Before the young maharaja went to work on it, the fort had gone
unused for years, at least by humans. It was overrun with bats.
"When the council got together to try and figure out how to turn
Mehrangarh into an income-producing property," says Jasol, "the
joke was, 'Well, we could always sell bat fertilizer.' "
But Mehrangarh was Jodhpur's prized possession and the maharaja
felt compelled to succeed. "His Highness simply couldn't lose
Mehrangarh," says Mahendra Singh. "The Fort is a cultural memory of
Jodhpur. It ... was the seed of our clan. We have other forts in
the family that predate Mehrangarh, but our Jodhpur fort is special
because it had never been taken siege."
"We used private funds to get [the museum] started," His Highness
tells me of his original fort-cum-museum conception. "We hoped
people would come, and the people started to come." Ever modest,
His Highness neglects to mention that today the museum is fully
self-supporting, an impressive feat in
India. More than 70,000
international tourists and 450,000 Indians visited in 2003. Revenue
from entrance fees, the museum shop, and its cafe now finances all
upkeep and the salaries of 140 employees, too.
Perhaps the best example of the maharaja's business acumen,
though, is the conservation work on Nagaur Fort, which recently won
him a United Nations UNESCO Award. Located 100 miles northwest of
Jodhpur city, smack in the inhospitable Marwar desert, Nagaur Fort
is one of the oldest intact architectural sites in India.
Originally built in the fourth century out of mud bricks, the fort
went back and forth between Muslim and Hindu rulers for 1,500 years
until it landed in the maharaja's family portfolio. What's ironic
is that Nagaur is one of the forts the maharaja gave to the state.
Unable to maintain it, the state recently gave it back.