Murshidabad By Horse Cart

The Ganges Voyager II arrived at Murshidabad in the evening after our visit to Matiari. Our mooring was in front of a white building that was illuminated with bright light. Whatever the material that covered the building it was a lovely picture to look at under the lights.

Our dance troupe gone, dinner consumed, we slept through the night and awoke to begin our morning in Mushidabad with a horse cart ride through the city. It was a bit of a climb to get on the cart which tended to tip a bit with the weight of each new passenger. There was an optional ride in a Toto for those who didn’t feel they could make the high step up onto the cart.

Bob and I sat on the back of a cart on top of a “cushion” that was more or less just an old bag from some foodstuffs that had been transported to market. Not much cushion especially when the cart his a few bumps and ruts in the road. It was a fun ride and I was amazed that the small horse could pull the weight of four of us plus the driver.

We passed shops and buildings and waved at kids and adults alike who smiled at us and greeted us. They must get a kick out of the way we react to what is just a normal part of everyday life for them. We have yet to experience anything other than a warm feeling of friendliness from those we’ve met and seen along the way.

Our first stop was at the Katra Mosque, built by the first Nawab (governor) of Mushidabad around 1724. It also contains the grave of Murshid Kuli Khan from whom the city gets its name. The courtyard was surrounded by small cubicle rooms which Sachi said were actually classrooms at one time.

Inside, the domed roof was partially destroyed. It must have been something in its day. There was a watchtower that rose above it with obvious observation windows to detect approaching enemies.

We walked around a bit and listened to Sachi’s historical account surrounding this mosque. After a week of so much historical information and explanations of all the Hindu gods and mythology, I was beginning to remember why history was not my favorite subject in school. Too many details, strange names and things that were difficult to relate to and to assimilate all at once.

The morning was warming up quickly as we climbed aboard the horse carts once again. A few opted out of the second ride and chose the Toto. We managed a front seat for our second horse cart ride and chuckled at the horse who seemed to want to look over his shoulder to see where the little whip of encouragement was going to tickle his ribs next. It was never a hard lash but rather a “pay attention” reminder.

Our horse carts pulled up at the gate to the Hazarduari Palace that was near where our boat was moored. The palace was a big yellow impressive building with columns in front where the steps led up to the entrance. It definitely had Scottish influence in the architecture.

The crew members that accompanied us collected our large bags which were not allowed in the palace museum. We were permitted to take our phones in but no cameras and the phones needed to be shut off or on airplane mode. Was AC too much to hope for once we were inside?

Yes. There were lots of fans however.

It was said that there were a thousand doors throughout the palace, some real and others false, just for decoration. Sachi laughed and said someone counted only 999 but they weren’t sure that was correct.

This was quite a museum of artifacts. There was furniture that must have been spectacular before the velvet faded from age. The porcelain and crystal vases had not lost their beauty and I was fascinated not only with the hand painting on them but also the ones that had delicate porcelain flowers adorning them.  Lots of paintings and one in particular was a painting from the current king.

Again there was much more history than I could take in and understand. The Brits among us though were much more familiar with the names and the connections to India since it was a part of their history as well.

Outside the palace museum, we received our bags and a welcomed cold bottle of water. Again there was an option to take a Toto back to the boat or a five-ten minute walk through a little part of town. We opted to walk though there really wasn’t much of interest to see. Most of the little shops along the way were closed.

As we enjoyed lunch, the river boat moved a little ways from Mushidabad to a little village called Baranagar. The captain was able to pull up to the shore where there were steps leading up to the pathway to the village. Our three groups of passengers left at staggered intervals to avoid overwhelming any one spot in the tiny village.  As we waited for our group to assemble onshore, we were surprised to find so many adults and children interacting with us and speaking English. We would soon learn how their wonderful grasp of the English language came to be.