As the sun went for the usual dip below the horizon, I embarked on a longish walk, from one end of the dune to the other (about 4 kms). Dunes are like near-harmless seas. Water can drown you, sand won’t let you. The only danger it poses is that of getting disoriented. Looking at my own footsteps in the sand, I realized how I was never walking straight even if I wanted to and hence how easy it was to be lost once it was dark.
Walking alone, I soon got enthralled by the beauty of the brown ocean with seemingly stationery waves. The silence and the vast expanse of nothingness had an inexplicable charm of its own. At one moment, you would let out a gasp of delightful surprise, at another, you might just want to kneel down and close your eyes. Often you would also experience those sudden spurts of energy in which you would want to run over the convex side of the dune and slide down the concave side, knee deep in sand.
Having spent a few hours on the dunes, I finally decided to retrace my steps back to the camping place, which I readily got confused with. Liyaqat found me after an hour and took me back down the dunes with impressive ease. A dinner of quarter-an-inch rotis this time, alongwith curry, maggi and beer followed, as innumerable desert beetles worked tirelessly to collect camel droppings and roll them over to god knows where.
Post-dinner, Liyaqat continued his ‘joking-toking’ stories about his exploits with white females who had undertaken long desert safaris with him. Another interesting fact that came up was his reason for being single till date. It isn’t often that you hear of disadvantages of being a male, but here is one, in case you are born in one of the Muslim villages in Rajasthan, adjoining Pakistan. Unlike most of India, where males are gifted dowries for having married a girl, Liyaqat’s family would need to cough up atleast 100,000 Rs to the bride’s father. The lucky father of the daughter would gift away about half the amount back to the daughter as she leaves her father’s house while the rest of the money could stay with the father. Similar practices are known to exist in some societies of the North-Eastern states in India. In this case, Liyaqat admitted, the sex ratio was heavily biased towards males and it was too difficult to find a girl.
With these revelations, I slept under the beautiful crystal clear skies where, it seemed, that a hundred thousand new twinkling lamps were glowing full throttle to prevent me from sleeping in the open on the dunes. When the lamps failed to dent my sleep, the dust storm decided to take the lead. I was bathed in sheer sand by strong winds blowing from south, south-west. After an hour long struggle, I simply covered my face with a dirty piece of linen and shut myself off.
Next day morning was comforting as I came to know that even the seasoned camel man had troubles sleeping off. Finishing off the morning chores, drinking sanded tea and toast, we prepared the camels and headed back towards the road. 4 more hours of arse-wrecking camel ride and I was back on the road, in a 4-wheel drive, racing towards Jaisalmer.
Walking alone, I soon got enthralled by the beauty of the brown ocean with seemingly stationery waves. The silence and the vast expanse of nothingness had an inexplicable charm of its own. At one moment, you would let out a gasp of delightful surprise, at another, you might just want to kneel down and close your eyes. Often you would also experience those sudden spurts of energy in which you would want to run over the convex side of the dune and slide down the concave side, knee deep in sand.
Having spent a few hours on the dunes, I finally decided to retrace my steps back to the camping place, which I readily got confused with. Liyaqat found me after an hour and took me back down the dunes with impressive ease. A dinner of quarter-an-inch rotis this time, alongwith curry, maggi and beer followed, as innumerable desert beetles worked tirelessly to collect camel droppings and roll them over to god knows where.
Post-dinner, Liyaqat continued his ‘joking-toking’ stories about his exploits with white females who had undertaken long desert safaris with him. Another interesting fact that came up was his reason for being single till date. It isn’t often that you hear of disadvantages of being a male, but here is one, in case you are born in one of the Muslim villages in Rajasthan, adjoining Pakistan. Unlike most of India, where males are gifted dowries for having married a girl, Liyaqat’s family would need to cough up atleast 100,000 Rs to the bride’s father. The lucky father of the daughter would gift away about half the amount back to the daughter as she leaves her father’s house while the rest of the money could stay with the father. Similar practices are known to exist in some societies of the North-Eastern states in India. In this case, Liyaqat admitted, the sex ratio was heavily biased towards males and it was too difficult to find a girl.
With these revelations, I slept under the beautiful crystal clear skies where, it seemed, that a hundred thousand new twinkling lamps were glowing full throttle to prevent me from sleeping in the open on the dunes. When the lamps failed to dent my sleep, the dust storm decided to take the lead. I was bathed in sheer sand by strong winds blowing from south, south-west. After an hour long struggle, I simply covered my face with a dirty piece of linen and shut myself off.
Next day morning was comforting as I came to know that even the seasoned camel man had troubles sleeping off. Finishing off the morning chores, drinking sanded tea and toast, we prepared the camels and headed back towards the road. 4 more hours of arse-wrecking camel ride and I was back on the road, in a 4-wheel drive, racing towards Jaisalmer.
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