The Treasure Trove that is Shekhawati
Tucked away in the sunbaked deserts of Northern Rajasthan, the Shekhawati region rises from the dust like a mirage. Here, vibrant jewel-toned havelis—ornate mansions once belonging to wealthy traders—stand resplendent in defiance of time. Drenched in the lavish artistry of Rajput-Islamic splendor, their walls are alive with intricate murals that whisper tales of a forgotten golden age.
In fact, Shekhawati holds the largest concentration of frescoes in the world. Step through the gates of these historic homes and you’ll find yourself surrounded by an astonishing array of painted scenes—from vivid depictions of gods and goddesses to snapshots of local folklore, mythology, portraits of dignitaries, and glimpses of daily life as it once was.
The rise of Shekhawati was swift but dazzling. In the late 18th century, this region bloomed into a hub of wealth and commerce as Marwari and Bania merchants rode the success of the Silk Route, trading in cotton, spices, silks, and opium. But by the early 20th century, the grandeur faded. Trade shifted to the bustling ports of Bombay and Calcutta, and the merchant families—who now make up a sizeable portion of India’s richest dynasties—moved on, locking up their palatial homes and leaving them to the sun and silence of the desert.
Today, these majestic havelis remain suspended in time—some fading beautifully, others jarringly over-restored. Yet a few have been lovingly preserved, and they offer an extraordinary glimpse into Shekhawati’s opulent past. The Gulab Haveli in Mandawa, Goenka Haveli Museum in Dundlod, the Aath Havelis, and Mahansar Fort in Jhunjhunu are among the finest examples. Local caretakers linger in the courtyards and former drawing rooms, collecting tips while guarding delicate remnants of gold leaf or whispering frescoes that cling to the walls like dreams.
One particularly fascinating site is the Chokhani Double Haveli, built by two brothers. One half has been garishly restored—its vivid colors almost jarring—while the other half crumbles softly, accessible only by rooftop, its mineral-based pigments and fine carvings faint but still breathtaking. It’s a study in contrast, preservation versus ruin, both beautiful in their own right.
These murals were painted with natural pigments from minerals and vegetables—lapis lazuli, copper blue, Indian yellow, deep maroons, indigos—shades that still hold their brilliance in shadowed corners and hidden niches. Every haveli feels like a new secret unwrapped as you wander from one to the next.
Architecturally, they recall Moroccan riads, with sprawling layouts built around central courtyards. The bolted doors of once-bustling ground-floor rooms still suggest the sheer scale of commerce that passed through here. Towering gateways once welcomed elephants and camel caravans, now stand as silent testaments to a merchant class that measured wealth in caravans and gold.
I particularly loved the arched passageways at rooftop level—graceful bridges between buildings that feel like echoes of medieval Florence, threading through the sky over narrow alleys in towns like Ramgarh. But Nawalgarh stole my heart. I based myself there while exploring the region, and its Podar Haveli Museum and the exquisite Singhania Haveli in nearby Fatehpur left me spellbound.
