Why I Broke My Rule on Tourist Guides at Murshidabad

I have a love-hate relationship with tourist guides; well actually more hate than love. And now that smartphones have placed information at my fingertips, I try to avoid them, the way a vegetarian avoids fish. But it wasn’t like this until that day at the Konarak Sun Temple, when a cocky guide made an exceptionally insensitive remark while pointing out an erotic sculpture. Since then I have overheard them mouthing corny lines on history and culture, trying my best not to cringe at their inanities. I prefer audio guides where available like at Jodhpur’s Mehrangarh Fort or the Mysore Palace; you can rewind and replay as many times as you want. I also like the guided tours that are included in the entrance ticket price, like in Bikaner Fort, Maharana Pratap Museum at Haldighati and Jai Vilas Palace at Gwalior. But I must concede one advantage of hiring a tourist guide; they point out the best angles for photography, which would otherwise need to be discovered serendipitously.

But recently at Murshidabad, I broke my rule and ended up hiring 5 guides in the space of less than 5 hours. My overall guide for the day also doubled up as my charioteer, the chariot being an electric powered rickshaw. But for him, I would have never known that Azimunissa Begum lay buried under the stairs leading to the mosque.

The guide at the dilapidated Nashipur Rajbari spoke in a booming voice that reverberated off the moss covered walls. He pointed out this Shola Pith model of the palace preserved inside a dirty glass case. Another very important nugget of information I gleaned from him was that the Bengali TV serial Behula was extensively filmed here. It is almost a ritual among tourist guides to narrate such trivial trivia. 

A short distance away, the curiously named Nashipur Akhara was even more decrepit .My charioteer gently urged me to enter, adding that there are worthwhile things to photograph. After I had purchased the entrance ticket for Rs 5, a guide tagged on to me. Luckily I didn’t brush him away as I am wont to do. This temple cum museum has so many interesting exhibits tucked away here and there. Like this vintage car purportedly bought by the Nawab for Rs 80. The guide was more than happy when I offered him Rs 10 at the end of a whistle-stop tour. 

At Kathgola Palace, I got probably punished for refusing a guide. I stepped on a mossy patch to get a good camera angle and slipped. Luckily only my ego was bruised, not camera and bones. 

At the imposing Katra Mosque, I was in no mood to have a guide follow me around as I focused on photography to get the symmetry right. But the persevering lad captivated me by rattling off the entire genealogy of the Bengal Nawabs. I got chatty with him and he told me that he teaches children to supplement his income. I tipped him generously. 

Hazarduari Palace is the most imposing edifice in Murshidabad. My charioteer had warned me not to engage a guide for they are not allowed inside the place. Probably I dismissed the would-be guide a bit too rudely. All that I wanted to know about the palace was available on my smartphone. But phones were not permitted inside and had to be deposited in the cloak room. 

Dusk was approaching fast as I finally reached Khosbagh, after crossing the Bhagirathi. The solitary guide here was desperate to offer his services and dropped his rate by 100%. It was almost closing time. Numerous souls lie buried in the sprawling Khosbagh and but for a guide, you would never know who was who. 

Murshidabad has made me reassess the importance and value of tourist guides.