Serene silence

The twin sacred spots for the Bishnois, Mukam and Samarthal, are ideal places to meditate and purely vegetate.

The terrain is bleak. This is the vast shrubland that signals the beginning of the Great Indian Thar Desert. There are no discernible features for miles in the darkness, but far away a light shines at a height.

This is truly the middle of nowhere. Using the light for reference I reached Samarthal, the massive sand dune that is revered by the Bishnoi community.

The road is excellent black-top but my driver warns: "I have been told blackbuck and chinkara cross the roads frequently here. I must drive slowly."

On cue, a couple of young bucks dart in front of the headlamps. We come to a stop at the foot of the dune and I frighten a few more bucks when I step out into the biting cold.

Curiously, the massive dune is ringed by a barbed fence. Vaulting it, I scramble up the sandy slope to a vantage point atop the mound. A sheer stillness greets me and I can feel the force that shapes the terrain here, whipping across the landscape with a loud "whoooooosh".

This is the very spot where Guru Jambheshwar, the 15th-century founder of the Bishnoi sect, is said to have meditated. It is easy to see why Jambhoji chose this location. When the sun starts to light the pre-dawn horizon, flocks of peacock rustle through the sparse and dry undergrowth and the eerie silence is split by intermittent barks from nilgai bulls.

As the sun rises, the thorny brush comes alive with the cackle from flocks of winged inhabitants. After eight days of meditating here Jambhoji is said to have pronounced his 29 "commandments" which chiefly centre around oneness with nature, and give the Bishnois (literally, 29ers) their name.

Today Samarthal and the nearby village of Mukam, which houses the samadhi of Jambhoji, are revered by the Bishnois. The temple atop Samarthal is a rather uninspiring structure, but that it in itself expresses the essence of Bishnoi life "" simplicity.

The shrine is a simple oil lamp and a portrait of the saint, while a mandap in the courtyard is the space for the meagre prescribed rituals. Rows of desert pigeons jostle for space on the perimeter walls to catch the sun's warmth while peacocks do their rounds looking for grain offerings.

The caretakers reside nearby in a small residential complex, which also houses a small dairy. In a modest display of hospitality, I am offered a glass of fresh warm milk to beat the morning chill.

The fields surrounding the sand dune abound with herds of nilgai, chinkara and blackbuck. The caretakers emphasise that the animals are more than welcome. It is no wonder Salman Khan ran into rough weather when he decided to sample a few for dinner.

The Bishnoi have a long history of activism when it comes to environmental issues. They zealously guard their trees and wildlife, even at the cost of their lives, as was demonstrated in the Khejarli massacre in 1730 when 363 are said to have met their end hugging their beloved Khejri trees, and in 1996 Nihal Chand Bishnoi died of bullet wounds sustained while chasing poachers away.

The twin locations of Samarthal and Mukam come alive twice a year when the Jambheshwar fair is held on Phalgun Budi Amavasya and Ashvin Budi Amavasya. Bishnois from around the world descend here to take some sand from the tank called Talai at Mukam and deposit it at the foot of the dune at Samarthal.

As with any fair in Rajasthan, the people are a riot of colour. For the inveterate traveller, Samarthal and Mukam are simply the best places to experience the peace of a locale untouched by the spectre of mass tourism.