Udaipur is a charming city, everybody knows. It exudes an air of romance and has a certain way about it that makes you feel wonderful.

I was there recently, to partake in the birthday celebrations of Arvind Singh Mewar, the Maharaja of Udaipur. And in the few days that I was there, I felt really sorry that all the princely states of our country got amalgamated into the Union of India, that all royal titles got scrapped, Privvy purses snatched. Sorry, because when you go witnessing occasions like birthday celebrations of Maharajas, you get a peep into royal life and realise how much richer living could be for them and how much more entertaining for us. How connected we could have felt with a rich past that India really has.

Watching the 76th Maharana of Udaipur, Arvind Singh Mewar, seated on a gold gilded, richly tapestried, high backed chair on the morning of his 57th birthday, I had varied thoughts racing through my mind.

How does one come to terms with who you are? Or, who your forefathers were? They were not ordinary people, yours in no ordinary life. You are part of a dynasty. The Mewar dynasty. India's most famous royalty. In fact the world's largest serving family. Born in unrecorded times, in the mythological era of amazing heroes. Its members having descended from Lav, the older twin son of Rama, the incarnation of Vishnu, in turn a descendent of Surya, the Hindu Sun God� phew. Oh, and that is why significantly your Mewar coat-of-arms features the visage of this illustrious golden God.

But Arvind Singh Mewar wears his grand ancestry quite casually. He possess all the trappings that set him apart from common mortals, yet he is rather laid back, down to earth and real. He is impressive in appearance: a powerful build from his years as a keen sportsman, a flourishing Rajput beard, soulful eyes and a mellifluous baritone voice, which he uses to converse quietly, thoughtfully. Wryly he calls himself self-employed. And pray, what could that mean. That, simply put, means he is the present custodian of the 1,500-year-old Mewar dynasty and the chairman and managing director of the family's commercial business and its many charitable and heritage institutions. Under the banner of the HRH Group (it stands for Historic Resort Hotels, not, as you would jump to conclude, His Royal Highness) his private limited company, he oversees the running of their numerous palace hotels all over Rajasthan. His business acumen is said to be as sharp as his ancestors� steel swords.

But on the morning of his special day he looks anything but the sharp businessman. Regal, yes, and mellow; and I watch how respectful and in awe those surrounding him are in of him. They celebrate his birthday joyously, with a lot of pomp and ceremony and gaiety. We are at his private residence, The Shambhu Niwas Palace. It is a magnificent mansion at the southern end of the City Palace Complex, with sweeping driveways and fountains with ornate turrets, high dome and a spacious terrace garden overlooking the famous Lake Palace Hotel also belonging to him.

The terrace is where all the action is taking place. Friends and other important people have started gathering there and beyond, past the connecting door, the whole world seems to be queuing up, waiting to come in and wish the Maharaja.

But all must wait. First there is the dharamsabha. This has started early morning and involves the religious section of the palace, represented by a whole lot of priests, blessing him, no doubt praying for his longevity. After some rituals, some chantings, around 10 o'clock, the immediate family � males only, greet him, starting off the nazrana. Those younger in age offer him gifts/money and the Maharaja returns it to them, doubling it. I didn�t quite catch how that works but it's a nice custom. The men all look very regal in their princely attires of brocade and fine fabrics and colourful headgear.

That done, its time for friends and other biggies who then wish the birthday boy. These also include other royal members from nearby towns. Some present who I met were from the royal families of Danta, Kota, Balshinoi, Dungarpur, Pratapgad, Banera, Sitamau.

But the best is when it's the turn of the local proletariat. Streams and streams of simple people young and old, men and women, also children � whole schools of them, all come bearing gifts and things, large and small, odd shaped and unique � flowers and more flowers, garlands and sweets.

All this amidst colourfully dressed women squatting outside on the cool white marble floor of the palace, playing dholaks, singing robust Rajasthani songs. A veritable feast. Now the festivities which will last well past midnight have truly begun.

As people of all rank and file, walk past the Maharaja and heir in waiting, Yuvraj Lakshyaraj, barely stopping a second or two or long enough to bow, elsewhere on the palace grounds with its blood red colour painted wrought iron royal gates is a band playing western tunes. Pipes and drums go rolling on. And food. Of course, food. There's piping hot breakfast, served yet in another area. For each and everyone. And those who have finished the nazrana saunter towards these tables and make merry, feast on a Rajasthani nashta.

So how many people eventually wish the Maharaja. Two thousand? Three thousand? Don't know. Nobody is counting. It's inauspicious. But the never-ending queues last past 2 p.m. which is when Arvind Singh retires into his private quarters for the briefest of moments only to re-appear stripped off his brocades and silks and jewels and turban, in simple white shirt and trousers. In this new avatar, shorn off all those heavy duty clothes, he looks relaxed, heaves a sigh of relief, and turns to the next part of the celebrations.

Which is lunch. On the private terrace,under a beautiful old, nay, ancient tree.The tables are laid for a very chosen, very select few. His most immediate family, representatives of other princely states, house guests. The lunch goes on and soon its evening and time for the second nazrana or nachrawal.

Now it's the family women who greet him � officially, in the company of 500 invitees who have come for a sitdown dinner. Kutumb-kabeeli it used o be known as, formerly.

Dinner for family and tribe. This happens in the Zenana Mahal, a charming wing of the palace complex, which has painstakingly been transformed into a fairyland. The white canopies over ornate marble tables with glass domes encasing hundreds of white candles, work like magic. Rose petals adorn the floor in multiple patterns, happy children run around, swirling ghagras and the rustle of silk sarees, the clinking of wines glasses, the heady perfume all lend to a mesmerising atmosphere.

Dinner has come from the Maharaja's personal kitchen, not from the kitchens of his palace hotels � Shiv Niwas or Fateh Prakash or Dove Court or the Lake Palace. His personal cooks have made sure it's a royal repast. There is Lapsi ( it is traditional to start auspicious occasions with this sweet dish), Ker Sangria, Gatte Ka Saaz, Dekchi Ka Sula, Pithore, Mangodi Pulao, Kanda Hari Mirch Ka Khatta, Panchkuta, Chakki Ka Saag, Dal Baati Churma, Maas Ka Achar, Maas Ka Soola, Safed Maas, Lal Maas, Jungle Maas, Soole Ke Kebabs, Kachi Haldi Ka Saag, Mutton Ka Korma, Dil Jammi, Ghevar, Jelebi and numerous other sweets.

The night went on and on and in this very vibrant surrounding of complete Rajput grandeur, royalty in full regalia with live qawali, my focus is on the Maharaja who seems to continue to enjoy himself. He has just finished cutting a birthday cake, he is walking around, talking to people, laughing away, joking with his daughter Bhargavi, and fondly playing with his grand daughter.

The long day does not seem to have affected him in the least. He is none the worse for wear. It is apparent that Arvind Singh Mewar is built of sterner stuff, that he is ready to take on the coming years in his great stride � as he aptly puts it: �I believe in the past but my feet are firmly rooted in the present and I am constantly thinking about the future.�

Well Arvind, here comes the Mewar Sun and I hope and pray it will always be shining happily and brightly on you and your people for evermore .

And yes, Happy Birthday.