Highway One

Beginning at Xian in the east, it ran for 7,000 km through provinces of China, clambered over the Pamir mountains and across Central Asia, before hitting the east coast of the Mediterranean. But, as travelogues indicate, there was no single route. Crossing Central Asia several different branches developed, passing through different oasis settlements.

The section in China is over 4,000 km long. Back then, the camel was the preferred means of transport—today everyone uses the road.

We picked the desert route, beginning in Urumqi, capital of the Xinjiang province, moving towards the west from the Turpan basin and Kucha, an oasis town at the foot of the Tian Shan to Kashgar at the foothills of the Pamir mountains, and then all the way to the east to Dunhuang, at the edge of the Gobi, to finally end at Xian, in the heart of China.

In Beijing, we took a bus ride to the imperial court of the Forbidden City, the main entrance of which is at Tiananmen Square. A tour of the Forbidden City could conceivably take several days, but we had just a couple of hours to walk the hallways and pavilions and photograph its architecture and relics.

We followed the guide through the inner recesses where thousands of artisans were once employed to make silk robes and hangings for members of the royal family. The trade routes were established to acquire the famous Chinese silk, which was as precious as gold. Other commodities like ivory, exotic animals and plants were also traded.

The next morning, we visited the Great Wall. Its twisted line reminded me of a Chinese dragon waiting to snare anyone who ventured too close. The Maharaja of Baroda, Ranjitsinh Gaekwad, a painter trained at London’s Royal College of Art, was clearly overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the construction. ‘‘It’s a real culture shock to stand in front of the wall,’’ he said. ‘‘What courage and determination it must have taken to build such a huge edifice.’’

The following day, we flew to our first destination on the old silk road. Urumqi was an unattractive industrial city. David, our local guide, was happy to greet his first group of Indian tourists. The bazaar was filled with people from the Ugyr community, selling traditional handicrafts as well as mass-manufactured products.

Painter Jatin Das was in his element. In the midst of chatting with everyone, he was also busy collecting handicrafts and delighting in the cross-cultural connections he made. The warm smiles all around was a stark contrast to the indifference of Beijing.

As we went along, I began to wonder whether it was religion rather than silk that was the most significant commodity carried along this route. Buddhism came to China from India via the Silk Route during the Northern Wei dynasty in the fourth and fifth centuries AD.

Close to the ancient city of Gaochang, we visited the Bezeklik grottos and a much larger cluster of Buddhist caves in Kucha, the Kizil grottos. The artists fell into a heated debate about the techniques involved in the caves’ murals. The paintings were in varied conditions, some quite poorly preserved as a result of Islamic invasions and the Cultural Revolution. The best conserved ones were at the Mogao grottos at Dunhuang.

Standing in front of these intricate artworks, the London-based painter Shibu Natesan wondered whether modern day China had lost its sense of religion.

As we emerged from the caves, we were drawn to a group of musicians a few yards away. To our surprise, we realised that they were playing Raj Kapoor’s Awara Hoon. Painter Manjit Bawa immediately joined in.

I was getting a bit impatient to see something different. That’s when David announced we were driving to the Emi minaret mosque in Turpan. In contrast to the red doors and yellow ceramic tiles of Beijing’s imperial architecture, the sandstone monument’s familiar jali work is typical of Islamic monuments in Central Asia and elsewhere.

The train journey from Turpan to Kucha gave us a much needed break from the hectic sightseeing. The artists broke free, and we had a chance to catch up with the younger lot, popularly known as the Bombay Boys—Baiju Parthan, Krishnamachari Bose and Sudarshan Shetty—who were constantly in search of hi-tech gadgets and DVDs.

‘‘The erosion of the past is very visible here,” said Baiju. “They are trying to rediscover the past, hastily putting up museums, trying to comprehend their own history.’’

The only thing constant on this journey was food. From authentic Chinese to Ugyr and of course, our very own bakharwadis, theplas and achar—all the way from Baroda. Although the quality of food varied, the quantity was always humungous. We tasted everything from Peking Duck to horse meat.

We were all drawn to the mysterious city of Kashgar. Even today, 60,000 people gather at the Idkha mosque to celebrate Ramadan. The Sunday market exudes the old Silk Road spirit: People of different nationalities sell everything from spice and wool to livestock and knives. There are sheep’s guts by the metre and the usual abundance of nuts, dried fruit, fresh herbs, pearls, carpets and fabric. The women in the group came back laden with strings of pearls. ‘‘From Pakistan?’’ the shopkeepers kept asking us. “No, Hindustan,’’ we replied.

It was pouring when we reached the ancient city of Xian, home of the famous Terracotta Warriors. As the starting point of the old Silk Route, it has always been an important trading centre. Sculptor S Radhakrishnan marvelled at the power and presence of Emperor Qinshihuan’s army. Thousands of craftsmen and women worked for 11 years to create the terracotta soldiers, horses and chariots meant to protect him in the afterlife. However, the warriors are not the only treasures of Xian. The Shaanxi provincial history museum houses some of China’s most exquisite and rare artefacts.

For south Indian painter Laxma Goud, the museum articulated the parallels in the two civilisational societies. ‘‘I don’t see any difference. Either we are here or they are there.’’

Business deals between India and China are increasing by the day. When trade flowed along the Silk Road, it meant an exchange not only of commodities, but also of ideas. While India is still looking to the West for a lead, there is far more to be learnt from the shared yet diverse culture of its neighbours.

The Silk Route fell into disuse; but its story is far from over, as this trip by small group of Indian artists proved. We returned convinced that seeking resonances from the past is the key to building a rich future.