Flowers of Tijara Fort

The Aravali range is India’s oldest mountain range, ten times older than the youthful Himalayas that are still growing. This 400 mile “line of peaks” has been eroding for over 500 million years. The range cradles the Thar desert and stops the desert from taking over more of Rajasthan. In places, all that is left of the range are stubs. Mining of the Aravali is an ancient activity in itself. Copper mining dates back to 5th century BCE. I grew up in what was then a small town, Alwar. Most people know Alwar for its famous sweet, Kalakand. I, however, remember my time in Alwar for the Aravali range. I was fortunate to have an Aravali stub right opposite my primary school. For a child, a stub is as tall as a mountain and its base camp was only a hop skip and jump away from the school gate. My father was stationed in Alwar and occasionally, the family would tour the Alwar district with him. On these tours, we would naturally weave in and out of the Aravali range, sometimes with the sun high up in the sky. And on such occasions, the Aravali would glitter, the mica of the mountain range would reflect the sun. I continue to like my mountains, skies and oceans to glitter!

It is early summer right now and we are visiting family in India. Right now, the summer isn’t hot enough for the mangoes and it isn’t humid enough for the warm monsoons either. But early summer has its own charms. While the day time temperature rapidly climbs up to scorching 105F (40C), the early mornings and late evenings are as perfect as they come (70F/20C). We came upon a wonderful chance to visit the Tijara Fort, nestled on one such Aravali stub, now a Neemrana resort.

This overnight trip presented a lot more than flowers. But I want to dwell on the flowers for now. California was in early spring when I packed my suitcase for India and flowers are on my mind.

Flame of the forest: Also known as *Palash* or Dhak or Bengal Kino. The leaves of *palash* are rather large, but they had burnt off in the desert heat, leaving the tree laden with these bright orange blossoms. The tree that grew in the courtyard of Mardana Majal, was continuously shedding its flowers too. On our way back from the fort, I noticed dozens and dozens of these trees in the forests surrounding the foothills of Aravali range, all in fiery orange bloom.

Night flowering jasmine: Also known as Parijat or *Shiuli*. I noticed this tree while waiting for the Khajoor Mahal restaurant to open for breakfast. Back in Alwar, we had an expansive shiuli tree in our neighborhood temple. It would shed a tremendous number of flowers and in the morning, the floor of the tree would be littered with these flowers, their orange stalks sticking up in the air. My *thamma* (paternal grandma), during her visit to the temple, would collect as many as the pallu of her saree would hold and bring them to our home altar. I collected a few from the tree and left them at the nearby Karmeshwar Mahadev’s altar.

Rangoon creeper: Also known as *Madhumalati*. I saw a hummingbird, my first such sighting in India, grabbing a nightcap from a *Madhumalati* creeper growing in the Mardana Mahal courtyard. It reminded me of another *Madhumalati* creeper that used to grow vigorously around a large second story window of my dida’s (maternal grandma) home. Its hundreds of flowers would attract bees, and often, dozens of them would flit into the room, then my study room, scaring the wits out of me.

It turned out that near Tijara, the predominant hue of the Aravali is pinkish gray, it comes from predominance of quartzite. Many of the stubs around here look as if gouged by mammoth claws, those of modern excavators. My mom also reminded me that I have been to Tijara fort before. It was well before Neemrana’s effort of converting the dilapidated broken down fort into a chic shabby resort.

Written by locomotoring

April 6, 2025 at 6:29 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

Tagged with alwar, India, Neemrana, tijara, tijara-fort, travel

Locomotoring