Why Rani ki Vav Scares a Patriarchal Sense of History | Nikhil Pattani Travels
I left Mumbai before the city could wake up—no traffic sermons, no honking hymns. Just a thermos of coffee, an overconfident playlist, and a destination most people treat like a tick-box heritage spot. Patan, Gujarat. Rani ki Vav. What I didn’t know then was this: I wasn’t travelling to a monument. I was travelling into one. Mumbai to Patan: The Road That Peels You Layer by Layer Mumbai → Surat → Vadodara → Ahmedabad → Mehsana → Patan. NH48 does most of the heavy lifting. Smooth tarmac, chai breaks that turn philosophical, and landscapes that slowly detox you from urban arrogance. By the time you cross Mehsana, the air changes. It’s quieter. Older. Almost watchful. Patan doesn’t announce itself. It lets you arrive. And then— you see nothing. No towering structure. No grand dome. Just a modest entrance that looks… underwhelming. That’s the first trick Rani ki Vav plays on you. The Shock: You Don’t Enter Rani ki Vav, You Descend into Her One step down. Then another. Then another. And sud...