The land of Sindh has an attraction like the colors of Ajrak, which make one's feet go away after seeing them. These colors are a combination of happiness and sadness. Somewhere in the fields, there are waves of joy, and somewhere in the mud huts, someone's tears shine. In this land, historical buildings, forts, mosques, temples have been silent for centuries, shrouded in mystery. The people here hope for a rainbow in the nights of Amaus.
A small town some distance from the Indian border is an important tourist destination. As you get into your car on a November morning, one scene after another unfolds. Our journey begins at a distance of two and a half to three hours from Karachi. As soon as you cross the Quaidabad bridge, a series of dhaba-like hotels begin where you can sit and enjoy the best fried meat and makhani dal with the truck drivers. Sitting on the couch and sipping high tea is refreshing. The traffic of domestic and foreign experts who come to see carved graves and research on them also begins in the nearby Chokundi cemetery.
As soon as the chains of markets, factories and factories are over, silence reigns everywhere. Sunflowers welcome the bow. The great heritage of Thatta and Mukli begins to fill the eyes with light. Seeing these masterpieces of stone carving, salutes are offered to those artisans who worked like a goldsmith in those times, unaware of modern technology. From Sajawal a road turns towards Jati. Around here, the verdant fields mark the arrival of winter. Sitting in the shade of thick trees and drinking lassi, the beauty of Sindh begins to increase. Domes of mosques and shrines can be seen across the fields.
Pots are always cooked on the tombs of these saints, pilgrims are always thronged. Those whose wishes are fulfilled, they bring offerings. For those who don't, they wait. High-roof vehicles ply from Thatta here, charging Rs. 150 per passenger to reach the destination safely. Beyond the nearby fields are vast ponds and marshes, with bird sightings from Siberia awe-inspiring. Their beauty adds to the forests.
From the CV of Karachi to the lakes of Larkana, the sky is filled with the noise of these birds, but due to illegal hunting for some time, the water of these lakes has started turning red with the blood of innocent birds. As soon as winter comes, they start coming down here to find their aquatic food, but now they come in large numbers across the border within a few hours, where millions of dollars are spent on publicity campaigns for their protection and survival.
There is a chill in the markets of Jati city, people are lost in a strange silence. Shopkeepers welcome tourists with folded hands. Here is the shrine of Sheikh Salamat. Before partition, his devotees used to come from India also by boats. This area is a treasure of ancient culture and customs. The streets are covered with soft grass like a carpet. At the back of the dargah is a black stone enshrined in glass. There is also a monastery here. The local residents announce the distribution of Niaz twice a day by sounding the Naqar.
This shrine is washed with milk every year by the women of the village and this process has been going on for centuries. Beyond the city, the coastline is once again home to bird-watching. The whole atmosphere has a calmness like a movie set. A guest house and a wooden mosque are also established here. The beauty and simplicity of the mosque impresses the tourist. It is an example of magnificent construction. Fascinating and unique work can be seen on the walls and ceilings. The wooden vines and carvings are so beautiful that the eyes start to sparkle.
The light of the day begins to fade into the shadows of the evening. Military movements are seen across the deserted coast. At one time, a railway line was also built here, which is indicated by the scattered ruins. Beyond the Jati is a challenging and adventurous route that is a boon for adventurers and tourists. In the nearby fields, the farmer women with their faces hidden in red and white shawls with green colors are seen busy with their work. The road ahead begins to take the form of marshy land and streams.
If you stop the car and go on a trail, you can see the desert plains ahead, but sea winds blow even in these desert places. Locals say this is a remote place from Karachi, indeed you can walk around here in a day and return. Monuments built by the Mughals can also be seen in these deserts. Before partition, people's mode of transportation was camel. They used to travel in the form of caravans and it is not difficult to reach Hyderabad from the Indian city of Kutch. Tourists are startled to hear the bells jingling around the necks of camels in the gray shadows of the evening. When they see the carriage, they start to change their course, their young guardians join hands when they see the guests walking in bare feet.
The sound of bells ringing in the camel's feet echoes the ancient times and this is the time for the return of the tourist. Unfamiliar voices are heard from nearby bushes. People sitting in the Jati markets look with surprised eyes as to who these strangers have entered our world. These Kaghans are lovers of Swat, they spend their capital there, they can't find their heart in these wild jungles. Here the pages of the past are left unread.
This border strip between the two neighboring countries was once called Ban Ganga, then it was named after a British officer, Sir Creek. Monsoon rains wreak havoc in this uninhabited area. India has built paved floors and tall towers in its territory with telescopes mounted on them. Indian tourists see views from far away from them, but there is no such arrangement on our side that tourists can even visit here.
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