caucasus
caucasus It is an unsettling
feeling I have — a feeling of embarking on a new mental journey, a feeling
of re-understanding history. But I cannot find the right vehicle that will
take me where I want to go. Where do the roots of this feeling lie? In Baku. See, Baku was supposed to
be just another historical city I would visit. A place to put down my
backpack for a few days, discover ways to reach points of interest, find
places to eat, visit a few historical sites and then move on to the next
destination. Even though I did leave Baku after staying there for three days,
Baku refuses to leave my imagination. Azerbaijan does not make it
easy for the tourists to visit her. Besides the exorbitant visa fees, the
bureaucratic hurdles you need to overcome to get a tourist visa include
confirming your hotel stay in Azerbaijan, with particular hotels the
Azerbaijani bureaucracy likes. Facing these challenges, many tourists just
give up the idea of travelling to the only Muslim country of Caucasus. Yet,
how can your trip to Caucasus be complete without visiting Azerbaijan, the
largest country of the region? Our trip of Caucasus had
started out in Turkey. After visiting Armenia we were in Tbilisi; we decided
to apply for the Azerbaijani visas. When you visit that region and you are
travelling overland you have to understand who is not getting along with
whom. Armenia has a long border
with Turkey but the border is sealed — going from Turkey to Armenia, you
have to first go to Georgia that gets along well with the other two
neighbours. Armenian genocide in Ottoman Turkey is fresh in the minds of
Armenians, but Turkey refuses to call Armenian mass killings in the Ottoman
period genocide. Acrimonious relations exist between Azerbaijan and Armenia
as well; once again Georgia (or Iran in south) is the neutral country to go
through in order to travel between the other two. To us visiting Caucasus was
important in many ways: people associating themselves with that geographical
region — calling themselves Caucasians — have defined the concept of
races. Caucasus is important for
northern South Asia because our folklore has many references to Koh-e-Qaf,
the legendary place of ‘beautiful’ women and tall men. Those stories came
to South Asia, along with invaders from the north — story-tellers of Iran
had made Caucasus such a mythological region. After giving our passports
to the Azerbaijan embassy in Tbilisi, we travelled to Kazbegi (also known as
Stepantsminda), a town near the Georgia-Russia border. Kazbegi with its small
population is trying to redefine itself from a small pastoral town to now a
tourist attraction where foreigners come to climb mountains, and visit
glaciers and waterfalls. Kazbegi is laid back, with regular shows of farmers
herding their cows through the town — a gentle smell of cow manure
permeates the air. A visit to the museum in
Kazbegi makes one realise how strongly people in the Old World associate
themselves with the region they live in; even a small country modernly
defined in the nation-state narrative can be teeming with ethnically diverse
people. Kazbegi Museum featured
historical documents, and arts and crafts of the Kazbegi area, as the area
existed fairly independent of its surroundings for hundreds of years. By the time we came back to
Tbilisi, our passports were ready with Azerbaijani visas. Hooray! We already
had the Iranian visas. Now with the Azerbaijani visas in our passports we
could take a circuitous route to Istanbul travelling south in Azerbaijan and
then entering Iran. Next day we left for
Azerbaijan. At the border our passports
were checked to see which countries we had visited earlier and on spotting
the Armenian stamp, the Azerbaijani immigration office said out loud with
disappointment, “Ar-me-nia!!” as in, “Why the hell did you go to
Armenia?” He then showed the Armenian stamps in our passports to his
colleague who just happened to stop by his desk. We did not say a word and
kept forced smiles on our faces. We stood there with patience till we got our
passports back with Azerbaijani entry stamps in them. On reaching Zaqatala,
the van driver stopped in the city centre, pointed to the bus station and
said “Sheki”— that’s where we needed to go to catch a bus to Sheki. Our stay at the historical
Karvansarayi Hotel in Sheki was a time to relax. The highlight of our visit
was enjoying Sheki’s famous halva that very much lived up to its fame.
Sheki halva is a scrumptious dessert made of flour, milk, nuts, eggs, and
sugary syrup, with saffron lines on top. Our travel guidebook said
Azerbaijan cannot be firmly placed either in Europe or Asia. We did not see
it that way. Azerbaijan was very much a Middle Eastern country to us. If you
go by the faces you see on the streets in Azerbaijan, you may think you are
in Jordan or Syria. Every prayer time, the atmosphere is filled with azans.
And people eat roasted seeds like they do in all Middle Eastern countries. Azerbaijani language was
once written in Arabic letters. After Azerbaijan joined the Soviet Union, the
script became Cyrillic. And now, after the collapse of the Union, Azerbaijani
is written in the same letters used in modern Turkish. A couple of days later we
were in Baku. When in Tbilisi we had met a German woman who had been to
Azerbaijan. She thought Azerbaijan was putting all its wealth in its capital
— she was pointing to the phenomenon of uneven development in the country. Travelling from Sheki to
Baku, we found that assertion to be true. Baku not only had better
infrastructure, it appeared more modern than other parts of the country we
had visited. Uneven development in a country sets off internal migration from
lesser developed areas to more privileged places. No wonder Baku is home to
more than 20 per cent of the Azerbaijani population. The continuing influx also
means that Baku is an expensive city to visit. To find a place that would fit
our budget we had to settle for a hotel some distance away from the Old City;
we would take the metro to reach the tourist attractions. It was another such day of
exploration in the Azerbaijani capital. The hot afternoon in Baku was
relenting to a mild evening. Soft lights from lampposts had started covering
the cobblestoned streets and affluent tourists were taking seats in pimped-up
outdoor restaurants. I was looking at the curious shape of the Maiden Tower
when I came across a sign that pointed to the ‘Multani Caravanserai’. Caravanserais — temporary
abodes of ancient trade caravans — there were many in Azerbaijan, but why
Multani? What did it have to do with our Multan? I followed the signs and
after passing through a narrow passageway reached two stone buildings that
had restored exteriors: one was Bukhara Caravanserai, the other one was
Multani Caravanserai. I was told the Multani Caravanserai was built in the
15th century and was the resting place for traders coming from Multan.
Presently, a restaurant by the name of ‘Karvansarayi’ occupies both
buildings that face each other. We were allowed to go down
in the Multani Caravanserai to soak in the history of the place. Multani
Caravanserai’s basement with its vaulted ceilings appeared to be the
original construction. This is where businessmen
from Multan stayed during their stay in Baku. One of the basement walls was
adorned with photos of eminent visitors of the historical building. A photo
of Pervez Musharraf with his entourage was one of them. Also present in a
glass display case were artifacts given as gift by the Pakistani Embassy in
Baku. A floodgate of thoughts
opened up in my mind. The trade caravans in the ancient times must have had
to travel around 2,000 miles going from Multan to Baku. With a maximum speed
of 20 miles a day it would take 100 days to cover that distance. Did the
trade caravans leaving Multan — with stopovers in between — reach Baku in
six months? From Multan did they first travel north to Kabul, then East to
Mashhad and finally reaching the southern point of Caspian; and from there
they just went along the coast to Lankaran and then onwards to Baku? Trade caravans were the
main connections between towns of antiquity. That is how students reached the
centres of learning they wanted to go to. All the holy men landing in Multan
too must have come with those trade caravans. Ideas and technologies too must
have travelled that way. Maritime activity over long
hauls being a dangerous proposition till around the 17th century, the ancient
trade routes were mostly overland. South Asia was connected to Central Asia
and Eurasia through these trade routes. The British came to our region
through the sea; their domination of South Asia changed the trade patterns of
this area. Even after the end of the colonial era, our region could not
re-establish its vibrant historic trade connection with the landmass north of
it. I also nurtured thoughts
about the power of ancient trade centres. Why was Multan so important? Its
location by the Chenab River is vital, but did the Suraj Mandir with its
awe-inspiring idols too elevate Multan’s status? How were the ancient trade
routes formed? Little trade connections must have merged together to form
routes that were thousands of miles long. And who decided when would a trade
caravan leave a place? Who were those caravan leaders and what were their
skillsets? How large were the caravans? What merchandise would they carry
with them? Were there armed men with each caravan? Coming out of the Multani
Caravanserai I could see silk, spices, grains, and perfumes, all loaded up on
mules present outside the caravanserai. But my questions needed
good, authentic answers. I searched for books
describing the ancient trade routes of our area. One that would take me on a
trade caravan, going from Multan to Baku; another one that would describe in
great detail things that were traded in those days; a third one about a
Multani’s observations along the way and in Baku. But such books do not
exist. More than sixty years after
coming out of the colonial rule, our historians still look at the West for
researching topics that are and should be of great interest to us.
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