We had a fine view from the ramparts and minarets of the pavilion.

From the fort we went on driving through the bazaars of Ajmir, which were highly interesting but less busy and crowded, perhaps, than at Ahmedabad. Gay coloured cottons and muslins, embroidered slippers, pottery, and grain of all kinds were mostly in evidence, the latter arranged in heaps on cloths spread on the ground in front of the shops, and measured out by the traders squatting by their merchandise. The fronts of the native houses here were mostly in white plaster, often painted with designs in blue and yellow of formal flowers in vases, or quaint animals and figures in profile. There was much fancy and variety in the design of the little arcaded projecting balconies corbelled out from the wall, and ogee arched windows, and moulded plaster and painted ornament.

We presently, at the end of the principal street, approached the magnificent double gateway of the famous Dargah—named the Dilkasha (or “heart-expanding”) gate. From the street one really sees three ogee arches of different heights in succession, one beyond the other, the highest being flanked by towering minarets crowned with cupolas. The whole gateway in the bright morning sunlight looked a fairy-like aerial structure, fair and white, and glittering here and there with gold, and tile patterns in blue and yellow.

The Dargah of Ajmir is revered as the burial-place of one Kwaja Sahib, a saint of the thirteenth century. His beautiful white and gold domed shrine enclosing his silver tomb occupies the centre of the inner court, and is visited by troops of pilgrims. A great festival is held in honour of the saint every year, when Ajmir is thronged with pilgrims. Two enormous iron pots are shown, standing each side the entrance to the Dargah, in which at the festival are cooked tons of food freely given to the pilgrims. The biggest pot is reputed to hold no less than 10,000 lbs. of food. The food consists of mess of rice, oil, sugar, raisins, and almonds, which is rather suggestive of a sort of plum pudding, and on this scale costs about £100.

SHRINE OF THE KWAJA, AJMIR

On first entering the Dargah through the great gateway one sees a large paved court with several domed tombs and a mosque, and rising high the old fort of Tarrgarh, white-walled on the brown hill, is seen above. I noted a very fine bronze many-branched candelabra on one of the domed tombs. Passing through this court the second court is entered where stands the shrine. It is surrounded by a low marble balustrade, and is picturesquely overshadowed by a large ancient ilex tree, through the spreading branches of which with their masses of rich dark foliage glows the colour and gold of the richly decorated shrine. Through the open doors gleam the silver of the tomb, and the ivory-like dome fretted and crested with gold sparkling in the full light of the sun pierces the deep blue sky. Curious low tapering pedestals with small cupolas at the top are placed about the courts and around the shrine at intervals. These are pierced with small recesses, in which, on festival occasions, small lamps are placed. Beyond the shrine we come out upon a high-walled terrace which extends with a succession of bays along the sides of a deep narrow tank, flights of steps leading down to the water’s edge at different points.

It is the custom when visitors leave the Dargah for the attendants to hang garlands of flowers about their necks, and in return for this graceful attention an offering to the shrine—or to its hangers on—is expected.

The visitor is, however, rather carefully watched inside the Dargah. The shrine itself is not allowed to be entered. Shoes must be removed on entering the court, or the big canvas shoes put on over them. On sketching intent I was not allowed to pitch a camp stool near the shrine or in the sacred precincts, and even open umbrellas, for shade, were objected to by these jealous watchful devotees.

From the Dargah we went to see the roofless mosque of “Arhai-din-ka-Jhonpra,” which being interpreted signifies “The house of two and a half days.” It is on the hill opposite the fort, but on the lower slope, and is approached through narrow streets, and finally reached by a steep flight of steps which lead to the gateway of the court of the mosque. It is now little more than a beautiful red sandstone carved screen of open pointed arches, but the detail is exceedingly rich and happy in scale, and largely consists of bordering inscriptions outlining the arches and their rectangular framings, the texts being in both Cufic and Togra characters, and both these and the surface decoration generally are delicately but sharply cut in sunk carving, which preserves a certain unity of ornamental effect. Arranged along the side of the court are many carved fragments which are the remains of the Jain Temple, transformed into the Mussulman Mosque in the year 1236 by Altamash, who conquered the city, and was said to have effected the transformation in two and a half days.