"Kot Jewar" Village /Jaipur - A Travelogue, Part 1
Friends, life doesn't begin with traveling; a place calls you, and you have to go there; this is the law of destiny! I experienced this firsthand once again during my life's journey, which I am attempting to present as a travelogue, chronicling 25 days of my life.
It so happened that the Ministry of Textiles, Government of India, selected me as a National Designer (Empanelment Designer), and, creating an opportunity for the Jaipur Blue Pottery artisans to become proficient and refined in their craft, officially appointed me to train as an instructor in Kot Jewar Village, Jaipur.
I was to complete this training under the supervision of the Indian Institute of Crafts, Jaipur. I received a phone call from the Indian Institute of Crafts, Jaipur, informing me that a workshop would be held in Kot Jewar village, Jaipur, on February 27th, 2026, with Jaipur Blue Pottery's craft master, Mr. Lalaram Prajapat, and 30 other artisans from the same village. Therefore, I must arrive at the Pawan Blue Pottery Art Center in Kot Jewar, Jaipur, on February 27th at 10:00 AM.
On February 26th, 2026, I began my journey from Bikaner on a Rajasthan Transport Corporation (Redways) bus, amid a private bus blockade. I found a bus from Bikaner to Sikar city waiting at the Bikaner bus stand. I boarded it, hoping to reach Jaipur by the evening of February 26th. The bus departed from the Bikaner bus stand at the scheduled time and dropped me off at the Sikar bus stand around 4:00 PM. Now, I had to catch a bus from Sikar to Jaipur. But the traffic jam caused several Jaipur-bound buses to pass me by. I couldn't even get on the bus due to the overwhelming crowds. I didn't even want to. Then a bus arrived, and I somehow managed to get a seat and a ticket. It was now certain that I would reach Jaipur on time, February 26th. And that's exactly what happened. At around 7:30, the bus dropped me off at the main Sindhi Camp Jaipur bus stand. I consoled myself that I had finally reached Jaipur and called my mother to inform her that I had arrived without any problems.
From the Sindhi Camp bus stand, I headed towards Polovicky, where the Rama Hotel, once a hotel and now a dormitory for Bikaner residents, stands, right on the main road. For me, the Rama Hotel and its manager have always been a successful protector. Because he's also from Bikaner, and this hotel belongs to Rama Modi, the son of a friend of my grandfather, the late Shri Bulaki Das Purohit. So, we have a long-standing family connection. I introduced myself at the Rama Hotel counter, filled in the register with my reason for coming to Jaipur and a brief introduction. I provided a copy of my Aadhaar card, and received a bed and a small locker. I placed my suitcase, water bottle, and laptop in the locker, locked it myself, and rested for a while on the bed I'd been provided with.
The dormitory beds at Rama Hotel Polovicky are made of iron, with traditional woven sheets. They come with a khadi sheet and a pillow, also with a khadi cover. Filtered and bore water is available for drinking. A bathroom and toilet are available for bathing and daily ablutions. Fan air is available for cooling, and a blanket is available for covering if the air feels cold. It's like India's unique post-independence Swaraj. If a traveler gets even this much facility in a foreign city, then his journey becomes easy and convenient! For me, the advantage was that the people of Hotel Bikaner, I am also from Bikaner and most of the people staying there are also from Bikaner, so in Jaipur also I got the atmosphere of Bikaner. Besides, the hotel owner and his staff were also from Bikaner, that too was my mini Bikaner for me, for my easy and comfortable stay in Jaipur!
After resting for a while, around 8:30 PM, I felt hungry. So, for dinner, I headed to the eatery located in the lane behind Rama Hotel—a place situated within Hotel Rajhans, which is owned by my friend Mahaveer Upadhyay and my junior in the arts field, Master Shriram Upadhyay (both from Bikaner). There, I enjoyed a home-style meal—prepared without garlic or onions! After finishing my dinner, I spent the time until 10:00 PM sharing my creative work online, after which I retired to my bed to sleep. Before drifting off, I happened to run into an old schoolmate from B.K. School, Bikaner—my classmate from 10th grade, Master Ravi Suthar. He is now a lawyer who frequently travels out of town for his professional work. I asked him, "Hey buddy, could you wake me up tomorrow morning at 5:00 AM?" He immediately replied, "My eyes open at exactly 5:00 AM anyway; you just sleep without a worry!" Now, how could I tell my friend that my eyes, too—attuned to the demands of the moment—often wake me up even before the scheduled time! The very next morning, on February 27th, I actually woke up at 4:40 AM. I was just beginning to shake off my slumber and return to full consciousness when my friend Ravi called out, "Yogendra! It’s five o'clock! You need to reach Kotjewar on time, don't you? Wake up!" I replied, "Thank you, my friend! If one is to have a friend, they should be just like you!" Being woken up in this manner by a friend in a different city stirred up nostalgic memories of my days back home. It reminded me of those times during exam season when a family member would wake me up ahead of schedule, saying, "Wake up! You have to go take your exam!" It was that very same sentiment that my friend Ravi Suthar evoked within me as he roused me from my sleep.
I fully roused myself, completed my morning ablutions, and by 6:00 AM, I had packed my essentials into my bag and donned my artisan's identity card around my neck. I then accepted a cup of tea—brewed with that authentic Bikaneri flavor—from a staff member at Rama Hotel, enjoyed my drink, paid the 15 rupees for it, and by exactly 6:30 AM, I had reached the road leading toward Sindhi Camp. I arrived at Sindhi Camp Road early in the morning—a thoroughfare usually bustling with private buses heading to Khatu Shyam Baba—but on the morning of the 27th, the road appeared nearly deserted due to a traffic blockade. From there, I made my way to the bus stop for buses bound for Sodhala, located about a kilometer away from Sindhi Camp. At the bus stop, I caught the very first bus heading to Sodhala; it dropped me off there after charging a fare of 10 rupees. Now, I needed transport from Sodhala to Bagru; I was unfamiliar with the route and had also arrived ahead of schedule. Consequently, the driver of a jeep—which was used to transport schoolteachers—noticed my predicament and kindly invited me to take a seat in the back of his vehicle. One of the teachers seated inside the jeep asked, "Who is this?" to which the driver replied, "He is heading to Bagru; I’ve given him a lift." The jeep departed from Sodhala at exactly 7:00 AM and, without stopping at any intermediate stops, drove straight to Bagru, dropping me off at the Bagru stand at precisely 7:30 AM for a fare of just 40 rupees.
I handed him a fifty-rupee note. The management and collection of fares within the jeep appeared to be under the control of one of the teachers. She promptly informed me, "We don't have change for 10 rupees." Placing my hand on the driver's shoulder, I replied, "No worries at all; you can keep it." With those words, I stepped away from the jeep, and the driver, smiling, drove his vehicle further down the road.
Standing at the Bagru stand, I enjoyed a cup of tea at a roadside stall. I also inquired with the tea vendor about the available transport options for the next leg of my journey—the remaining distance to Kot Jevar. From the information I gathered, I learned that a bus known as the "DM bus" runs toward Boraj; if I boarded that bus, it would drop me off at the "Kot Mod" (Kot Junction) just before Boraj, from where I could reach Kot Jevar by walking the remaining three or four kilometers.
A short while later—around 8:00 AM—I managed to catch the mini-bus known as the "DM bus." After picking me up, he paused briefly at Mahlan before finally dropping me off at the Kot turnoff, just before Boraj. The journey from Sindhi Campus to the Kot turnoff had covered a total distance of 40 to 42 kilometers—and all within a mere hour and a half to two hours! Now, I had to walk the remaining three kilometers from the Kot turnoff. So, mustering my courage, I set out; the morning air was cool and peaceful, accompanied by the unfamiliar silence of a new place. However, I awakened the "Army Man" within me and began my foot march. Before long, the village of Kotjevar came into view. Its road was a single-lane track—broken and battered by the recent rains—with high-tension power lines running overhead. Further ahead lay a seasonal lake, spanned by a small bridge; crossing it, I continued my walk toward Kotjevar village. At the village entrance stood a massive tree, appearing as though it were welcoming every person entering the village. I captured a photograph of that tree on my mobile phone and even gave it a name: "Vriksh Dada" (Grandfather Tree). Moving just past Vriksh Dada, I spotted a paved cement road leading toward the Government School. Seeing the hustle and bustle of children in their school uniforms—boys and girls clad in shades of blue and deep blue—brought me a sense of relief, affirming that in this village of Kotjevar, the sun of education rises, shining brightly through the medium of a government institution. Right next to the school stood a small hillock, and winding up from it was a path leading toward the home of the Craft Master, Shri Lalaram Prajapat. I set my steps upon that very path, and shortly thereafter, I arrived at my destination: the Pawan Blue Pottery Art Centre in Kotjevar, Jaipur. The clock at that moment read approximately 9:10 AM; by arriving ahead of schedule, I presented tangible proof of my commitment to punctuality and work—not only to the Craft Master, Shri Lalaram Prajapat, but to his family as well.
In the village of Kot Jewar, Craft Master Shri Lalaram Prajapat holds a distinct identity and commands immense respect. This is because, after retiring from the 'Kripal Kumbh Jaipur Blue Pottery Centre'—an institution established and managed by the late Padma Shri Kripal Singh Shekhawat for the advancement of Jaipur Blue Pottery—he returned to his native village of Kot Jewar. There, operating from his own residence, he resumed his work in Jaipur Blue Pottery and, in the process, taught the craft to the entire village community. Both men and women from the village became his students, eager to master the art of Jaipur Blue Pottery. Through his dedicated efforts, Craft Master Shri Lalaram Prajapat succeeded in preserving both the art of Jaipur Blue Pottery and the village community itself; by creating employment opportunities and a sense of identity right within the village, he effectively stemmed the tide of rural migration. For this achievement, he is undoubtedly deserving of accolades; furthermore, in my view, he is truly worthy of receiving one of the Government of India's highest honors, such as the Padma Shri.
Upon entering Craft Master Shri Lalaram Prajapat’s workshop—or studio—I was warmly welcomed by his two sons, Master Mukesh Prajapat and Master Ramniwas Prajapat. They listened intently as I recounted the story of my solo journey to reach their studio, after which they served me their first cup of tea for the morning. Over tea, I was informed that officials—Shri Dharmendra Singh from the Indian Institute of Crafts and another representative from the Handicrafts Service Centre (Government of Rajasthan)—were scheduled to arrive at 10:00 AM. As I looked around the studio, I saw that every corner was filled exclusively with materials and finished products related to Jaipur Blue Pottery—some still in their raw, unfired state, and others already fired and complete. Some artisans were busy at work on their Blue Pottery pieces, while others were just arriving at the studio to participate in the ongoing Jaipur Blue Pottery training camp. The participants included both women and men from the village. Craft Master Shri Lalaram Prajapat and his two sons introduced me to these artisans as well; during these introductions, I was respectfully addressed by the title of "Sir."
In no time at all—as the hands of the clock moved swiftly—the scheduled time for the camp arrived. Just then, Shri Dharmendra Singh from the Indian Institute of Crafts and Shri Sajjan Singh Chaudhary from the Handicrafts Service Centre also arrived at the venue. I, too, arrived to welcome them, accompanied by Craft Master Shri Lalaram Prajapat and the artisans from his village. In keeping with Indian tradition, they were welcomed with a *tilak* and garlands of flowers—a ceremony in which I, too, was honored with a *tilak* and a garland. We then proceeded to the main hall, where the training camp and workshop for Jaipur Blue Pottery was scheduled to commence. A banner representing the Indian Institute of Crafts and the Handicrafts Service Centre was displayed on the hall's wall. Subsequently, the two officials facilitated introductions—introducing me to all the artisans, and vice versa—and explained the operational framework of the camp, providing the artisans with details regarding the benefits they would derive from the program. I, too, addressed the group, stating that for the next 25 days, I would strive to become an integral part of their families and their work; by working alongside them, I would endeavor to help them refine their Blue Pottery—making it more accessible and better aligned with market demands—thereby seeking to ensure their economic benefit. I also presented a demonstration on my laptop, showcasing new pottery designs as a practical exercise for everyone to view and understand. All the participants observed the presentation and made an earnest effort to grasp the concepts. I explicitly addressed the female artisans, urging them to regard me as a brother-in-law (*devar* or *jeth*) for the duration of these 25 days; I encouraged them to work alongside me in this workshop without any hesitation, inhibitions, or the formality of viewing me merely as an instructor—assuring them that, by doing so, we would likely succeed in fulfilling the objectives of this workshop.
Following a formal discussion, the attendance of all the artisans was recorded—both manually and through biometric and GPS-tagged imagery. Thereafter, over light refreshments, the two officials provided me with certain guidelines; in the presence of Craft Master Shri Lalaram Prajapat, I, in turn, outlined my proposed methodology and work plan to them.
Amidst all these activities, the scheduled working hours for the first day of the Jaipur Blue Pottery training camp drew to a close; the clock had struck 2:00 PM. Meanwhile, a training camp was also underway at another nearby Blue Pottery workshop, and both officials—accompanied by me—took the opportunity to observe it as well. There, too, certain technical issues came to light—such as the products cracking or developing fissures while drying—points which I duly noted. Thus, my first day at the Jaipur Blue Pottery training workshop concluded. Craft Master Shri Lalaram Prajapat and I reassured the two officials and escorted them to the studio gate. Subsequently, Craft Master Shri Lalaram Prajapat and his family earnestly urged me to stay right there with them in Kotjewar. Respecting their request, I explained to them that I eat only once a day. I further mentioned that the place where I was currently staying belonged to people from my hometown of Bikaner, and the atmosphere there felt just like Bikaner. Consequently, even though I was away from home, staying there gave me the distinct feeling of being at home. Furthermore, I explained that I do not consume garlic or onions in my food; this, too, was resolved, as my friends from Bikaner—the Upadhyay family—ran an eatery behind the Rama Hotel where they served home-style meals, prepared without garlic or onions. Therefore, I told them, I did not wish to become a burden to them. I clarified that, for me, imparting training at this camp was the core objective of this project; my accommodation and meals were not part of the arrangement. Having thus clarified all these points, I requested that they drop me off at "Kot Mod" so that I could proceed to my destination, promising to return again the following day. Accordingly, I was dropped off at Kot Mod by a fellow artisan riding a motorcycle. Upon reaching Kot Mod, while waiting for my bus—as I had done on the first day—I stood in the shade beneath a small tea stall situated at the roadside. Striking up a conversation with the young man running the stall, I was surprised to discover that he, too—the young man sitting there running a tea stall—was a registered artisan of Jaipur Blue Pottery! However, due to financial hardship and a lack of adequate income, he had—out of sheer necessity and for the sake of his family—given up Blue Pottery to set up a roadside tea stall instead. That artisan explained to me, "Sir, finding a ride from here to Mahalan or Bagru is going to be extremely difficult for you. You will have to stand on the other side of the road and flag down a two-wheeler or a four-wheeler by hand." I replied to the young artisan, "During the entire time I studied in Jaipur—from 1994 to 2008—I never once asked anyone for a lift. I covered distances of ten kilometers or more on foot; I never resorted to this kind of 'hustling' for a ride." He responded, "Sir, out here, there really is no other option. You’ll just end up exhausted; public transport is scarce, and the few vehicles that do pass by rarely stop here—that’s another major problem."
Taking the young man’s words as a reflection of his own lived experience, I—for the very first time in my life in the city of Jaipur—asked for a lift. And fate was on my side. Spotting a figure that looked distinctly like a teacher—standing in the scorching sun with a bag in hand and an ID card hanging around his neck—a motorcyclist slowed down, pulled up right in front of me, and stopped his bike. "Where are you headed?" he asked. I replied, "If you could drop me off at Mahalan, I would be very grateful." He said, "Hop on," and I did just that. With a wave of my hand toward the young artisan, I rode off with the motorcyclist. The artisan watched me go with a faint, serene smile—for he was witnessing my very first successful attempt at navigating a challenge that would, in all likelihood, repeat itself throughout the next twenty-four days of my journey. And I, in turn, was offering my silent gratitude to God for the assistance I had received in overcoming this particular obstacle that had arisen on the path of my duty.
And so, thanks to the kindness of that motorcyclist, I was successfully dropped off at Mahalan, having made my way there from Kot Mod. After commending him, I advised him—acting as a well-wisher—to wear a helmet. I then walked half a kilometer to the Mahalan bus stand—which people have established near one end of the culvert—arriving there around 3:30 PM. From there, I boarded a shared-route jeep and traveled to Sodala, Jaipur; from Sodala, I took the Route 11 bus to the Sindhi Camp bus stand. From there, I walked another half-kilometer to reach Rama Hotel, by which time the clock showed 5:30 PM.
Upon reaching Rama Hotel, I first took some rest, then changed my clothes and enjoyed a cup of tea prepared by a gentleman from Bikaner. Next, I completed a sketching exercise for my daily journal, titled "Myself." I then drafted a report on the first day of the training camp—specifically regarding Jaipur Blue Pottery—and posted it on social media. Following that, I informed my old friends and colleagues from the *Jaipur City Bhaskar* newspaper about the Jaipur Blue Pottery training camp and my role in it. By then, it was 8:00 PM; so, I washed my hands and headed to the Bheru Nath Dining Hall at Rajhans to have dinner. I purchased a token and entered the dining hall. Shortly thereafter, a *thali* (platter) arrived at my table containing two vegetable dishes and *Kadhi*, accompanied by *rotis*—baked over a wood fire—and green chutney. The food was prepared without garlic or onions; onions were available there only as a salad accompaniment—something I had opted out of right from the very first day, specifically when purchasing my meal token. After eating four *chapatis*, I concluded my meal with rice and *papad*, then returned to Rama Hotel to get some sleep. This was because I needed to wake up again at 5:00 AM the next morning to begin my journey to Kotjewar. I called home to let them know I was going to sleep, then switched my phone to offline mode and placed it in the locker. I then realized that my friend Ravi Suthar wasn't around today, as he had already left for Bikaner. Consequently, I became even more vigilant about ensuring I woke up exactly at 5:00 AM the next morning—and before I knew it, I drifted off to sleep. Not only had the first day of my journey to Kotjevar village concluded, but the first leg of the trip—spent in the city of Jaipur—was also complete by the time the training camp commenced and the day drew to a close.
Yogendra Kumar Purohit
Master of Fine Art
Bikaner,India
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In Hindi
No comments:
Post a Comment