Hauz Khas Trail, Delhi

“The city of Delhi, built hundreds of years ago, fought for, died for, coveted and desired, built, destroyed and rebuilt, for five and six and seven times, mourned and sung, raped and conquered, yet whole and alive.. Yet the city stands still intact, as do many more forts and tombs, and monuments, remnants and reminders of old Delhis, holding on to life with a tenacity and purpose which is beyond comprehension and belief.”

– Ahmed Ali, “Twilight in Delhi”

Delhi's secret treasures

In the heart of one of the city's most posh localities, presently abounding with upscale fashion boutiques, glittering designer showrooms, expensive restaurants and resplendent souvenir and antiques outlets, lie the remains of Hauz Khas, a regally-patronized, breathtakingly beautifully constructed medieval Islamic seminary (“madrasa”) which – in its original outstanding splendor as a colossal L-shaped construction thoroughly ornamented with numerous colonnades, a profusion of domes and highly-detailed filigreed stone latticework screens, richly plastered over with myriads of delicate stucco patterns and embossed calligraphy inscriptions, and warmly painted in reds, oranges and gold to reflect a beautiful shimmering image in the purple-green waters of the colossal, deep tank that exists besides its enormous presence – is unquestionably acknowledged to be the remarkable zenith of Tughlaq-era (AD 1320-1414) cultural and civilizational heritage that today survives in the form of magnificent massive ruins and beautifully illustrated royal histories and travel accounts. The esteemed seminary, christened “Madrasa-i-Feroze Shahi”, after Emperor Feroz Shah Tughlaq (reign AD 1351-88) who conceived and commissioned it, is said to have been regarded as an unparalleled center for education and learning especially of arts, calligraphy, algebra, mathematics, history, philosophy and Islamic jurisprudence (refer Pixelated Memories - Hauz Khas complex). Scattered around and overshadowed by it are numerous minor, historically insignificant and architecturally inconsequential, but visually fascinating edifices.

Geometry and flourishes - Poti ka Gumbad

Discounting the outstanding Bagh-i-Alam ka Gumbad and the downtrodden, curmudgeon Kali Gumti and Tohfewala Gumbad in the vast, thoroughly forested Deer Park adjacent which I have already documented in articles on this blog (refer Pixelated Memories - Deer Park), here we shall traverse around the Hauz Khas Village (HKV) proper where, overshadowed by massive trees possessing immense canopies composed of thick gnarled branches, abound several smaller monuments camouflaged as street furniture in the midst of tiny plots of beautifully maintained, manicured lawns carpeted with thick tufts of vibrant green grass and plentiful rows of flowering shrubbery. The history of the commissioning and construction of most of these monuments has not been documented in contemporaneous literary accounts, nor, in the case of the mausoleums, is anything known about the identity or the life and times of the personality interred within.

Another Delhi

Most of these structures and the minuscule garden plots enclosing them have been recently spruced up keeping in line with the beautification drive that visually and aesthetically glorified most of the city on the occasion of the 19th Commonwealth Games (CWG XIX 2010) and consequentially several of these monuments are lit up with incandescent orange and blue lights even during night time and make for interesting photography and evening stroll avenues. Also, granted that HKV is regarded as one of the most posh localities in all of Delhi, the monuments here and the small lawns surrounding them are markedly free of encroachments and conspicuously well-preserved and well-maintained by the archaeological and horticultural authorities respectively. Sadly however, while BMWs, Jaguars and Mercedes zip past here at almost all times of the day, seldom do the passer-bys bother to stop or even grace a second glance to these magnificent structures.

Closest to the Hauz Khas group of monuments is a cluster of three mausoleums – Choti Gumti (“Small Domed Building”), Sakri Gumti (“Narrow Domed Building”) and Barakhamba (“Twelve-pillared Domed Building”) – the first two separated from each other by a wide road that traverses the different localities of Hauz Khas and the last separated from both the others by another wide road that connects HKV to the arterial, perennially crowded Aurobindo Marg in the near distance.

Choti Gumti –

Adorably dwarfish - Choti Gumti

Coordinates: 28°33'12.3"N 77°12'04.8"E
Choti Gumti is a typical perfectly-proportioned Lodi-era (AD 1451-1526) mausoleum that reflects pretty gracefulness despite its diminutive magnitude. The cubical mausoleum noticeably employs small decorative alcoves in cohesion with the numerous pointed arches of the facades on all sides and is surmounted by a proportionate semicircular dome which is itself crowned with a blossoming lotus finial. The noteworthy use of “kangura” patterns (battlement-like ornamentation) and traces of small budding minarets protruding from the corners of the octagonal drum (base) of the dome and the embossed rectangular facades on each of the sides adds a certain flamboyant flair to the otherwise subdued architecture. A solitary grave slightly offset against the side of the raised ornamental courtyard that surrounds the monument crumbles to dust against the relentless assault of the elements while the dark and forgotten interiors, which possess three more sarcophagi, have been miserably transformed into a store room for housing lawnmowers and broomsticks and those information panels which never got around to be affixed against the mausoleum compound’s entrance. Seldom do visitors venture in this forgotten patch of beautified green paradise, but when they do intermittently it is merely to escape the scorching heat of the summer sun or to cuddle into the arms of a beloved and never to observe and appreciate the architecture and the gentle outline of the gorgeous monument. Sigh!

Sakri Gumti –

Enigmatic - Sakri Gumti

Coordinates: 28°33'11.6"N 77°12'06.7"E
The triple-storied, extremely narrow Sakri Gumti opposite is a remarkable edifice. It is not known what purpose did this building serve – it is too congested and unusually designed to function as a mausoleum, moreover there is no trace of a grave inside. Conjecture is that it originally was a gateway for a garden complex housing at its centerpiece one of the nearby mausoleums – but then again, all its four faces possess an entrance arch and if it ever was a gateway, it certainly was a unique one! What is even more compelling is the presence of a small extension of rubble wall that runs adjacent one of its sides – originally, the wall must have entirely blocked one of its entrances – why then was it constructed this way is anyone’s guess. Externally, through the appendage of ornamental arches and windows the structure has been afforded the semblance of a double-storied building. The short dome rests on a relatively high drum delineated by a row of kanguras identical to the ones that demarcate the roof’s vertical expanse. The only other decorations exist in the form of rudimentary, roughly carved patterns sparsely embossed on a few of the stones that compose its exterior surface and small adornment arched niches and squinches (diagonal added between two arms of a corner so as to span space and convert a square structure successively into an octagon and then a polygon/circle to support the heavy dome) along the confined interiors.

Crowning glory

Barakhamba –

Coordinates: 28°33'10.0"N 77°12'08.1"E
In architectural lexicon “Barakhamba” translates to “Twelve-pillared Domed Building”, however the extremely massive Lodi-era structure present here is an innovative advancement over the simplistic twelve-pillared constructions – the enormous domed square is supported upon pillars of different girths such that the corner protrusions spontaneously take the form of significantly solid buttressed walls. The three arched entrances located along the center of each face are embedded within a wide arched depression that justifiably reflects the colossal nature of the monument under consideration. The entire structure rests upon a high, gently sloping artificial hill and is surrounded by numerous graves and two rare constructions – a singular worn bastion that totally appears out of place here in the absence of any connecting walls and a curious square projection inset with a small alcove (which might have been once used to house an earthen oil lamp) facing the monument.

Considerably thick - Barakhamba

The hemmed-in area around the monument, despondently enclosed by high iron grilles and flanked along one side by the perpetually crowded road, is hidden from passer-bys and pedestrians alike by a nearly impenetrable veil of flourishing vegetation and perhaps that explains why it is not as tenderly maintained as the small patches that frame the other monuments nearby – thus the grass-shrouded lawns are bordered by unruly hedges and punctuated by sporadic outbursts of brightly colorful weeds, thereby suggesting an aura of uncontrollable wilderness benevolently shaded by massive trees that weigh down upon it from every conceivable direction. And in the enclosed space thus isolated abound peacocks with brilliant violet plumage who frolic around and often sweep down from trees to generously pose for the occasional photographer who treads this way.

Dadi-Poti ka Gumbad –

Brown beauty - Dadi ka Gumbad

Coordinates: 28°33'11.8"N 77°12'13.2"E
At the very intersection of Aurobindo Marg and HKV Road (couple of hundred meters from the previous cluster of mausoleums) exists another enclosed landscaped garden, studded with well-maintained hedges and lines of ornamental lampposts, hiding in its beautiful bosom two of the most striking and exceedingly well-preserved mausoleums of unknown identity that the city possesses – referred to as the mausoleums of “Dadi-Poti” (Grandmother-Granddaughter) or “Bibi-Bandi” (Mistress-Hand servant) following later date nomenclature originating from the difference in their spatial dimensions, they rest adjacent each other on contiguous artificial grass-enshrouded hills. The larger mausoleum, “Dadi ka Gumbad” dated to the reign of the Lodi Dynasty (AD 1451-1526), is a massive triple-storied edifice possessing as its distinguishing features exquisitely crafted medallions adorning its interiors and tapering fluted pillars flanking the rectangular embossed facades on each of the sides along its exteriors. The smaller mausoleum, “Poti ka Gumbad” dated to the earlier reign of the Tughlaq Dynasty (AD 1320-1414), boasts of an unfamiliar domed kiosk surmounting its towering dome and displays a splendidly outstanding profusion of intricate geometric and floral plasterwork patterns along one of its sides.

Unusually surmounted - Poti ka Gumbad

It is conjectured that both the mausoleums were primarily constructed for the internment of female benefactors who possibly belonged to nobility – however, the first tomb houses six graves and the second houses three and there is no way of ascertaining whether the personages buried underneath are feminine or masculine since all the graves have been restored and re-plastered over thereby eradicating any identifications/inscriptions that were originally engraved on them.

Chor Minar and Kharera Wall ruins –

Coordinates: 28°32'51.7"N 77°12'20.3"E and 28°33'07.1"N 77°12'18.2"E respectively
In the midst of residential quarters and bungalows on the other side of the village, past the enclosing walls of the medieval village Kharera which are the last of their kind since most of the fortifications and periphery walls that surrounded such villages and settlements were demolished at the obnoxiously avaricious altar of burgeoning urbanization and relentless commercialization, encircled by a small square garden lined with pomegranate and khejdi (Prosopis cineraria) trees, sits the city’s most macabre, supposedly haunted, monument – “Chor Minar” or “Tower of Thieves” is a tapering cylindrical edifice arising from a high rubble platform and possessing along its surface 225 holes through which once protruded sharp spears used to pierce and display the decapitated heads of thieves and other criminal offenders. Said to have been commissioned and employed by the fierce Sultan Alauddin Khilji (reign AD 1296-1316), the structure would have once lain along the peripheries of the 13th-14th century settlement “Tarapur” (“City of Joy”) and thus served to remind the inhabitants and caravan travelers entering the city of the Sultan’s preferred mode of delivering justice.

A monument to the morbid - Chor Minar

It is also conjectured that in order to prevent them from joining their brethren from central Asia in mounting a full-fledged invasion on the citadel, the Sultan here displayed the heads of brutally massacred Mongol citizens (“New Muslims”) who had adopted the city as their home and converted to Islam. Of course, the relentless Mongols did nonetheless attack Delhi in the hope of plunder and pillage only to be contemptibly defeated and rightly butchered – the Sultan raised his new fortress Siri on a purportedly auspicious foundation of their severed heads (refer Pixelated Memories - Siri Fort ruins). It is said that when the number of beheadings exceeded the count of holes, for instance during times of war or increased cases of crime in the domain, the Sultan would decree that only the heads of the more notable of criminals be displayed on the tower and the rest be stacked near it like a gruesome blood-dripping, soul-curdling pyramid! Sadly though, today very few of the city’s inhabitants know the place’s gory history and even fewer venture to visit it. Unconversant with the morbid tales that hang around the air here, locals use the small, well-shaded garden for evening strolls and gardeners and laborers employed around doze off in the corners during scorching summer days. Instead of the decapitated heads grinning their lopsided, post-death grins, pigeons and crows peep through the numerous holes and squirrels cavort around its large platform.

Thus comes to end a midsummer day’s exploration of death and macabre in the heart of one of Delhi’s most expensive and colorful locations. Hauz Khas does have several additional monuments and ruins to offer as well, several of them deserving individualistic articles for themselves on account of their exemplar detailed artworks or architectural features – fodder for future posts!

Fitted seamlessly - Kharera village fortifications and an air conditioning unit

Nearest Bus stop: Hauz Khas on Aurobindo Marg
Nearest Metro Station: Green Park (900 meters away)
How to reach: Walk from the metro station/bus stop - Dadi-Poti ka Gumbad exist on the very intersection of  Aurobindo Marg (on which the bus stop and metro station are located) and HKV Road leading to the restaurants, gastropubs and larger monuments of Hauz Khas. The rest of the monuments are located along HKV Road on a straight line from Dadi-Poti ka Gumbad. Chor Minar and Kharera fortifications are located on the other side of Aurobindo Marg and one can ask locals for directions to them - Chor Minar is a fairly famous park/traffic turnaround.
Entrance fees: Nil
Photography/Video charges: Nil
Time required for sightseeing: 20-30 min per monument
Suggested reading -
Other monuments located in the vicinity - 

1. Pixelated Memories - Bagh-i-Alam ka Gumbad (Deer Park)
2. Pixelated Memories - Deer Park
3. Pixelated Memories - Hauz Khas complex
4. Pixelated Memories - Kali Gumti (Deer Park)
5. Pixelated Memories - Nili/Neeli Masjid
6. Pixelated Memories - Tohfewala Gumbad (Deer Park)

Other trails in the city - 

1. Pixelated Memories - Lodi Road - Jawahar Lal Nehru Stadium Trail
2. Pixelated Memories - R.K. Puram Trail
3. Pixelated Memories - South Ex. Trail

Hoysaleswara Temple complex, Halebidu, Karnataka

“They say the past is etched in stone, but it isn’t. It’s smoke trapped in a closed room – swirling, changing, buffeted by the passing of years and wishful thinking. But even though our perception of it changes, one thing remains constant – the past can never be completely erased, it lingers like the scent of burning wood.”

– Marvel Comics, “Daredevil”

The state of Karnataka is endowed with some of the most scenic landscapes that the country possesses – dotted as far as the eye travels with clusters of plentiful coconut trees bent heavy with fruit, lush fertile green fields yielding bountiful harvests magnanimously sprinkled with massive medieval shrines transformed into exemplars of an otherworldly pursuit of architectural and artistic brilliance that the emperors who commissioned and the sculptors who constructed these indulged in, the entirety ringed by vibrant blue mystic mountains surmounted occasionally with rows of captivating white windmills as if mankind is continuously striving to complement the unparalleled tranquility benevolently bestowed on the beautiful state by the grace of nature. An unsurpassed epitome of this relentless quest of mankind to reproduce the designs of nature in the fabric of human (and therefore fallible) art and architecture, the Hoysaleswara Temple at Halebidu is dedicated to Lord Shiva, the Hindu God of death and destruction, and was commissioned by some of the wealthiest members of the city’s aristocratic and mercantile classes, prominent amongst them Dandanayaka Ketamalla (the commissioner of police) and Kesarasetti, during the glorious reign of Emperor Bittideva Vishnuvardhana (ruled AD 1108-52) who had only a couple of years earlier initiated the construction of an architecturally similar and likewise artistically superior shrine dedicated to Lord Vishnu, the Hindu God of life and nourishment, in the neighboring serene township of Belur (refer Pixelated Memories - Sri Chennakesava Temple complex).

Poetry in stone (V2.0) - Hoysaleswara Temple

Notwithstanding the fact that Halebidu’s magnificent past has been ingloriously forgotten and it presently merely survives as a mediocre, densely cultivated village within the frontiers of the nondescript district of Hassan, the temple reflects on the city’s unmatched ancient cultural and architectural heritage as well as its enviable position as “Dwarasamudra/Dorasamudra”, the original capital of the formidable Hoysala Dynasty which reigned from AD 1026-1343 over most of Karnataka and parts of Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh and embossed throughout their vast territory an unmistakably visually prominent legacy of several excellent, exceedingly ornamented shrines. Not unlike the rest of Dwarasamudra, the architecturally outstanding temple, constructed over AD 1120-60 and christened “Lord of the Hoysalas” after Emperor Vishnuvardhan’s royal title, was also abandoned and relinquished to relentless wilderness and ruinous desolation during the reign of Emperor Veera Ballala III (ruled AD 1292-1343) following internal strife between members of the royal family and numerous plundering raids by fiercely fanatical-iconoclast Muslim armies led by Malik Kafur, the ferociously barbaric eunuch General of Sultan Alauddin Khilji (reign AD 1296-1316) of Delhi Sultanate. Thereafter, Veera Ballala III fled to the state of Tamil Nadu and Dwarasamudra was rechristened “Halebidu” or “Old City”.

Divinity arrayed!

The bewilderingly majestic temple building, seated on its enormous 5-feet high star-shaped platform (“jagati”), externally follows the sculptural artistic style idealized by its slightly older sibling at Belur and yet at the very first visual impression, one can undeniably state that its exceedingly ornamented facade and the sheer variety of artworks encompassed therein are not imitation, but further evolution of the latter – and although overall the angles and the protruding corners appear less distinctly pronounced and thoroughly simplistic, it is the noticeable emphasis on miniaturization and detailing that is the most noteworthy. The entire superstructure is composed of dark-green/blue-black hued chloritic schist (soapstone) which is extremely easy to chisel into ornately detailed patterns in its original form but transforms to tremendously resilient, unmalleable stone once exposed to the elements for years. One unquestionably perceives that the engrossingly committed Hoysala sculptor-craftsmen might have believed that even a layman visitor will comprehend each and every mythological tale etched in stone and reflect unyielding attention not only on the individualistic sculpture of each deity and mythical entity, but also on their bejeweled ornaments and composite physical traits – thus the unrelenting emphasis on even the minutest of details, the slightest of illustration of movement and the simplest of physical features, even when the sculpture is merely a fraction of an immensely massive panel portraying over a dozen divine beings and anthropomorphic mythological deities.

Sculptural extravaganza!

Furthermore, the extraordinarily accomplished artists did not merely restrict themselves to the artworks and ornamentation introduced by their counterparts painstakingly building the shrine at Belur, but unequivocally took their craft to an unparalleled zenith by introducing several decorative elements and depictions of sculptures, mythological tales and mythical folklores that are absent in the latter – thus there are representations of Goddess Kali, the unruly manifestation of primordial feminine energy who reigns supreme over sexual acts and inclinations and death and destruction; Goddess Saraswati, the patron of arts, music, learning and knowledge; Lord Kartikeya, the young and formidable General of the mighty celestial armies; Lord Krishna (aka “Govardhana Girdhari” or “The Lifter of Mount Govardhana”), the ostentatious playboy-strategist-statesman-cow herder-warrior-philosopher who supposedly lived some 5,000 years ago and is regarded as an incarnation of Lord Vishnu, physically lifting the mountain Govardhana to shield the inhabitants of his domain from a merciless hammering of fierce hailstorms invoked by indomitable demon lords. This in addition to the ubiquitous sculptural illustration of other deities, most prominently of course Lord Shiva and Lord Vishnu and their varied incarnations and aspects – the anthropomorphic, boar-faced mighty Varaha lifting the Earth Goddess Bhudevi from the sea of ether after defeating the demons who had imprisoned her; the terribly fierce and unimaginably powerful semi-lion, semi-human Narasimha furiously tearing apart the body of the demon Hiranyakashyipu; the benevolent, boon-bestowing, omniscient aspect of Lord Shiva flanked by his wife Parvati; the winged, muscular, multi-armed falcon-faced bird deity Garuda; the ten-faced, twenty-armed intellectual demon King Ravana of Lanka attempting to physically lift the massive Kailasha mountain, the abode of Lord Shiva; the supremely gifted archer-warlord Arjuna; the ten-armed Goddess Durga, a fierce manifestation of primordial feminine energy, piercing the body of buffalo-demon Mahishasura with her intimidatingly long trident; Lord Shiva furnishing his terrific trident and celestial drum and indulging in “Tandava” (the destructive dance of universal obliteration); “Gajasurasamhara”/“Gajacharmambaradhari”, that portrays a sixteen-armed combative depiction of Lord Shiva wielding numerous weapons of death and devastation while dancing blissfully upon the decapitated head of the slain elephant-demon Gajasura whose flayed hide he triumphantly raises and brandishes as an enormous cloak while his family and followers gaze wide-eyed terrified and deferential.

"Gajasurasamhara" - The ecstasy of a triumphant God (V2.0)

Exquisitely evocative is the intricate depiction of foliage of numerous varieties abounding on the immensity that is Govardhana mountain (so lavish is the sculptural treatment showered by the craftsmen that even the slightest of details – crowns of bananas dangling from trees, monkeys climbing the shrubbery and the snakes slithering around – can be observed in fantastic vivacity!), and yet my unquestionable favorite remains “Gajasurasamhara”, especially considering that here Lord Shiva is not revealed with his celestial followers and devotees but surrounded by extensive slithering snakes and horrific undead corpses with ghastly emaciated faces and protruding ribs worshipping him with drums and cymbals! Unbelievably, the impeccably flawless shrine envisages an enthralling profusion of exemplar ornamentation and an outstanding variety not only in the splendid array of larger sculptures that lines its exterior surface barely below the roof delineation, but also in the tiniest of the fantastical rows of creatures that mark its colossal base – counting vertically upwards from the base are fashioned eight individualistic horizontal layers respectively composed of charging elephants, fearsome lions, mounted horses, mythical “Makara” (entities possessing the body of a fish, the face and tusks of an elephant, the limbs of a lion and the tail of a peacock) and beautiful swans respectively symbolizing insurmountable stability, formidable strength, matchless agility, unchallenged might and elegant grace, punctuated by floral scrolls of foliage and creepers and miniaturized discontinuous depictions of tales from the epics Ramayana, Mahabharata and the various Puranas, followed eventually with an extravagant flourish of hundreds of smaller, inconsequential crafted deities, celestial dancers and divine devotees.

Breathtaking!

The exquisite artworks and the years of toil that must have gone into their execution also give credence to the unforeseen span of time – nearly 86 years – involved in the shrine’s completion – however, for some inexplicable reason not documented in contemporaneous historic records, it is said that several portions of the shrine were never consecrated or even completed even though Emperor Vishnuvardhana’s successors Narasimha I (reign AD 1152-73) and Veer Ballala II (reign AD 1173-1220) had their chief architects embellish it with additional layers of ornamentation and sculptural artwork. As with the Sri Chennakesava Temple at Belur, the multitudes of sculptures and scroll work here too lend testimony to the incomparable skill of the architects and artists who were themselves so impressed and overjoyed by their own creations that they disregarded ancient Hindu architectural customs that prohibit artists and sculptors from signing their work – thus come to light the names, sovereign-bestowed titles and places of origin, but not the achievements and lives, of Kalidasa, Ketana, Ballana, Harisha, Damoja and Revoja.

But the vivid blossoming of poetry in stone does not cease here – the massive doorjambs that grace the spectacular facades mutate into an intricately convoluted sculptural rococo depicting Lord Shiva wielding weapons in his ten arms and dancing ecstatically to the tune of the celestial musicians flanking him amidst an eye-opening visual composition of sophisticated floral scrollwork and wave flourishes bearing as their apex the vicious jaws of a “Kirtimukha” (the ferociously wide fanged, lion-like face of an all-consuming demon conceived and originated out of thin air by Lord Shiva to destroy other, mightier demons) and eventually culminating in an elephantine mythical “Makara” on either side of the lintel whose skin and tail too transform into a sophisticated embellishment of foliage and elaborate artwork.

Hoysala ornamentation - Epitome of miniaturization art

The most spellbindingly realistic and artistically evocative statues are however those of the celestial guards that flank the entrances – draped with extremely fine jewelry and headgear that one would have been hard pressed to even be able to carve in soap and yet those tremendously skilled sculptors of yore crafted in stone, the divine figures, bearing tridents and drums wrapped with layers upon layers of writhing snakes and serpentine foliage not very differential from each other, are embossed upon layers of elaborate foliage and geometric patterns once more culminating into fierce Kirtimukhas, miniature Makaras and horrendous skulls. And yet, while one reflects upon the explosive bursts of artistic confidence and cultural development that prompted the sculptors to enthrallingly conceive and dexterously shape the extensively detailed nature of the ornate jewelry and celestial weaponry, one cannot fail to register explicable disappointment, in fact even sorrow, at witnessing that most of these otherworldly figurines were brutally disfigured and dismantled by the iconoclast Muslim soldiers led by the pitiless Malik Kafur – it is at once a discovery of ancient Hindu imperial magnificence and bourgeois grandeur and also of the cruelest of illusions that the unrelenting passage of the sands of time could wreak on unsuspecting humans – the illusion originating from hope, from belief, that even though we might wither and die and decay, our mere creations, be they sculptures carved in perennial stone or words in timeless literature, will survive the ravages of time and the exploitation and imprudence of fellow individuals.

Those sculptors, these details!

Somehow, standing there, gazing rapturously at the surrealistic filigree of stone adornments and shrubbery, I began to feel grievously ashamed about belonging to the ancient city of Delhi, whose remarkable achievements in the spheres of art and architecture I often profoundly and poignantly termed as notable enough to be classified as amongst those that can be termed as the pinnacle of civilizational heritage – after all, could not those soldiers, those seekers of worldly plunder, timeless fame and religious redemption, sense the intricacy of the stone jewels that I was looking at? Could they not visualize the sweat and labor of the sculptors who meticulously and laboriously toiled on crafting these? Could they not notice the enchanting textures, the ethereal impressions imbibed in stone by those expert craftsmen hopeful of being remembered through their hypnotizing creations, if not their mortal names and meager origins? How could they have failed to be mesmerized?

“Blessed are the braggart, the bully, the brute for it is the thoughtless thug – the nithing – and not the pitiful, picked-upon, penniless poor or the cursed and curmudgeoned mean and meek who shall surely stand to inherit the earth.”

– Stephen Edden, “The Wordsmith’s Tale"

Interestingly though, possibly a consequence of the aforementioned Islamic invasions, the elegantly sculpted smaller shrines (“Bhumija”) that are surmounted by pyramidal spires and border the wide staircases and were supposed to be studded with thoroughly carved and polished figurines are devoid of the same – ditto for the minor shrines and alcoves that line the interiors.

Here myths come alive!

The enchanting superstructure is divided internally into two exactly identical, parallel square sanctums located along the extremities, each facing east and accessible by a set of two entrances set perpendicular to each other along the corners of the adjacent sides such that the western side of the enormous temple delineating the rear of the twin sanctums is entirely devoid of any openings. The interiors are illuminated only by minute streams of sunlight tracing their way in through the formidably set entrances or the numerous square openings of the highly symmetrical stone lattice screens. The darkness further accentuates the forbiddingly straight vertical and horizontal lines that define the numerous deftly designed stone pillars and smaller shrines that support the immensely heavy roof, but it also succeeds in blurring the methodically detailed nature of the delicately carved stone roofs that grace the square hallways preceding the two sanctums and the exceedingly long and straightforward walkway connecting the two. The extensively conceived roofs of the large square hallways are supported upon tantalizing pillars passionately decorated with ornate strings of sculpted trinkets and meshwork patterns and culminating into lithe arched lion figurines supporting upon their heads brackets inset with voluptuous, finely proportioned celestial damsels crafted to perfection – referred to as “Madanika” or “Shilabalika” or “Salabhanjika” (literally translating to “breaking a Sala tree (Shorea robusta) branch”), each of the heavenly maidens, attired in fine thin draperies that barely cover their large breasts and hips, is adorned with jewels and ornaments and surrounded by followers and highly intricate foliage – sadly however, most of these were destroyed by the Islamic plunderers-pillagers and none survives in its entirety without its facial features disfigured with chisels and hammers and its limbs dismantled. Similar amorous figurines that gracefully existed within the telltale brackets fitted along the exterior walls have disappeared in their entirety, in all probability demolished and crushed irretrievably to bits and pieces.

Lines!

One might be forgiven for believing that the discerning sculptors forgot to incorporate the unmistakable, renowned emblems of the Hoysala Dynasty – a young man battling a huge aggressive lion (some say a tiger) either with his bare hands or with a sharp-edged sword – but the insignia is nonetheless reinforced here as well, not constructed as massive sculptures defining exterior adornments, but once more as miniature, more complexly visualized panels inset along the bases of the smaller shrines lining the interiors and composed of a single piece of stone sculpted pattern-wise into layers depicting numerous mounted lions being engaged in dreadful mortal combat by a sword-wielding regal warrior. Legend goes that the dynasty’s mythical progenitor, Sala, was indulging in ritualistic ceremonies with his Jain monk Guru Sudatta Muni when a fierce lion (or tiger) pounced upon them prompting the terrified mendicant to pronounce “Hoy, Sala!” (“Strike, Sala!”) and later, following the gruesome battle and the slaying of the lion (or tiger), blessing the courageous disciple with vast territorial sovereignty that would soon flourish. Most architectural historians and wildlife experts however doubt that lions ever existed in this part of the country and that might explain the ill-conceived stone figurines that mark Hoysala temple complexes for they might have been envisioned by the otherwise superiorly talented artists on the features of tigers that are still abundant here. Other historians also point out that this mythical tale and its sculptural depiction gained credence following Emperor Vishnuvardhana’s vanquishing of the Chola armies from his territories and the lion in the sculptures is probably symbolically representative of the Chola insignia.

Yet another corner!!

The twin shrines, christened “Hoysaleswara” and “Shantaleswara” after Emperor Vishnuvardhana and his ethereally beautiful Queen Shantala Devi, too are adorned with resplendently ornate divine guards crafted from lustrous black granite and massive astonishingly impressive doorjambs – both house a single, substantially large “Shiva linga”, the universal, terribly simplistic rounded-pillar representation of Lord Shiva, unbelievably austere and barely encircled with a few garlands of vibrant fragrant flowers. It is said that both the sanctums were originally surmounted by enormous pyramidal spires that spatially followed the stellar pattern established by the shrine’s numerous angles and projections – however neither of the two towers have survived the vagaries of time and nature and can now barely be envisioned as imaginations drawn upon from similar towers that crown analogous exemplars of magnificent Hoysala architecture throughout the vast land of Karnataka. It is compelling to notice how the relatively straightforward interiors were transformed into an artistic extravaganza along the exteriors by matchlessly accomplished sculptors and consummate craftsmen through the employment of numerous angles and recesses in cohesion with hundreds of thousands of sculptural curves and miniaturization art in collaboration with an unequalled understanding of light and shadow play.

Kali - Primordial destructive feminine energy incarnate

On the eastern front outside the temple, facing each sanctum and sharing the enormous plinth with the temple structure, is a gigantic pavilion composed of flawless lathe-turned pillars (that is, they weren't sculpted by hand, but the roughly crafted pillar was mounted on a wheel and rotated so that its edges sweeped against a fixed blade/chisel that smoothly shaped its surface) and flanked by equally passionately conceived and manufactured smaller shrines – visually enchantingly, both the pavilions house imposing monolithic statues of the bull Nandi, the mount of Lord Shiva and a patron of spirituality and religious dedication, however the pavilion opposite the Hoysaleswara sanctum is considerably larger than the one opposite the Shantaleswara sanctum and also possesses towards its rear a small, minimally illuminated hallowed shrine dedicated to a 7-feet tall representation of Lord Surya, the Sun God. The narrow base supporting the heavyweight pillars along the rear side of each of the pavilion is decorated with a single row of substantially smaller sculptures and representations of deities very nearly identical to the superior ones that grace the temple building’s exterior walls.

The Bull

Like several other medieval temple complexes scattered throughout Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, the Hoysaleswara Temple too was used to record inscriptions and legends commemorating military victories, religious conversions and heroic deeds – towards the rear of the majestic temple, one such inscription is emblazoned on a short cylindrical pillar embossed with figurines of soldiers severing their own necks with knives – dedicated to the elite personal bodyguards of Emperor Veer Ballala II, the pillar honors the memory of Kuruva Lakshma who was a dedicated “Garuda” (nomenclature derived from the mythological falcon-faced bird deity Garuda, the steed of Lord Vishnu) – valorous soldiers who followed their master like an ever-present shadow, protected him from all unforeseen threatening eventualities and committed suicide upon his demise, natural or otherwise. Kuruva Lakshma is said to have sacrificed not only his own life, but also that of his wife, family and associate officers – and was thus privileged with this celebrated monument, also locally referred to as a “Garuda Stambha” or “Garuda’s Column”. The inscription reads –

“No one before has set such a gallant example as King Ballala's great minister.”

Commemorative

What is however most heartwarming is that the shrine is surrounded by immense, neatly manicured lawns lined with rows of enormous, wide-canopied trees and flowering bushes and carpeted with vibrant green grass that appears to sparkle against the deep blue-black overcast sky. As mentioned in the previous post, the Bangalore (Bengaluru) circle of the Karnataka division of the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) has undertaken commendable restoration and conservation efforts for the maintenance and preservation of these magnificent ancient temples. Sprinkled occasionally throughout the landscaped lawns are archaeological finds such as enormous sculptures and engraved inscriptions – while some, like a massive monolithic insignia of the Hoysala sovereignty, a lavishly detailed 8-feet high statue of Lord Ganesha (the Hindu God of auspiciousness and beginnings) and an 18-feet high statue of Jain Tirthankara Mahavira are placed thoughtfully towards the rear of the shrine, others are scattered around or left inclined and grass-shrouded as if waiting to be discovered by visitors and devotees. Towards the rear side of the aforementioned elegant Nandi pavilions is mounted another smaller, similarly oriented but more gracefully carved sculpture of the bull Nandi, seated on a high pedestal and surrounded by a ring of red-hued shrubbery. In another corner is being managed a small archaeological museum dedicated to the display of hundreds of inscriptions, engraved memorials and smaller, individualistic sculptures discovered in the surrounding areas.

Discovery!

Despite its near-forested appearance and unmentionably tranquil ambience, Halebidu, like the rest of the hundreds of thousands villages scattered throughout the Indian subcontinent hides in its ancient bosom grand ambitions – peppering the landscape are numerous massive electricity pylons towering immensely high as if attempting, Atlas-like, to support the enormity of dark, rain-bearing black-purple clouds against which sparklingly contrast the flawless white windmills that, seated dominantly on their hill thrones, pierce the skyline like colossal extraterrestrial beings stepping around on their spindly tripods. Head closer towards Hassan and the brightly painted red advertisements of “Airtel” and “Apple Plywood” give way to violet banners of “Byju’s CAT coaching classes” and printed A4-sized posters for “Paying Guest Accommodation for Boys/Girls”. Yet, the general pace of life is unmistakably slow, the manner of doing business laid back like the gait of old men who traverse its numerous bazaars and teashops. Where not dug up into gargantuan craters by bulldozers persistently mining sand for construction, the abundantly fertile, grass-blanketed base of the dried up Dwarasamudra Lake behind the temple’s peripheries doubles up as grazing grounds for scrawny cows, long-horned buffaloes and hundreds of goats. The often inexistential roads that connect Hassan to Halebidu are characterized by their progressively undulating surface and transform into narrow, one-way strips of levelled ground in numerous, unbelievably long stretches where buses, I joke not, literally bounce and spring across the pockmarked surface like roller coaster rides. One cannot help but feel that the village is literally considering whether to sluggishly progress to a dazzling future or continue to exist in the shadow of its former glory. Wonder what would the Hoysala sovereigns be contemplating about this existential dilemma of their erstwhile impressive capital?

A horde of tales and myths! - Halebidu Archaeological Museum

Location: Immediately opposite Halebidu bus stop, Hassan district
Open: The temple complex remains open on all days except Friday from 7 am – 5 pm for people of all faiths, belief systems and genders.
How to reach: Hassan is accessible from different parts of Karnataka by regular KSRTC bus and Indian Railways train services. It is approximately 180 kilometers or five hours away by road from Bangalore. From Hassan, Halebidu is located about 32 kilometers or roughly one hour away by bus at the end of a journey that does take one on certain thoroughly pockmarked stretches of road winding through hill-flanked barren plains and fields. The bus service between Hassan and Halebidu is however not very regular and one might occasionally have to wait up to 30 minutes.
Entrance fees: Nil
Entrance fees for the museum: Indians: Rs 5; Foreigners: Rs 100 (Free entry for children up to 15 years of age)
Photography/Video charges: Nil
Time required for sightseeing: 3 hrs
Remarks – Footwear is not allowed inside the temple complex and shoes can be left at a makeshift counter near the staircase and retrieved afterwards following the payment of a modest sum (usually Rs 10 for two pairs of footwear).
Relevant Links - 
Another Hoysala temple in Hassan - Pixelated Memories - Sri Chennakesava Temple complex
Suggested reading - Whc.unesco.org - Sacred Ensembles of the Hoysala

Hauz Khas Complex, New Delhi

Though he himself was an illiterate man with unabashed contempt for learning & arts, Alauddin Khilji, Sultan of India from 1296-1316 AD, took it upon himself to convert Delhi into a citadel of intellect & craftsmanship, hiring over 30,000 builders & artists, patronizing 47 of the most gifted men of his time in his court & enabling the acquisition of knowledge & skill from neighboring nations. His work force of builders could raise a fortress in 2-3 days flat!! (I think that is quite exaggerated, but then 30,000 is no small number either). Among his court nobles were the notable poets Amir Khusroe & Amir Hassan, the historians Kabir-ud-din & Amir Arsalan & the theologians Ruknuddin & Qazi Mughlis-ud-din. He was also a devotee of Nizamuddin Auliya, the patron saint of Delhi. Despite these qualities, Alauddin was by heart a military warlord & a clever strategist, who built his city Siri on the lopped-off heads of over 8,000 Mongols who dared attack his capital (read more here - Pixelated Memories - Siri Fort Remains). He consolidated his empire at a time when almost the whole of Asia was reeling under frequent Mongol attacks & raids, he invited talent from the furthest confines of Asia & Africa, turned his court into a refuge of the learned & the talented. It is thus a fitting tribute to Alauddin, the patron of the learned, that Feroz Shah Tughlaq (ruled AD 1351-88), the master builder-architect Sultan of Delhi, constructed a magnificent center of learning next to the hauz (“hauz” is “water tank” in Persian) commissioned by Alauddin to provide water to his subjects residing in Siri. Alauddin had this tank (dimensions 600 X 700 X 4 meter cube) dug up to collect rainwater when his city was being built & christened it Hauz-i-Alai, but over the years the tank had become silted due to lack of maintenance & neglect. An acute water shortage forced Feroz to build a new citadel at Ferozabad at the bank of river Yamuna & he also had the Hauz-i-Alai tank de-silted & repaired. Following this, he undertook extensive construction activity in the area around the tank. Feroz always liked building things, he would build fortresses & hunting lodges, establish cities, repair mosques, tombs & minarets – he left his mark everywhere he visited in the form of sturdy structures crafted with impeccable artistry & fine taste. He too showed a great zeal for the cause of education & it was in his time that “the capital of Delhi, by the presence of unrivalled men of great talents had become the envy of Baghdad, the rival of Cairo & the equal of Constantinople” (Zia-ud-din Barani, traveler-historian).

Alauddin's Tank, now much reduced in size

The newly renovated tank was christened “Hauz Khas” (“Royal Tank”) & Feroz Tughlaq’s double-storied madrasa (institute of Islamic learning) came up next it in AD 1352. Its architects were Malik Ghazi Shahna & Abdul Haq. The large, architecturally impressive madrasa built of rubble was christened Madrasa-i-Feroz Shahi & went on to become one of the foremost institutions of learning in the world. Learned men, theologians & teachers would come from within the country & abroad to the madrasa, large-scale seminars were organized regularly, the esteemed students would learn various subjects including arts, theology, history, philosophy, calligraphy & mathematics. The madrasa had an associated mosque for use by the students, teachers & visitors – though not as large as the mosque Feroz had built in his citadel of Ferozabad/Feroz Shah Kotla (refer Pixelated Memories - Kotla Feroz Shah), it certainly looks distinguished even now despite being in a ruinous state for several centuries. The madrasa was well-funded & well-equipped, its first Director was Jalal-ud-din Rumi, himself a very learned & renowned man. Though now in ruins, the madrasa was originally covered with plaster & brilliant stucco work, the walls were painted in bright colors like red, the domes were painted golden. The vibrant colors were reflected by the water of the tank & the overall effect was that of striking brilliance. The rooms of the madrasa used to be covered with fine Persian rugs, the doors were of sandalwood. Gardens filled with flowering plants & fruit-bearing trees surrounded the complex. Alauddin’s tank was the site where Feroz’s predecessors Ghiyasuddin Tughlaq & Muhammad Juna Tughlaq encamped when they fought against & seized Delhi from Khusrau Khan in AD 1320. Feroz’s madrasa-tank complex became the site where the Mongol invader Timur encamped when he sacked Delhi in AD 1398. Even Timur sings paeans to the glory & affluence of the madrasa & its surrounding village Tarapur (literally "The Abode of Happiness").

Past the streets of the upcoming Hauz Khas Village, lined with high-end boutiques, eateries, coffee houses & showrooms that sell everything from cars to home décor, often hailed as the arrival of Delhi on the stage of luxurious living & Bohemian culture, the entry to the historic site of the madrasa is through a rubble arch that comes as a surprise at the end of the narrow lane teeming with cigarette-smoking youngsters, short skirt wearing girls, English-speaking men & women who would drive a hard bargain unmindful of the wads of cash they carry in their pockets (the place is still referred to as a “Village”, mind you!!). Oh & BMWs zip past kids whose protruding rib bones would put any pulchritudinous model to shame. Perhaps the absence of a ticket counter too contributes to this feeling of surprise. Behind the façade of glamour & wealth, the centuries-old secluded madrasa nestled in a quaint little complex, a symbol of man’s eternal quest for knowledge & education, suddenly finds itself transported into an era where modern-day students throng to its hallowed grounds not for world-class education, but to make out & find an escape from the oppressive burden of socializing & maintaining modesty.

In through the arched entrance, one arrives straight into a small garden, landscaped with grass, dotted with a few tombs - everything cramped into a small area & hemmed in on three of its sides by residential apartments & showrooms. The fourth side overlooks the tank dug up by Alauddin, which even though it has been greatly reduced in its size as a result of the demands of an ever-expanding urban Delhi, is still a vast body of water flanked by lush greens where the ducks waddle by quickly, perhaps afraid that their quacks would disturb your contemplation. The whole tank, visible from the entrance, comes as a surprise to hardcore Delhiites like me who have a hard time imagining a large lake & green lands in the center of Delhi. The larger part of the complex & the lake, including the madrasa’s huge entrances & the associated gardens, have been lost to encroachment, what survives is now being protected by the government by transforming it into a park-cum-tourist spot.

After the lake, the first thing one notices is a cluster of five pavilions, each unique in its own stead, located just across a railing opposite the entrance. Three of these Tughlaq-era pavilions are actually tombs, perhaps belonging to the teachers who taught in the madrasa, a fact that becomes clear as soon as one climbs into one of these pavilions & notices that a shallowly-marked grave rests in the center of the pavilion, merging seamlessly with its bottom. Most historians believe that the simplistic tombs were built in such a fashion to enable pupils to sit & study in the “presence” of their dear departed teachers. Wouldn’t the students be horrified, I wonder??! Of the three tombs, one is four-sided, another six-sided & the last eight-sided, each with a large, simple dome that rests on a drum (base) that is “2n” sided, n being the number of sides of the tomb. Both the roof of the tomb & the drum are decorated with kanguras (battlement-like projection that serve ornamentation purpose). Austere & unornamented, these tombs are charming in their own stead. One thing that they do seem to prove is that teachers are usually relegated to humble lives & simpler farewells in our society – both medieval & modern. The large, hemispherical dome rests on thick pillars & the overall picture is that of striking symmetry. On the inside, the domes have lost most of their ornamentation & are actually falling apart at the places, the only embossment still retained are the bands of calligraphy that mark the base of the dome. Even these bands are discontinuous. Pigeons & parrots – those wanderers whose favorite haunts are tombs & old monuments – nest in the holes in the dome.

The pavilion tombs & the cylindrical pavilion (right)

The other two pavilions are cylindrical in design & are not large enough to accommodate graves within. The purpose of these pavilions is not clear, however it has been argued that these were part of some of the larger structures of the madrasa, now lost, given the presence of heavy projecting stone beams attached to their dome drums. Several men sat in the cylindrical pavilion in the far of corner of the grassy patch, deep in discussion they were. I wondered if the students too would sit here in Tughlaq’s time, a cup of tea or sherbet in their hands, discussing concepts & exams like we now do in our college canteens.

After having photographed the pavilion-tombs I was in a bit dilemma – next to the pavilion-tombs stands the comparatively larger, slightly pinkish tomb of Feroz Shah Tughlaq & next to it stretches a portion of the magnificent madrasa, but on the others side of the entrance were more, smaller, domed pavilions that beckoned me with their colonnades. 

Feroz Shah Tughlaq's Tomb

I decided to see the colonnaded pavilions first as these were relatively smaller & could be photographed quickly. That & the presence of hot girls sitting in the shade of the pavilions!! This particular cluster of pavilions is made up of three interlinked domed-structures that form a T-shaped building, a dome mounted on each corner of the T. The pillared halls of the two arms of the T form a long arcade, the last side actually looks a bit out of place. The entire structure stands on a high platform, there is a small tank (now dry) at the base of the platform & the ruined remains of a staircase with large windows exists close by from where one can descend to the lower levels of the madrasa.

The three-domed pavilion

The roof of the T-cluster is supported by strong square pillars, after all the whole structure has existed for more than 650 years. Though the purpose of this building too is not known, it is conjectured that it was used as a seminar room when the classrooms of the madrasa fell short of accommodating all the students present. Some historians say the structure too housed graves, though none can be seen now. Obvious to all this, the structure is fairly famous with tourists & youngsters trying their hand at modeling & photography which can be gauged by the number of young boys & girls posing & photographing each other here. Interestingly, after the fall of the Tughlaq Dynasty following the death of Feroz in 1388 AD & subsequent raid on Delhi by Mongols led by Timur in 1398 AD, the structures fell in disuse & were used as residential accommodation by the population that settled in the complex.

Colonnades..

Next to the T-cluster are the remains of the in-house mosque of the madrasa that was used by the students & teachers residing here. Led to by a large, domed gateway, the open mosque consists of a Qibla wall (western wall of a mosque that indicates the direction of Mecca, faced by Muslims while praying) fixed with overhanging windows (“jharokhas”/wickets). The windows are unique to this mosque as elsewhere the Qibla/Mihrab walls are continuous structures with no openings & fairly rich in ornamentation & calligraphy. Sadly the gateway to the mosque is barred with iron railing, an ASI-installed board nearby details the mosque’s architectural features but nobody around knows or cares to know why entry to the mosque is disallowed. Perhaps the authorities did not want the couples who frequent the complex to make out in a mosque. A crumbling staircase next to the mosque leads to the lower level of the madrasa, from here one can have an unhindered view of the tank & the jharokhas that ornament the mosque. Small cells line one side of the alley, the other side, now in a totally run-down state, perhaps once had arched openings from where the resident students could enjoy the cold breeze & the whiff of food that would come wafting from around the tank. The cells are now taken up by couples searching for places to get cozy with each other.

The mosque as seen from the tank level

One can see the ducks & the pintails waddle around in the water below, a few capsized boats bob on the surface of the still water that is disturbed only by the ducks & not even ruffled by the wind. At the very end of the alley, one can climb down the stairs to reach the ground floor of the madrasa but the staircases are blocked by means of extremely sharp barbed wires. I tore my jeans trying to navigate myself on the ledge along the wire. Sad & frustrated, I walked back & climbed the stairs leading to the mosque & T-cluster. The small structure in front of the small tank near the T-cluster also does not lead down to the ground floor, though a dark & narrow, downward spiraling staircase leads to the first floor of the madrasa. At least from here the view of the other wing of the madrasa (perpendicular to this wing which consists of T-cluster & the mosque) with the pinkish-creamish tomb on one corner & a domed tower made of black-ish stone on the other is splendid.

The tombs & one of the wings of the madrasa

Back near the entrance, I head to Feroz’s tomb. I had never actually imagined that the Sultan of India would opt for such a simple resting place for himself. The square tomb, much larger than the rest, is a very simple structure, quite in line with Tughlaq-era structures that were known for their straight, fortified walls & battlement ornamentation. It forms a pivot to which the two perpendicular wings of the madrasa connect to (in effect, the madrasa is L-shaped) & looms above the rest of the structures. The tomb is built with quartzite rubble finished with plaster to give it a smooth, white appearance. The dome rests on an octagonal drum (base), the finial topping it is small & circular. Both the drum & the roof are detailed with a row of red sandstone kanguras (battlement-like ornamentation). Though not built in a defensive pattern, Feroz’s Tomb is only ornamented around the entrance & that too in a very dignified, somber manner – the entrance is set in a larger niche, a small jaali (stone latticework), calligraphic detail & medallions – that’s about it. Interestingly, the entrance is not arched, but trabeate in nature – stone ledges panning the distance between two ends – an architectural style that is very common in Hindu & Buddhist structures (the Muslims employed arches in their palaces, tombs & mosques). Even more interesting is the presence of a small courtyard marked by a stone railing which is reminiscent of Buddhist temples & viharas of that era. Feroz belonged to the line of Qaraunah Turks (as the Tughlaqs were known as) who prided themselves for being born from Hindu mothers & Turkish fathers & therefore “possessing both Hindu modest & Turkish virility”, he was the son of a Rajput Hindu mother, his prime minister Malik Maqbul Telangani was a convert from Hinduism & so was the architect Abdul Haq – perhaps all these factors had a role in influencing Feroz’s choice of a tomb built in Hindu-Buddhist pattern.

The emperor's tomb

Three steps led inside his Tomb, the interiors are vast & better decorated than the exteriors. Feroz’s grave lies in the center, on one side sleep his son & grandsons. In the corners, squinch arches are used to convert the square tomb’s roof into an eight-sided polygon so as to support the dome. This is again a step back in terms of architecture because by Feroz’s time, native Indian artists had mastered Islamic building techniques & knew how to build true arches & domes. Squinch arches were prevalent half a century before Feroz’s time during the reign of Sultan Shamsh-ud-din Iltutmish as is apparent from his tomb (refer Pixelated Memories - Iltutmish's Tomb). The dome rests on a band of calligraphy which further rests on another band with regular geometric patterns. It is marked with medallions in several sizes, each inscribed with calligraphy drawing upon the Quran & the Hadiths, arranged around two concentric stars with a large medallion for their center.

Quranic verses & Hadiths - Feroz's blanket

The particular verses inscribed on the medallions & the arches in Feroz’s tomb make their appearance as architectural additions for the first time here, they weren’t used as part of Sultanate architecture before. They are then seen in structures built during the reign of Sikandar Lodi (ruled AD 1489-1517), another sultan of Delhi who took an active interest in repairing structures built by previous sultans. It is now believed that it was Lodi who added these medallion embellishments to Feroz’s tomb when he had it repaired in the year 1507-08. Among these verses is one of my favorites, Quran Sura 109 –

"Say: O disbelievers!

I worship not that which ye worship; Nor worship ye that which I worship.

And I shall not worship that which ye worship. Nor will ye worship that which I worship.

Unto you your religion, and unto me my religion."

One of the domed entrances of the madrasa close to Feroz's Tomb

Next to Feroz’s Tomb is another domed structure that is part of the second wing of the madrasa & leads into it. Yet another domed chamber exists close to Feroz’s Tomb near the edge of the madrasa’s wing, this one however is barred by an iron door. Another portion of the madrasa, separated from the rest of the complex by a wall with a break for an entrance, has been converted into the office of the Archaeological Survey of India (A.S.I.), this is the only place in the complex where a water cooler dispensing cold water has been installed. This wing of the madrasa has several interconnected chambers & a number of overhanging windows (jharokhas) overlooking the tank – couples can be found sitting in these deep windows arm-in-arm, cooing into each other’s ears & glossing over their sweet dreams. This invasion of the medieval-structure by couples seems traumatic at first, tragic afterwards, acceptable later. Unmindful of the history of the structures or the scorching heat of Delhi’s summers, they would sit here in each other’s laps for hours. Some would also scratch their names on the walls, others resent the presence of photographers. An hour into the complex, one’s thoughts range from feeling sympathetic towards the couples who too need space to meet each other, hold hands & kiss, away from the eyes of unrelenting parents, gossiping relatives & those members of our society who proclaim themselves guardians of modesty & culture to feeling frustrated with them for looking at any history-loving &/or camera-toting person with distrust. Seriously, people if you want some privacy, get a room!!

Teeming with couples!!

The lower level of the madrasa can be reached by a staircase, the double colonnades here are in a better preserved condition, the pillars are all intact & so are the medallions. Most of the chambers on this level are only dimly illuminated by sunlight & the passageways that connect these chambers are totally dark. Consequentially, the passages are infested with bats & it is actually better to not make any noises when traversing these passages. The dark is so bad that you can’t even make where you are headed & might have a jolt or two when you encounter a step in the passage (It is better to pretend that the bats aren’t there, I was fine till someone pointed them out to me!!).

I found this pavilion tomb the most striking

After much asking around & consulting guards, I finally found a way to the tank. The route takes you out of the complex from the entrance you came in from, then across a series of shops in a narrow side lane that leads to more shops. At the end of these shops there is an even narrower lane that opens into a makeshift dump yard for electronic goods & construction material. The place has been marked as their territory by some of the best graffiti artists in Delhi – Daku, Iron Curtain, 156. Then guided by a few of the shopkeepers, I headed towards the right on another narrow lane that finally terminated into what looked like an entrance to a park (this point connects the nearby Deer Park to the Hauz Khas Park, I later found out. I shall be writing about the structures within Deer Park soon). Off a bridge, I finally reached the tank & saw the madrasa spread out in front of me.

Graffiti "Delhi style"

The lake is still, the partially submerged dead trees & capsized boats bob up & down. Ducks swim from one side to the other effortlessly. Colorful birds appear once in a while, only to disappear even quickly. Visitors to the complex, sitting in the large overhanging windows, glance down my way only to go back to their conversations & gossips. A few impoverished kids run around, unmindful of the history of the ruins that surround them. Ignorance they say is bliss. If the kids knew the stones they are playing with were laid on the orders of the sultan of the entire country, powerful enough to have their whole city destroyed & charred, would they still play here with the same enthusiasm??

Lucky to live alongside centuries-old heritage!!

A high & sharply inclined staircase can lead one up to the mosque, but the entrance from here too is barred by barbed wires. That did not deter some of our monument-spoilers to deface the mosque – they simply scribbled names & love letters on the exterior walls of the mosque. @$%^%^& (had a run in with some of those vandals at Deer Park too earlier that day, nasty creatures). On the other side, one can go around the madrasa & the black dome tower. The dome tower formed one of the original entries to the complex from the tank level, however now the staircases that led up are gone & the dome tower can only be reached by climbing through uneven land layered with thorny vegetation interspersed with glass shards from beer bottles. A small hovel exists close by & as with all slums, there are no sanitation facilities & the stink is simply gross. I did however climb through the slope & have photographs to prove it too. For those not so eager to see these structures from different sides, all entrances to the madrasa from the tank have been blocked, but one can go around the structures, sit on the tall grass, look at the ducks, feed them with tidbits, enjoy the cool breeze or simply contemplate how those boats in the tank capsized. The madrasa & the tombs present a magnificent picture, providing numerous point of views & different perspectives to a photographer’s delight. & while you are at it, don’t forget to check out the Munda Gumbad (“Bald Dome”), a double-storied structure that once was in the center of the tank but now stands away from it directly opposite Feroz’s Tomb but on the other side of the tank (thus giving us an estimate of the original size of the tank). I forgot that this structure exists too & will now have to go all the way to the complex (a good 2 hour journey by auto & metro from my home) just to see this one structure. But it would be worth it!!

Plan of the complex (Photo copyright - Anthony Welch)

The tank had dried up several years back as the sources that fed it were diverted for other uses. In 2005, Indian National Trust for Art & Cultural Heritage (INTACH) & Delhi Development Association (DDA) launched an extensive program to develop the lake again using treated sewage water. The program has been a huge success & now the water level of the tank is maintained constant with the aid of treated water & feed from nearby storm water drains. Several steps were also taken up to maintain the continuity of an active ecosystem around the lake including introduction of several fish species & regular cleaning of the tank to remove debris & decaying organic matter. The area around the complex was developed as a residential & commercial zone catering to the city’s wealthy. The market is one of the most expensive in all of Delhi & there are numerous art galleries, upscale boutiques, showrooms & restaurants.

Exquisite!! - A gift from Sultan Sikandar Lodi to Sultan Feroz Tughlaq

You have several options at your disposal once you are done with photographing monuments - visit one of the many eateries in the area & pleasure your taste buds, collect your thoughts sitting in one of the overhanging window of the madrasa (do this only if you can be cautious, there are no barricades to prevent you from falling), sit down near the tank with a cigarette (or a joint!!) between your fingers, or befriend some girls there like I did & let small talk relax you after a long day.

Open: 10 am – 6 pm
Nearest Metro Station: Green Park, however it’s quite a walk away (2.5 km) & it’s better to take an auto from the metro station.
How to reach: Take an auto or walk from the Green Park Metro Station. Ask the locals for directions. If going by car, keep in mind that parking inside the Hauz Khas “Village” is only allowed for the “villagers” & the rest have to park their cars at a parking lot near the village entrance.
Entrance fee: Nil
Photography/Video charges: Nil
Relevant Links -

1. Pixelated Memories - Amir Khusro & his Tomb
2. Pixelated Memories - Feroz Shah Kotla
3. Pixelated Memories - Hazrat Nizamuddin Dargah
4. Pixelated Memories - Iltutmish's Tomb
5. Pixelated Memories - Siri Fort Remains

Suggested Reading - 

1. Archnet.org - Download pdf document "A Medieval Center of Learning in India: The Hauz Khas Madrasa in Delhi" by Anthony Welch
2. Archnet.org - Hauz Khas Complex
3. Sarsonkekhet.in - Too close for comfort