Driving through Shivaji Maharaj's kingdom, especially to see his janambhoomi, can be fun, considering that Maharashtra rolls out the red carpet to the tourist in winter. The only problem, you realise belatedly, as the car protests its way to thr Shivneri fort, is that the road from Malshejghat seems to have been preserved in the exact condition as the revered Chhatrapati must have left it. Historical verisimilitude maybe all right, but it can spell hell for the tyres. Yes, the thought cannot help but assail one's mind. Just what did the Saffron Combine, which did not let a single day go without chanting Shivaji's name, do to put Shivneri on the tourist map? There is no organised parking lot, the tap at the foot of the fort is dry -- after an arduous descent, this is the tap that matters -- and the fort itself is about to go to seed. The only concession to tourists is the mandatory board outside that describes the significance of the place. For the rest, you are left to your own devices. The city founded by the Maratha king's arch-foe, Aurangzeb, meanwhile flourishes. A bustling metro, Aurangabad is a must-see for the heritage tourist, rimmed as it is by Ajanta and Ellora, Paithan, home to the Paithani saris, the impregnable Daulatabad, and, of course, the humbling mazhar of the Shahenshah who gave the city his name. The Mughal emperor's grave, shorn of pomp as per his last wish, abuts a mosque, with a blind youth parroting details of Aurangzeb's demise. The thought is inescapable: surely such a man, who met his Maker with humility, cannot be the bigot that history books have taught us he was...? The remainder of the holiday does not enthuse one about the state's chances of grabbing the tourist pie. Arguably, Maharashtra is one of the front-runners, endowed as it is with tons of scenic beauty and a populace that takes to the road like fish to water. Yet, hopes are alive not because but despite government initiative. Maharashtra Tourism Development Corporation, entrusted with the task of boosting numbers, is simply not up to the task, it would seem. And no better proof can there be than the treatment of the Lonar crater, some 100-odd km from Aurangabad. The village's claim to fame is that a meteor slammed into it centuries ago, and the crater that marks the site is the largest in the world. Some years ago MTDC had announced grand plans to hardsell the site, before losing its way amid red tape and, presumably, protests from the ever-alert green lobby. Today, thus, the Aurangabad unit of the MTDC does not even have stock of brochures on Lonar, nor does it accept bookings for the PWD/MTDC bungalow there, packing you off with the line that bookings are does at Lonar itself. It is advisable to always make bookings while travelling with family, but since this was MTDC's word, one drove into Lonar only to have one's nightmare unfold. The caretaker turns you down, saying that without booking he cannot take in anyone, before, one guesses, the sight of the child in the car turned him sympathetic. Since he charges Rs 80 for the night's stay, you don't expect the Taj Mahal, nor do you expect room service. Food is courtesy Sharmaji's in the village, which you realise is a local landmark... Lonar, of course, is worth every iota of trouble. At night, especially, the site comes alive with sounds unheard of by urban ears, and with a near-full moon beaming down, the cottage on the rim of the crater keeps its Cinderella charms well past the midnight hour... As local folklore goes, this one is unbeatable. The not-in-use mosque inside Daulatabad fort, is today a temple. No one really seems to know when it happened, and the how has many variations. What I got was this one: suddenly an idol was found inside the mosque, and the locals started treating the site as a temple. Today, there is a priest, bell, regular puja, and, of course, tourists to gawk at the strange site of a temple inside a mosque. Any chances of trouble here, a la Babri and other masjids? No, for the divine hand that produced the idol here seems to have worked it out before wreaking the miracle. The deity is not Krishna, Siva or any other usual god, but of Bharatmata! En route to Chikaldhara, the only hill station in hot and grimy Vidarbha, as we pass by Parathwada, an obscure board on the side of the road catches the eye: 'America's roads are good not because America is rich; America is rich is because its roads are good.' As my car finished the painful 2,000-km journey -- brushed aside by speeding trucks and jeeps, rattled by state highways that could belong to the Sea of Tranquillity -- this is a message that refuses to fade out. Executive Editor Saisuresh Sivaswamy is still to recover from his experiences.
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