17th January 2015
We bundled into our cars in Sujangarh, as we reached the last day of our rather interesting week in Rajasthan.
The town seemed to have some south Indian influence, as we saw a familiar gopuram by the roadside.
Lakshmi pleaded that we should have breakfast elsewhere, and so we landed up at Rama hotel, which was a vast improvement to our hotel, and we gorged on parottas, which kept coming from the kitchens.
Our souls were in a better state at the end of that, and we set off on our long journey east to Jaipur.
We were at the fag end of our trip, and it was with some regret, as I realized it would soon be back to work.
As I looked out of the window, I saw the by now familiar lopped Khejri trees, looking forlorn and leafless, standing over fallow fields.
And then suddenly there were these lines of lorries filled with salt.
We were closing in on Sambhar lake, the salt water lake of my childhood textbooks. I remember our Geography teacher droning on about how it was India's largest inland saline depression. I also remember never quite having it explained as to why it was saline!
Never did I think that one day I would actually visit this lake, far removed from the beaten track.
(It has always bugged me as to why it is called sambhar, my favourite gravy. (The same is true for the deer as well. ))
Located between Jaipur in the east and Ajmer to the west, it is now a designated Ramsar wetland.
We crossed a red brick, shabby building which announced the station - yes the lake has a station - and my sense of anticipation grew.
I thought of Pulicat and Chilika, the other estuarine backwater lagoons, with large expanses of water as far as the eye could see.
We turned a corner, and the cars halted at the edge of what looked like the local garbage dump.
Nabeel our guide said we had to walk past a little bund we saw. To my increasing shock and dismay, it seemed we were walking into the local village facility, we seemed to interrupt people in their toilet, and there was garbage and feces everywhere.
I still cannot get over it actually, how this could be a Ramsar site, and be so neglected. More than the birds then, it was the shocking state of the lake that hit me.
There were children playing cricket in these unhygienic conditions - on the dry lake bed, and we spoke to some of them, asking them why it was like this. They seemed to indicate that the village elders were unconcerned, there was not enough of toilet facilities, etc etc.
On my return I also read that there are two PSU salt companies - Sambhar Salts Limited and Bharat Salts - located here and working the salt pans. Why on earth have they not taken on the revival of this historical lake that is part of our ecological and environmental heritage?
Even Pallikaranai seems better off when compared to this lake.
Sambhar city relies on salt mining for its livelihood. Salt has been mined here from the 6th century AD when the Chauhans ruled, and has continued continuously to date.
How is this lake saline, though?
We were not unhappy to leave, frankly, a rather strange phenomenon for an MNS group which is always malingering.
I hope that I am able to raise some awareness of the urgent needs of this habitat.
We headed out to lunch and then set off for Jaipur on our way back home.
Further surprises awaited us, as we came to learn from indifferent Air Costa staff that our Chennai flight was cancelled. Of course they were "generous" enough to give us a full refund.
We then were all forced to book tickets on the Jaipur-Bangalore flight, thinking that it is better to come south than hang around there.
Then the question was how do we move from Bangalore to Chennai? A KSRTC bus that left at midnight was found by Kumar's enterprising daughter and tickets were booked online, as we raised a toast to the mobile phone and online booking!
So, deplane at Bangalore, rush madly to baggage claim, and a quick bathroom stop before we caught two cabs urging the drivers to drive us with speed to the bus stand in town.
Then we (in one cab) reach the well marked bus bays, and find a couple of people hanging around on the pavement, and asked them about the Chennai bus. They informed us that it was yet to come, so we hang around with them, while eyeing another bus that was idling ahead of us.
The second cab arrives, with Kumar's daughter, who asks us why we are waiting and not boarding the bus!! She had received an sms with the bus number, and the gents on the pavement were obviously unaware or spreading disinformation! Giggling hysterically, we got on, and made our way to the seats.
We continued to laugh until we dozed off fitfully, reaching the chaos of Koyambedu on the morning of the 18th, boarded a share auto and suffered a bone rattling ride all the way home.
A good bath, and a morning cup of strong filter coffee, and all was once again well with the world!
Rajasthan was now a memory.
The town seemed to have some south Indian influence, as we saw a familiar gopuram by the roadside.
Lakshmi pleaded that we should have breakfast elsewhere, and so we landed up at Rama hotel, which was a vast improvement to our hotel, and we gorged on parottas, which kept coming from the kitchens.
Our souls were in a better state at the end of that, and we set off on our long journey east to Jaipur.We were at the fag end of our trip, and it was with some regret, as I realized it would soon be back to work.
As I looked out of the window, I saw the by now familiar lopped Khejri trees, looking forlorn and leafless, standing over fallow fields.
 |
| Further east, and the trees were in leaf, as also the mustard fields. |
We were closing in on Sambhar lake, the salt water lake of my childhood textbooks. I remember our Geography teacher droning on about how it was India's largest inland saline depression. I also remember never quite having it explained as to why it was saline!
Never did I think that one day I would actually visit this lake, far removed from the beaten track.
(It has always bugged me as to why it is called sambhar, my favourite gravy. (The same is true for the deer as well. ))
Located between Jaipur in the east and Ajmer to the west, it is now a designated Ramsar wetland.
We crossed a red brick, shabby building which announced the station - yes the lake has a station - and my sense of anticipation grew.
I thought of Pulicat and Chilika, the other estuarine backwater lagoons, with large expanses of water as far as the eye could see.
We turned a corner, and the cars halted at the edge of what looked like the local garbage dump.
Nabeel our guide said we had to walk past a little bund we saw. To my increasing shock and dismay, it seemed we were walking into the local village facility, we seemed to interrupt people in their toilet, and there was garbage and feces everywhere.
I still cannot get over it actually, how this could be a Ramsar site, and be so neglected. More than the birds then, it was the shocking state of the lake that hit me.
There were children playing cricket in these unhygienic conditions - on the dry lake bed, and we spoke to some of them, asking them why it was like this. They seemed to indicate that the village elders were unconcerned, there was not enough of toilet facilities, etc etc.
On my return I also read that there are two PSU salt companies - Sambhar Salts Limited and Bharat Salts - located here and working the salt pans. Why on earth have they not taken on the revival of this historical lake that is part of our ecological and environmental heritage?
Even Pallikaranai seems better off when compared to this lake.
 |
| From Google maps |
 |
| A railway line cuts the lake - the side we are in (the western side) is the protected (rather, neglected) lake, left for the birds, while the other side is the salt pans. There is also a dam further east to regulate the water flow to the pans. |
How is this lake saline, though?
 |
| Greater flamingoes - yes, they were the main attraction and they stood in the middle of the lake, probably in half a foot of water. |
 |
| A pied Avocet tried to make the best of a bad deal scrounging in the murky waters. |
 |
| As we watched a train came rattling by on the track. The track dates back to British India, and was the line for transporting salt out of the region. |
 |
| The flamingoes decided they were better off in the air at this point, and circled in formation until the train passed. |
 |
| They came settling back down only after the train had moved on. |
 |
| At one point in the eighties there used to be lakhs of these birds, I read, not so anymore. Not enough water is reaching the lake as the frehwater channel/rivers are choked |
 |
| Lapwigs, stilts and godwits mucked around disconsolately (I thought). |
 |
| We even spotted a snipe |
 |
| And a wagtail |
I hope that I am able to raise some awareness of the urgent needs of this habitat.
We headed out to lunch and then set off for Jaipur on our way back home.
Further surprises awaited us, as we came to learn from indifferent Air Costa staff that our Chennai flight was cancelled. Of course they were "generous" enough to give us a full refund.
We then were all forced to book tickets on the Jaipur-Bangalore flight, thinking that it is better to come south than hang around there.
Then the question was how do we move from Bangalore to Chennai? A KSRTC bus that left at midnight was found by Kumar's enterprising daughter and tickets were booked online, as we raised a toast to the mobile phone and online booking!
So, deplane at Bangalore, rush madly to baggage claim, and a quick bathroom stop before we caught two cabs urging the drivers to drive us with speed to the bus stand in town.
Then we (in one cab) reach the well marked bus bays, and find a couple of people hanging around on the pavement, and asked them about the Chennai bus. They informed us that it was yet to come, so we hang around with them, while eyeing another bus that was idling ahead of us.
The second cab arrives, with Kumar's daughter, who asks us why we are waiting and not boarding the bus!! She had received an sms with the bus number, and the gents on the pavement were obviously unaware or spreading disinformation! Giggling hysterically, we got on, and made our way to the seats.
We continued to laugh until we dozed off fitfully, reaching the chaos of Koyambedu on the morning of the 18th, boarded a share auto and suffered a bone rattling ride all the way home.
A good bath, and a morning cup of strong filter coffee, and all was once again well with the world!
:(
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