In Rajshahi on the 5th, I wanted to visit the little town of Puthia, about 15 miles to the east, but with the political disturbances continuing, it took some trouble to find a bus. None were leaving from the bus station, but I was advised to take a rickshaw to a traffic circle, and there I did find a bus that would pass through Kushtia. It was battered and had a big crack in its windshield, so perhaps the owners figured it would be no great loss if it were bombed.
I arrived in Puthia, full of dilapidated palaces and temples, a little after 11 and spent the day there. From the spot on the highway where the bus dropped me off I walked perhaps a third of a mile south on a narrow road filled with carts and rickshaws until I reached the tall Shiva temple, built in 1823, with a pond and a smaller temple beside it. Some of the stone carvings on it were damaged by the Pakistanis in the 1971 war. An older man came up to me and we started talking. He offered to serve as my guide. I didn't really think I needed a guide, but he was a nice guy, so I agreed. We walked to the nearby Puthia Palace, with a rubbish covered lawn in front. The palace, built by a woman in 1895 in honor of her mother-in-law, is locked up and in very bad shape. It must once have been grand, with columns and colored windows. It now is said to be filled with bats.
In a courtyard to the back of the palace is a wonderful temple, the Govinda Temple, built between 1823 and 1895. (My guide told me about 25% of the inhabitants of Puthia are Hindu.) The temple is a large square building, two or three stories high, covered with red terracotta tiles filled with intricate carvings, mostly of Krishna and Radha. A priest was sitting on the ledge in front and there were ruins behind the temple. I enjoyed looking over all the detail. Beyond is a large pond, another, smaller palace, now government offices, and another, smaller temple, in the Bengali hut style, also covered with terracotta tiles with figures. A little further stood the ruins of an earlier palace among vegetation and betel nut trees and yet another small temple. We continued walking, passing another large pond and reaching three more temples, two covered with terracotta panels. They, too, were filled with figures and I enjoyed examining the detail.
By then my guide was hinting that it was past his lunchtime, so I gave him 200 taka, for which he seemed inordinately thankful, and continued on my own. I walked back to the Shiva Temple and noticed nearby, in some small lanes, a Hindu wedding party, with the bride and groom getting ready to leave in a van. Music was playing and the people were friendly. I walked again to the Puthia Palace, with a small gaggle of aggressive geese pursuing me on the lawn, and the Govinda Temple. A group of 14 Japanese tourists showed up. I walked again to the ruins and temples behind the palace and was followed by two shy, but ultimately very friendly, girls. They posed for photos.
I walked back to the highway, getting there about 4:30. Finding a bus was difficult, but a friendly guy in an auto rickshaw offered to take me halfway back to Rajshahi. I shared it with two friendly Hindu women and three very perplexed little kids. They let me take some photos of them. I was able to get a second auto rickshaw back to the train station in Rajshahi, getting there about 6. The auto rickshaw trips back were very pleasant, with friendly fellow passengers and lovely scenery, very green, with rice, wheat, mango trees and ponds to be seen under a setting sun.
The next morning I wanted to go to the site of the former Bengal capital of Gaur, with ruins dating to the 15th and 16th centuries. I had visited Gaur in April 2013, but could only visit those ruins on the Indian side of the border. The ruins on the Bangladeshi side are about 50 miles northwest of Rajshahi, but getting there wasn't easy. About 8:30 on a cold, overcast morning I left in what Bangladeshis call a CNG (an auto rickshaw powered by compressed natural gas). Traveling in that open vehicle was very cold that morning. The men in it with me wore thick coats and scarfs. The road passed rice paddies, rice stacks, and in places cow manure wrapped onto sticks, like some sort of long, awful kebab, to dry in the sun. This CNG took me only as far as the town of Chapai Nawabganj, 30 miles from Rajshahi. From there I had to hire another CNG to take me to Gaur. About 10 a weak sun broke through. Passing lots of mango trees on the way, we came across a long line of parked trucks as we neared the border.
About 11 I finally arrived at Sona Masjid, a black basalt mosque built between 1493 and 1526, with some interesting designs in relief on the stone. It was deserted. From there I walked to the ruins of a palace, another mosque, and a mausoleum, and then along the dusty main road towards the Indian border. The road, in bad shape, was lined with what seemed to be gravel factories, so it was not a pleasant stroll. Fortunately, a guy on a motorcycle gave me a lift to the ruins of the 15th century Darasbari Mosque, set in a quiet grassy area filled with mango trees. He then took me to the nearby ruins of a madrassa and finally almost to the border, from where I could walk to the 1490 Khania Dighi Mosque. A group of men and boys were just leaving prayers at another mosque, and several of the boys, some in robes and skullcaps, led me through village streets and a mango grove to the Khania Dighi Mosque, near a big tank and set among mango trees. This single domed mosque is in excellent condition and is covered with terracotta floral designs. The big dome is made of tiny bricks. A couple of old men were at the mosque and the boys who had led me to it followed me all around, inside and out as I looked around. They were very friendly and polite, happy to pose for photos.
The boys walked me back to their village near the main road, where I hired a CNG to take me back to Chapai Nawabganj. It was mid-afternoon, but the sun was mostly hidden and the ride was cold. I got back to Rajshahi about 5 and, having had no lunch, headed to that friendly restaurant for an early dinner of chicken biryani. I hadn't seen much of Rajshahi yet, so I walked to the banks of the river (the Ganges, called the Padma in Bangladesh) just before nightfall. Lots of people were out and about. I could see fields across the wide river. I've read the border with India is not the river, but a little more than a mile beyond the river. Upriver loomed a huge sandbank.
The next day was warmer, and it was sunny when I took a CNG to near the riverside. I walked along the Padma on the riverbank, much less crowded than the evening before. There wasn't much to see that I hadn't seen the evening before, other than the Baro Kuthi, a former indigo warehouse. Indigo production in this area was very profitable in the 19th century, though only the landlords prospered while the workers suffered, leading to the Indigo Revolt in 1859-61. From the river I walked through a very congested, but interesting street market, to Rajshahi Government College, dating from 1873 when several maharajas donated money for its establishment. It contains several beautiful colonial buildings and lovely gardens filled with flowers, mostly dahlias, I think. Lots of students were around and I noticed many were checking scores posted on an outdoor bulletin board. Most of the women were veiled. I wandered around for a while and then headed to the museum, which was closed. On the way a beautiful young woman said hello, quite a surprising thing, but she said it with a perfect American accent and told me she was from the Bronx and visiting relatives.
I left Rajshahi on a 12:30 bus heading to Bogra that passed through Puthia and dropped me off in Natore, 25 miles east of Rajshahi. A French guy I met at the hotel and I headed to Natore Rajbari, a mid-18th century mansion, or actually several mansions, in a park-like setting. We spent the afternoon there, a pleasant place with a few Bangladeshi tourists also on the grounds. Many of the buildings are in ruins, and even those that are not are nonetheless in dilapidated condition. The architecture is very European, as is the statuary, including a surprising number of bare naked ladies. There are several ponds and Hindu temples, and lots of trees and greenery. People were very friendly. It seems that during colonial times in East Bengal, now Bangladesh, a large proportion of the landlords were Hindu, with the Muslims largely poor, though there were also wealthy Muslim landlords and poor Hindus. I've read that Hindus comprised something like 28% of East Bengal at the 1941 census, before partition, but that at the time of the 1971 war they were perhaps half that, and less than 10% now.
I arrived in Puthia, full of dilapidated palaces and temples, a little after 11 and spent the day there. From the spot on the highway where the bus dropped me off I walked perhaps a third of a mile south on a narrow road filled with carts and rickshaws until I reached the tall Shiva temple, built in 1823, with a pond and a smaller temple beside it. Some of the stone carvings on it were damaged by the Pakistanis in the 1971 war. An older man came up to me and we started talking. He offered to serve as my guide. I didn't really think I needed a guide, but he was a nice guy, so I agreed. We walked to the nearby Puthia Palace, with a rubbish covered lawn in front. The palace, built by a woman in 1895 in honor of her mother-in-law, is locked up and in very bad shape. It must once have been grand, with columns and colored windows. It now is said to be filled with bats.
In a courtyard to the back of the palace is a wonderful temple, the Govinda Temple, built between 1823 and 1895. (My guide told me about 25% of the inhabitants of Puthia are Hindu.) The temple is a large square building, two or three stories high, covered with red terracotta tiles filled with intricate carvings, mostly of Krishna and Radha. A priest was sitting on the ledge in front and there were ruins behind the temple. I enjoyed looking over all the detail. Beyond is a large pond, another, smaller palace, now government offices, and another, smaller temple, in the Bengali hut style, also covered with terracotta tiles with figures. A little further stood the ruins of an earlier palace among vegetation and betel nut trees and yet another small temple. We continued walking, passing another large pond and reaching three more temples, two covered with terracotta panels. They, too, were filled with figures and I enjoyed examining the detail.
By then my guide was hinting that it was past his lunchtime, so I gave him 200 taka, for which he seemed inordinately thankful, and continued on my own. I walked back to the Shiva Temple and noticed nearby, in some small lanes, a Hindu wedding party, with the bride and groom getting ready to leave in a van. Music was playing and the people were friendly. I walked again to the Puthia Palace, with a small gaggle of aggressive geese pursuing me on the lawn, and the Govinda Temple. A group of 14 Japanese tourists showed up. I walked again to the ruins and temples behind the palace and was followed by two shy, but ultimately very friendly, girls. They posed for photos.
I walked back to the highway, getting there about 4:30. Finding a bus was difficult, but a friendly guy in an auto rickshaw offered to take me halfway back to Rajshahi. I shared it with two friendly Hindu women and three very perplexed little kids. They let me take some photos of them. I was able to get a second auto rickshaw back to the train station in Rajshahi, getting there about 6. The auto rickshaw trips back were very pleasant, with friendly fellow passengers and lovely scenery, very green, with rice, wheat, mango trees and ponds to be seen under a setting sun.
The next morning I wanted to go to the site of the former Bengal capital of Gaur, with ruins dating to the 15th and 16th centuries. I had visited Gaur in April 2013, but could only visit those ruins on the Indian side of the border. The ruins on the Bangladeshi side are about 50 miles northwest of Rajshahi, but getting there wasn't easy. About 8:30 on a cold, overcast morning I left in what Bangladeshis call a CNG (an auto rickshaw powered by compressed natural gas). Traveling in that open vehicle was very cold that morning. The men in it with me wore thick coats and scarfs. The road passed rice paddies, rice stacks, and in places cow manure wrapped onto sticks, like some sort of long, awful kebab, to dry in the sun. This CNG took me only as far as the town of Chapai Nawabganj, 30 miles from Rajshahi. From there I had to hire another CNG to take me to Gaur. About 10 a weak sun broke through. Passing lots of mango trees on the way, we came across a long line of parked trucks as we neared the border.
About 11 I finally arrived at Sona Masjid, a black basalt mosque built between 1493 and 1526, with some interesting designs in relief on the stone. It was deserted. From there I walked to the ruins of a palace, another mosque, and a mausoleum, and then along the dusty main road towards the Indian border. The road, in bad shape, was lined with what seemed to be gravel factories, so it was not a pleasant stroll. Fortunately, a guy on a motorcycle gave me a lift to the ruins of the 15th century Darasbari Mosque, set in a quiet grassy area filled with mango trees. He then took me to the nearby ruins of a madrassa and finally almost to the border, from where I could walk to the 1490 Khania Dighi Mosque. A group of men and boys were just leaving prayers at another mosque, and several of the boys, some in robes and skullcaps, led me through village streets and a mango grove to the Khania Dighi Mosque, near a big tank and set among mango trees. This single domed mosque is in excellent condition and is covered with terracotta floral designs. The big dome is made of tiny bricks. A couple of old men were at the mosque and the boys who had led me to it followed me all around, inside and out as I looked around. They were very friendly and polite, happy to pose for photos.
The boys walked me back to their village near the main road, where I hired a CNG to take me back to Chapai Nawabganj. It was mid-afternoon, but the sun was mostly hidden and the ride was cold. I got back to Rajshahi about 5 and, having had no lunch, headed to that friendly restaurant for an early dinner of chicken biryani. I hadn't seen much of Rajshahi yet, so I walked to the banks of the river (the Ganges, called the Padma in Bangladesh) just before nightfall. Lots of people were out and about. I could see fields across the wide river. I've read the border with India is not the river, but a little more than a mile beyond the river. Upriver loomed a huge sandbank.
The next day was warmer, and it was sunny when I took a CNG to near the riverside. I walked along the Padma on the riverbank, much less crowded than the evening before. There wasn't much to see that I hadn't seen the evening before, other than the Baro Kuthi, a former indigo warehouse. Indigo production in this area was very profitable in the 19th century, though only the landlords prospered while the workers suffered, leading to the Indigo Revolt in 1859-61. From the river I walked through a very congested, but interesting street market, to Rajshahi Government College, dating from 1873 when several maharajas donated money for its establishment. It contains several beautiful colonial buildings and lovely gardens filled with flowers, mostly dahlias, I think. Lots of students were around and I noticed many were checking scores posted on an outdoor bulletin board. Most of the women were veiled. I wandered around for a while and then headed to the museum, which was closed. On the way a beautiful young woman said hello, quite a surprising thing, but she said it with a perfect American accent and told me she was from the Bronx and visiting relatives.
I left Rajshahi on a 12:30 bus heading to Bogra that passed through Puthia and dropped me off in Natore, 25 miles east of Rajshahi. A French guy I met at the hotel and I headed to Natore Rajbari, a mid-18th century mansion, or actually several mansions, in a park-like setting. We spent the afternoon there, a pleasant place with a few Bangladeshi tourists also on the grounds. Many of the buildings are in ruins, and even those that are not are nonetheless in dilapidated condition. The architecture is very European, as is the statuary, including a surprising number of bare naked ladies. There are several ponds and Hindu temples, and lots of trees and greenery. People were very friendly. It seems that during colonial times in East Bengal, now Bangladesh, a large proportion of the landlords were Hindu, with the Muslims largely poor, though there were also wealthy Muslim landlords and poor Hindus. I've read that Hindus comprised something like 28% of East Bengal at the 1941 census, before partition, but that at the time of the 1971 war they were perhaps half that, and less than 10% now.
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