship again.

We saw the 14th century Kalika Mata Temple, built on the site of a destroyed 8th century Sun Temple.

Indian tourist attempting to feed his wife to the local monkeys. One of the enduring mysteries of India is how many tourists think monkeys are adorable—instead of wily, agile, strong, and (let’s face it) opportunistically vicious. We watched, amazed, as parents encouraged their unsuspecting children to feed and even pet the monkeys, with the predictable and often bloody results.

Her royal in-laws were Not Pleased. They felt a more dutiful widow would show proper family feeling by worshiping their familial deity, not wearing ankle bracelets made of strings of bells, and of course, committing sati (ritual suicide). [image credit: pxfuel.com]

Meera Temple at Chittorgarh Fort. Finally all agreed Meerabai was a saint whose devotion to Krishna protected her from all harm. She built an exquisite temple in Chittorgarh, but left the in-laws-from-hell behind to travel, dance, compose poetry and song, and live the life of the Bhakti saint-poet.

While we marveled at mass suicides and princess-poets, our driver Dashrath was exploring his inner warrior, complete with costume and horse.

Our last stop was the seasonally-dry lake where Queen Padmini’s bathing palace stood with its beautiful stepwell, site of Sultan Alauddin Khilji’s legendary glimpse of her in a mirror.