“That Is My Home”
An extraordinary coincidence, somewhere between Odisha and Chennai
December 2018 — Dhenkanal, Odisha, India
I had stayed in some unusual places during my travels through India, but spending a night in a Maharaja’s palace was certainly among the more memorable.
Dhenkanal Palace, in the Indian state of Odisha, was once the residence of the rulers of a princely state. By the time I arrived, it had also become a heritage homestay, welcoming travellers like me.
On December 17, 2018, I checked in for a one-night stay.
There was something rather wonderful about finding myself inside a building that had been home to generations of royalty. The grand rooms, the chandeliers, the furnishings and the atmosphere all spoke of a very different way of life.
That evening, I had dinner with the Maharaja’s son.
I remember the long dining table and the chandelier overhead. It was an unusual experience for a Canadian travelling through India, but it was also a warm and personal one.
The Maharaja himself was away. I briefly met his wife the following morning before continuing my journey.
I photographed the palace, enjoyed the experience and moved on.
Or so I thought.
Ten days later, I was at Bhubaneswar airport, preparing to fly to Chennai.
I boarded the aircraft, made my way to row five and settled into my window seat.
A little later, an elderly Indian woman stopped beside my row. She explained that she had the aisle seat but would much prefer to sit by the window. Would I mind exchanging seats with her?
I was happy to oblige.
She settled into the window seat, and I moved to the aisle. Shortly afterward, her husband arrived and took the middle seat between us.
It seemed an entirely unremarkable little exchange of airline seats.
We began chatting.
I have always enjoyed meeting people during my travels, and conversations with strangers have often turned out to be among the most memorable experiences of a journey.
This one was about to become particularly memorable.
As we talked, I mentioned that I had recently spent some time travelling through Odisha.
Somewhere in the conversation, I told him that I had stayed at a palace in Dhenkanal.
I took out my iPhone and found a photograph of the large yellow building where I had spent the night.
I showed it to him.
He looked at the photograph.
“That is my home.”
For a moment, I could hardly believe what I had heard.
His home?
Of all the people I might have encountered on an aircraft travelling from Bhubaneswar to Chennai, I had somehow found myself seated beside the very man whose palace I had stayed in just days earlier.
He was Brigadier Raja Kamakhya Prasad Singh Deo, the Maharaja of Dhenkanal.
The man I had missed meeting during my stay at the palace was now sitting beside me on an airplane.
And had his wife not asked me to exchange seats with her, we might never have had that conversation.
I subsequently learned more about the gentleman with whom I had been chatting.
He had served for many years in India’s Parliament, held ministerial positions in the Indian government, including in defence, and served as a brigadier in the Territorial Army.
Yet none of that was what made the encounter so special to me.
It was the coincidence.
I had visited his home without meeting him. Ten days later, thousands of feet above India, I had encountered him entirely by chance.
I have often reflected on the unlikely connections that travel creates.
Sometimes they arise from a conversation in a market, a chance invitation into someone’s home, or a moment of curiosity that leads you somewhere unexpected.
And sometimes, quite literally, they depend on where you happen to sit.
I went to Dhenkanal hoping to experience a little of its history.
I left with something much more personal.
A story I could never have planned.
And one I will never forget.