Travel guide: Palaces, the past and pride in Patiala
Discover a glittering marriage of history and hospitality in this quiet corner of Punjab
How I ended up in Patiala was a complete twist of fate. Bound for the Himalayas with a suitcase packed full of thermals, my flight was cancelled due to poor weather and soon I was driving through rolling fields of rice wherever I looked, expanding to the very end of where my naked eye could reach. They say spontaneous plans are perhaps the best kind, and my time spent in this quaint crown jewel of Punjab’s lavish legacy reaffirms my faith in the existence of destiny.
Like many cities on the Indian map, Patiala is not exactly top of the bucket list lot of holiday destinations – the lines in Schengen visa offices are long and treacherous, but the charms of European civilisation and Balearic island parties never wear off. Only if one comes searching for the stories told within the honeycomb lanes of this city does one uncover – beyond these old, faded buildings, small, bumpy roads and tight-knit bazaars – a tale of a kingdom, gone, but never forgotten.
The history
The roots of Patiala can be traced back to one Maharaja Baba Ala Singh, a visionary who came to this land and felt compelled to establish a civilisation. As such, a fort, the Qila Mubarak, was built in 1763, back then the centre of any settlement’s universe, and Patiala sprung to life. The name comes from two places – patti, meaning a 360-degree strip, referring to the all-encompassing physical and social presence of the fort; and ala, meaning home or living space, and also from the name of Maharaja Baba Ala Singh.
Nestled inside one of the four enclaves of this Qila Mubarak is Ran Baas, The Palace, a Park Hotels and Relais & Châteaux property, a stunning restoration of the space where the wives of Maharja Bhupinder Singh once resided. That is where the name comes
from – rani, meaning queen; and baas, meaning living quarters. A boutique stay with 35 suites, the hotel lies at the centre of this entire historical escapade I’m going to chart for you, living it, breathing it, and immortalising it within its ethos. Here, I came to experience some of the most sincere, thoughtful hospitality I have ever encountered. A conscious effort is made to give the guests the full Punjabi experience: we are welcomed with pomp and show, complete with a parade, a dhol, humbling folded hands and the echoes of sat shri akal.
While much has changed in life around the monument from 300 years ago, a lot of it is still frozen in time, like a postcard. Anthony, a manager at the Ran Baas, The Palace, tells me that some of the vendors who have been trading in the surrounding bazaar since the time of Maharaja Bhupinder Singh still pay rents of 50 to 100 rupees for their shops – equivalent to Dhs2 to Dhs4 in today’s world.
Maharaja Bhupinder Singh took this modest, albeit expansive, dwelling from the time of his ancestors and filled it with treasures that far exceed the wealth of many royal families around the world. He was an inimitable personality, some of the oldest locals tell me, with a net worth competing only with the Nizams of Hyderabad and an ego fit for a king, further flourished by his posse of more than 20 Rolls Royce models, his 365 wives, his collection of medals, and his pushing penchant for all the finer things in life.
Today, the people of Patiala lead humble lives, driven by the salt of the earth and a pride in the past of their city that no one can take away from them. These regales of grandeur, opulence and luxury are locked away within the crumbling walls of the fort, and in modern India, the city is a part of the pulsating democracy like everywhere else in the country. But the mark of monarchy has yet to fade. For 15 years, the seat of this governance was held by Captain Amarinder Singh, an armyman and the reigning descendant of the dynasty of Patiala.
The culture
We pull into the city amidst sweeping farms of rice and towering, rust red brick kilns, seemingly some of the most lucrative sources of livelihood here – the state of Punjab contributes to about 9 to 12 per cent of India’s overall rice production, one of the highest in the country. Generational farming is a way of life, but so is the trade of their culture. Our tour around the central market of the city brings us to the doorstep of two of the most popular cultural exports of Patiala – the jutti and the phulkari work.
Sweety Singh has been running his namesake jutti store since 1947. A portly Sikh man with a permanent, powerhouse smile and a tender demeanour, he tells me his family came to Patiala from Pakistan during the Partition and bought this shop space to build their lives here. Sweety Jutti Store has been the same ever since – from the low roof to the signboard outside and the honest dedication to the craft. I’m overwhelmed by their hospitality, which I will relive over and over in the next few days, as he gently slides shoe after shoe on my feet with his own hands. In Patiala, daughters are taken very seriously, and I leave the store with a bag full of shoes and a tender familial connection.
Over at Jasprit Singh’s shop of phulkari fabrics, I am told this is also a family business, established in the 1950s and to this day, the store creates paid work for the women of Jasprit’s village. He rolls out dupatta after dupatta, in colours bright, bold and beautiful, adorned with mirrors, embellishments and sequins.
Phulkari is a traditional style of thread embroidery practised only in certain regions of Punjab. Our guide from the hotel, Rajveer, is a native of Bhatinda and tells me these fabrics are also an important symbol at weddings, often draped by the mothers and sisters of the bride and groom. Besides this, the city is also popular for the production of high-quality gud, or jaggery, and has a dedicated area of the bazaar called gud mandi to produce this ingredient.
At Ran Baas, The Palace, the team immerse us into the local arts and music, and we spend our evenings on the terrace, which is the highest point of Patiala. We sip freshly brewed chai, nibble on Punjabi high tea, watch the sunset colour the sky pink, purple and blue as Mukund, part of the hotel F&B team and a welcome face throughout our stay, tells us more about the qila’s history, and are regaled by the musical strains of a pair of live Sufi performers – Mohit and Mohit, practicing their family craft – as well as stories from Deep Mohan Arneja, general manager, who connects with his guests as if they are family. On a different day, at brunch, a live Sitar performs soothing tunes as we dine on comfort specialities; and paan, a traditional Indian mouth freshener, is arranged on the slightest mention by our wonderful stay coordinator, Sonu.
In our room, the furnishings are a beautiful blend of traditional and contemporary, with massive arches, high ceilings, detailed engravings, ornate chandeliers, hand-painted motifs, geometric prints and lacey curtains that add romance to the entire affair. A rich blue is draped everywhere, from the tiles to the bedding and beyond. This luxury matches all the other parts of the hotel, from the imposing, white façade, a stunning sight at nighttime, to the architecture, a fusion of Punjabi and Rajasthani design, to the grassy courtyards and the spa space, a converted part of the kitchen called the lassikhana.
The must-visit sites
The first stop on our tour of the city is the Moti Bagh Palace, a sprawling property over 100 acres of land, much of which now lays in disrepair. Enclosed within the walls of this palace is the Sheesh Mahal or Palace of Mirrors, built by Maharaja Bhupinder Singh for pleasure, joy and relaxation. The building is said to house unimaginable frescoes and mirrors, and even the world’s largest collection of medals, a milestone achievement for the Maharaja. Outside, marble statues and fighting cannons dot the gardens, and across a now dried-up man-made lake, a replica of the Lakshman Jhula of Rishikesh bridges the gap. Also in that compound is the Banaras Ghar, a banquet hall where the Maharaja hosted more than 100 covers; and the smaller Moti Bagh Palace, currently the residence of Captain Amarinder Singh.
From there, we move on to the Gurudwara Shri Dukhniwaran Sahib. According to local tradition, supported by an old handwritten document preserved in the holy site, a dweller of the village of Lehal, where the gurudwara now stands, waited upon the ninth guru of the Sikhs, Guru Tegh Bahadur. He pleaded with him to rid his village of a serious and mysterious sickness, which had been their bane for a long time. The Guru did so, and the site where he sat down became the site of this shrine, hence the name dukh-nivaran, literally meaning eradicator of suffering. On this day, the shrine is filled with the faithful, showing up for their share of the healing properties the water is said to have. As soon as we step foot on the marble, a heavy downpour begins, and we’re drenched from head to toe in almost a symbolic moment.
The food
At Ran Baas, The Palace, we are served some incredibly flavourful vegetarian Punjabi fare, from millet kichdi drenched in ghee to pakoda kadi, butter-laden naans, grilled paneer, dahi kababs, baingan ka bharta and home-style daal, all of which we consume at the Patiala Bar, a moody lounge splashed in shades of purple and blue. One mention of a preference for halal meat, and the chef sources halal chicken for us, a rarity in Punjab, to whip up a home-style chicken curry for our last dinner – such is the attention to detail. We traverse the lanes of the local bazaars and discover some of the specialities, including pure, homemade lassi, perfectly refreshing for hot summer days, and a whole world of confectioneries we never knew about at Jaggi’s Sweets – another local, family-run business.
As we tuck into our last meal in Patiala, I am reminded of what I’m taking away from this place – the people, in every step of the way.
IndiGo flies direct from Dubai International Airport (DXB) to Chandigarh International Airport (IXC) with one-way fares from Dhs750. Room rates at Ran Baas, The Palace start from Dhs1,025. Book via relaischateaux.com
Images: Getty/Supplied
