The afternoon sun highlights the snow a top the conical mountain top that is visible from the balcony of the riverside restaurant run by the Himachal Pradesh Tourism Development Corporation (HPTDC). Two Punjabi gentlemen are discussing the intricacies of Ghalib’s ghazals punctuated by occasional recitations. On my right, flows the river Ravi, starting somewhere up in the mountains in a place called Bara Bhangal which is visible from where I am. The name is alluring. This erstwhile kingdom of Chamba is virtually surrounded by high mountains on all sides and can be reached only by foot, even now. But December is approaching and there is no way I can fulfil my desire to go exploring.

The mountains are coloured red at the moment but there are few tourists to savour the scene. Except for a couple of families, I haven’t seen any other tourists.

I walk out of the restaurant and stand in front of the large grassy expanse facing the town. Chaugan, the name by which it is known, was originally about a kilometre long and 75 metres wide but now it has been cut into pieces and the present field is only about 400 metres long. Young boys are playing football, cricket and hockey in different corners. Families are basking in the sun. One can see the Royal Palace, now converted into a degree college, rising over the Chaugan. Along the edges of this grassy field there are benches.

In the month of June the local people gather in the Chaugan where the Minjar fair takes place. Religious idols are immersed in the river at the end of the festival. After the Minjar, the grass disappears and the field becomes dusty. But the hotel manager assured me that the grass comes back within two weeks, thanks to its being an Australian variety planted by the erstwhile king.

Many travellers have compared Chamba to a medieval Italian fortress town. It was founded by the Pahari king, Sahil Verma, in the eighth century and named after his daughter, Champavati. Modern Chamba, with its big college, museum, ancient and well-preserved temples, a large Punjabi community, and at least five religions (Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, Christianity and Sikhism), is a big town surrounded by hills. On the way, one finds impossibly terraced mountain slopes merging with the river. A couple of turns and suddenly the main Chamba valley lies like a photograph before you. The town has a unique character with lots of small lanes merging into one another. In these lanes one finds old and ornate houses co-existing with brick and pillar monsters. There are women visiting old shops specialising in reshaping dented brass pots. These shops exist side by side with modern glass-fronted stores selling all the latest brands of washing machines.

The Laxmi Narayan Temple complex, in the old north Indian style, exists more or less intact. There are three temples each dedicated to Shiva and Vishnu. The main temple, belonging to Vishnu, has an outer wall with pillared balconies. They are perhaps amongst the oldest surviving examples of north Indian temple architecture. The idols inside are fascinating, too, and equally old. One is made from marble brought from the Narmada valley in central India, some are made of brass, some rock carved. Most of them are from the 11th century onwards, built by successive Chamba rajas. There are a number of priests and some of them are going about the business of putting flowers on the forehead of the idols that adorn the three walls of each temple.

Water drips on a Shivaling in the courtyard falling from the top through a tuft of glass inserted inside a hole made at the bottom of an earthen pot. Incense sticks and dhoop are also burning at various places. Sindoor and water trickling down the old images of deities confirm the sway of old traditions. As a result, the noses and the eyes of the idols have weathered away. It is amazing to see these thousand-year-old rock carved deities still venerated. Any other place, they would have been housed in a museum. But it is this continuation of age-old traditions that attracts one to this place. There is even an office of the Archaeological Survey of India adjacent to the temple complex.

A cleanly-attired holy man with spectacles and the ritual paraphernalia is seen on the saddle of a customised motorcycle. A colourfully decorated ox stands inside the structure that has been attached to the motorcycle; posters of holy men adorn the outer walls. Later, I see him sitting on the side of the parked vehicle, microphone blaring out holy numbers in front of the Chaugan.