As we drove through the arid landscape of the Rann of Kutch, our driver narrated an incident from the night before. A young man from Tamil Nadu entered the drivers’ tent. He had arrived by train that morning and had hitchhiked his way from Bhuj Railway Station. Having spent all his money on the train ticket, he was seeking a place for the night. His wallet was empty; he wasn’t worried about his living arrangements, he said — a cot under the stars would do just fine — and he could do without food for a day or two. It was his burning desire to see the White Desert once in his lifetime, so here he was. Could anyone give him a lift to the Great Rann the next day?
“Someone offered him a ride to the check post,” said Bawaji, our driver. “And all the drivers contributed Rs. 50 each so the man could see the Salt Desert and eventually make his way back home.”
Such is the draw (and the spirit) of the Rann. On a good day, it looks like a madly photoshopped work of art — like a white background sans subject. On a bad day, it is reminiscent of a fun fair. The Rann surprises you with its remoteness and solitude in a shrinking world but remains within easy reach for those who wish to explore it. In peak season (November to March), you will find accommodation if you’re lucky. There are few places where you can stay near the desert. Of these, Hodka is a small oasis-refuge of sorts. Its Shaam-e-Sarhad resort is a community initiative and a successful experiment in endogenous tourism supported by the Ministry of Tourism and the United Nations. The bhungas or traditional mud huts of the region, and tents, lend to the authenticity of the place and are comfortable enough, looked after by its staff of local villagers trained in hospitality.
A region of artisans, Hodka and its neighbouring villages are a textile lover’s Mecca. The Meghwal community is known for its ‘ pakko ’ embroidery, a 500-year-old tradition among the families in the Banni region. Meanwhile, in nearby Nirona, a single village path houses an illustrious family of Rogan artists alongside bell metal craftsmen and lacquer work artists. Rogan art is created with a metal pin dipped in a mixture of castor oil residue and mineral dyes. Its fine motifs are drawn by dropping this mixture onto one side of a cloth that is then folded to form a perfect mirror image. The Khatris of Nirona are the only surviving Rogan artists today. Meanwhile, there’s appliqué work in Dordo, and further away in Bhujodi, camel wool shawls are woven on pit-looms. Everywhere, mirror-work embroidery abounds. Some of the arts here date back centuries if not to the time of the Harappan civilisation.
In Hodka, the nights are magical; stars are suspended like diamond teardrops in a vast midnight blue sky and the silence broken only by the call of a jackal in the dead of the night. Only 30-odd kilometres from Pakistan, it has the feel of a border village. In fact, Shaam-e-Sarhad means exactly that — an evening by the border.
The border stretches across other towns, including the deserted ruins of Lakhpat, where you can look into the vast grey sea from the BSF viewpoint and imagine Karachi on the other side. The port of Mandvi, meanwhile, surprises visitors with its clear blue waters and clean beaches. Wherever you go, cattle herders, camel owners, guides and drivers will point somewhere in the direction of the setting sun— across the ocean or over mountains like the Kala Dungar, saying, “That’s Pakistan.” Stories abound too, of relatives on the other side who may never be able to visit their country of origin — of doomed marriages and siblings who traversed the India Bridge during friendlier times but who now find it impossible to meet their families in India.
The Rann of Kutch has seen a surge in tourism since its successful advertising and yet its feathered winter visitors far outnumber the two-legged variety. It is a haven for birders (particularly flamingo-seekers), with its migratory painted storks, cranes and pelicans, Egyptian vultures, native wheatears and rosy starlings, among hundreds of other species. A few hours away from the Great Rann, past the nomadic dwellings of the dairy-selling Jat tribe, past the wires with their dancing green bee-eaters and black-shouldered kites, and past the capital, Bhuj, is the Little Rann Sanctuary that is visited, apart from its wealth of birdlife, for the Khur or the Wild Ass. And not too far from here lie the spectacular heritage sites of Modhera and Patan.
