Pixelated Memories: Bahadur Shah Zafar

Showing posts with label Bahadur Shah Zafar. Show all posts

November 27, 2015

Jahaz Mahal and Hauz-i-Shamsi, Mehrauli, Delhi

“Dilli jo ek sheher tha alam me intekhab, rehte the muntakhib hi jahan rozgaar ke

Jis ko falak ne loot ke veeran kar diya, Hum rehne wale hain usi ujde dayar ke”

“Delhi, that singularly celebrated city where lived only the remarkable few of their time

Fate has devastated and rendered it deserted, I belong to that very destroyed city.”

– Mir Taqi Mir, renowned Urdu poet (lived 1725-1810)

Jahaz Mahal - An enigmatic ship washed ashore

Despite the viciously bone-chilling, teeth-clattering cold they invoke, winters in Delhi, merciless in their extortion and cruelty, can occasionally be tremendously heartwarming (pardon the expression!) – the otherwise vibrant, perennially overcrowded landscape transmogrifies into a chillingly bleak and thoroughly deserted ghost city colonized by such impenetrably dense fog that early morning one cannot see the buildings across the road, conducive of course to steal a few quick smooches from one’s sweetheart as I have often been guilty of. The chance appearance of minute slivers of warm sunshine are merrily greeted by the entire neighborhood – the infirm elderly quickly rush out to catch up on the gossip, the effusively cheerful children skip and run about, the slightly older ones calmly settle down in the verandahs and balconies with books and earphones and, not to be left behind, the resourceful homemakers too instantaneously bring out the vegetables and fruits that they are to shred and dice and gleefully spend extra minutes bargaining and (often unnecessarily) scolding the “reri-wallahs” (fruit-vegetable sellers, recyclemen, garbage collectors, papad-wallahs and the likes), an ancient convention which they would have otherwise rudely interrupted to rush back into the mellow warmth of the house.

The irony, the religious hypocrisy! - Hauz Shamsi and the sandstone pavilion enshrined with Buraq's sacred hoofprint

Engaged in a losing skirmish with these infinitesimal rays of sunshine, the universally abhorred forces of impermeable fog hastily call a temporary retreat only to regroup and reappear later around dusk, in the meanwhile leaving behind only a few scattered wisps sentinel-like hanging about keeping eagle-eyed watches over the larger lakes and hyacinth-shrouded water bodies. No mist however hangs over Hauz-i-Shamsi – where there once was a huge artificial lake exclusively encircled by luxuriant pleasure pavilions, vibrant orchards and manicured gardens, today is an uneven crater bursting with stinking murky water capped with plastic garbage, rotten organic rubbish and human and animal excreta enclosed by a vast contour-less plain where can be spotted even more of this malodorous waste in addition to putrid animal carcasses and shards of beer bottles! Disappointingly, reality, in this case, does not even come close to holding a candle to mythical legends.

According to popular folklore, 1230 years following the crucifixion of Christ, two men dreamt the same lucid dream – the Prophet Muhammad, seated on Buraq, the celestial winged steed with a head that instantaneously transformed from that of a heavenly horse to a glorious woman and back, beckoned them to follow and thus quickly traversed several miles. Suddenly halting, the otherworldly Buraq kicked the ground with its muscular foreleg and immediately erupted there an immense fountain of sparkling clear water.

Not a drop to drink!

Now these two men could be any ordinary persons living anywhere, but they weren’t – they happened to be the legendary Chishti Sufi saint Hazrat Qutbuddin Bakhtiyar Kaki and Sultan-i-Azam Shamshuddin Waddin Abul Muzaffar Iltutmish (reign AD 1211-36), the emperor of Hindustan, and being incredibly pious men they decided that the formidable Sultan must set out with his entire immense retinue to determine if the dream was indeed prophetic. Intriguingly, some distance away from the regal citadel was discovered the hoof print of the mighty Buraq and thus resolved, the Sultan instantaneously issued a royal decree to commission an immense tank, christened “Hauz-i-Shamsi” (“Shamshuddin’s tank”), encompassing as its centerpiece a small domed pavilion conceived around the stone slab bearing the celestial hoof print thus preserved for posterity. Drinkable water supply then being terribly acute, the blessed water, besides being religiously venerated, was immediately drawn via terracotta canals and pipelines to supply the thriving residential enclaves within the medieval fortress of Qila Rai Pithora and later Tughlaqabad (refer Pixelated Memories - Qila Rai Pithora and Pixelated Memories - Tughlaqabad Fortress complex). Unbelievable now, considering the present insufferable levels of pollution!

Blues and reds

During the architecturally glorious reign of the Lodi Dynasty (AD 1451-1526), a magnificent floating pavilion accessible by a large causeway was constructed along the peripheries of the majestic tank divinely thus ordained and regally thus patronized – referred to as “Jahaz Mahal” (“Ship Pavilion”) on account of it being immediately reminiscent of an enormous ship gracefully floating on the brilliant blue waters underneath, the graceful retreat was envisaged as a transit accommodation (“serai”/inn) to serve devout pilgrims from central Asia and Europe arriving in Delhi to visit its numerous, devoutly worshiped Islamic shrines and accordingly is composed of numerous individual chambers tastefully designed and opulently adorned. Later it was repaired by the Sultans Alauddin Khilji (reign AD 1296-1316) and Feroz Shah Tughlaq (reign AD 1351-88) and was eventually refurbished to function as an ornamental pleasure pavilion for the last Mughal emperors Akbar Shah II (reign AD 1806-37) and Mirza Abu Sirajuddin Muhammad Bahadur Shah “Zafar” II (reign AD 1837-57).

Relics from an age long gone - A ruined chamber (mausoleum?) in the vicinity of Jahaz Mahal

Rendered visually imposing by the employment of massive square chattris (umbrella domes surmounted on slender pillars) and conical buttress corner towers, the gorgeous palatial edifice possesses a U-shaped layout arranged around a large central courtyard (where presently are organized the extravagant cultural and literary celebrations associated with the annual “Phoolwalon ki Sair” aka “Sair-i-Gulfaroshan” festival) and is much embellished with Persian glazed blue and white tiles, multi-patterned alcoves, numerous pointed arches, staggered cross-shaped decorative depressions and ornamental embossment facades. An odd octagonal chattri crowns the mihrab (western wall of a religious/funerary structure indicating the direction of Mecca, faced by Muslims while offering namaz prayers) distinguished by the fixation of white (now yellowish) tiles.

Long gone is the celebrated age when come monsoons the infinite expanse around the hallowed Hauz was rendered marvelously enthralling by flowering shrubs that would blossom overnight and hundreds of species of multi-hued butterflies romanced midair under the immense canopy of the crookedly gnarled branches of the massive trees peppering the entire verdant landscape; the earth reeked of the mesmerizing post-rain fragrance while good-naturedly querulous birds flitted from branch to another just as the hundreds of magical glittering glimmering dragonflies skimmed the surface of the numerous runoff-collecting tanks and natural water bodies; magnificently-plumed peacocks and spellbinding docile deer freely roamed about, defeated only in numbers by the gently-cooing pigeons and flawless white doves quietly making love against the vibrant red sandstone of the monuments that littered around. The lavish retinues, of Mughal emperors and British officials alike, would lugubriously encamp here and reverberate even till wee hours of the starlit mornings recounting tales of hunts past and phantoms and banshees, interspersed only by fierce drinking bouts and delightful musical and dance soirees set in rhythm with the heavenly descent of torrential rain and thunderous streaks of fearsome lightning.

Forgotten history? - An undocumented medieval mosque across the road from Jahaz Mahal

The sacred tank has been ignominiously reduced to less than a quarter of its original proportions and the preserved hoof print of the mythological Buraq too has been removed even though the twelve-pillared sandstone pavilion constructed to encompass it still exists buoyed in an ever-multiplying stream of foul-smelling garbage and excreta. Even the geographical continuity amongst the numerous medieval mosques and unusual mausoleums that mushroomed around the Hauz on account of its legendary sacredness has been ruthlessly shattered by malignant slum encroachment and extraordinarily ill-planned urban development – the Lal Masjid (“Red Mosque”) nearby, possibly a Lodi-era monument judging from its numerous ornamental features and architectural innovations including melon-like fluted corner towers and painstakingly embellished protruding central mihrab, has been redeveloped on all sides and converted into a grotesque multistoried brick-and-cement residential-cum-religious edifice, its singular domes and the slender minarets too waiting to be assimilated within this tasteless monstrosity but seemingly spared for the time being to herald its regal antiquity. Come to think of it, substitute the domed corner towers with low rectangular buildings and the wall mosque would almost visually resemble its cousin Madhi Masjid, distant both in terms of geographical separation and state of conservation and restoration (refer Pixelated Memories - Madhi Masjid).

Lost in a deluge of encroachments - Lal Masjid across the road from Jahaz Mahal

Another substantially huge medieval mosque, fitted with glass windows and iron grilles and alienated from the pleasure palace by a road stretched like an evil serpent between the two, has been entirely engulfed in an all-pervading deluge of encroachment and even the narrow mausoleums adjoining it have been bricked up and converted into makeshift residences!

“More than his (Sultan Iltutmish’s) wars or his conquests, it is with the water supply he has built for the people of Delhi that he has won his place in heaven!”

– Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya (lived AD 1238-1325)

Sultan Iltutmish, Hazrat Qutbuddin and Hazrat Nizamuddin have been long deceased and their mortal constructions and conceptions shall too follow soon, murdered by the so-called educated intellectuals and civic planners who have irredeemably failed to preserve traditional water management techniques while simultaneously failing to adopt to rapidly evolving climatic and geographical realities and pressures. Why still do the educationalists insist on reminiscing about baolis (step-wells), artificial tanks, bunds (embankments) and surakhs (water tunnels) in CBSE primary school textbooks is perplexingly incomprehensible!

Towering - A lone mausoleum adjoining the aforementioned undocumented medieval mosque

Location: Mehrauli village (Coordinates: 28°30'51.5"N 77°10'42.7"E)

Nearest Metro station: Both Qutb Minar and Chattarpur stations are approximately 1.5 kilometers away

Nearest Bus stop: Mehrauli terminal, approximately 1.2 kilometers away

How to reach: Walk/avail a rickshaw from the bus stop or walk/avail an auto from the metro stations. The locals can easily supply the requisite directions.
Entrance fees: Nil
Photography/Video charges: Nil
Time required for sightseeing: 45 min
Relevant links -
Other monuments/landmarks located in the vicinity -

Suggested reading -

July 10, 2014

Sawan–Bhadon Pavilions and Zafar Mahal, Red Fort complex, Delhi

This article is part of a series about Red Fort, Delhi. Refer Pixelated Memories – Red Fort complex for the composite post.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“The spirit of Delhi has always been staccato, and full of fractures.

The greatest period of stability came under the Mughals, a dynasty originally from central Asia, whose legendary wealth and magnificence reached their height in the seventeenth century. It was at this time that the emperor Shah Jahan removed his capital from Agra and brought it to Delhi, where he built a new metropolis on the banks of the Yamuna river... this glistening paradise of domes and gardens sprang up, stupefyingly, in less than one decade... in the days of its magnificence, it seemed that obsolescence could never visit such dewy bowers, such inordinate splendor, such implausible avenues, with their rose-water fountains, exquisite merchandise and royal processions.”

– Rana Dasgupta, “Capital, A Portrait of Twenty-first century Delhi”

Unsurprisingly regarded by historians as the most formidable builder ever born in the Mughal dynasty, emperor Shahjahan, a learned purveyor of civic planning with a keen eye for minute ornamental details and equally refined architectural sensibilities, possessed (like almost all rulers who reigned over India) an interminable love for commissioning magnificent edifices to last centuries and illuminate his proof and his reign as the majesty. He left his imprint on Delhi by commissioning two of its most magnificent structures – a massive fortified citadel conceived of deep red sandstone and hence christened “Qila-i-Surkh” ("Red Fort") and the breathtakingly gorgeous Friday congregation mosque Jama Masjid not very far from it. The sheer proportions of these two edifices, along with the painstaking effort that went into their construction is bewildering to say the least – but the real eye-opener is the precise detail with which these were constructed, the spectacular skill that went into their execution and the spellbinding artworks with which these were thoughtfully embellished.

Of all the lesser known features within the immense fortress, the most charming are two endearingly small, flawless white marble pavilions christened “Sawan” and “Bhadon” after the rain months according to Hindu calendar. Intended as an earthly imitation of paradise, the unparalleled fortress was envisaged complete with a huge garden that was flanked by exquisitely designed public buildings on one side, the royal family’s lavishly adorned personal quarters on the opposite and the fortress' enormous periphery on the other two sides – this was the “Hayat-Baksh bagh”, the “life-bestowing garden” planned according to the typical Mughal charbagh pattern of garden design where large square lawns are divided into smaller quadrants by means of causeways and walkways. Imparting a sophisticated, otherworldly charm to the entire complex, a noiselessly whirling water stream, referred to as “Nahr-i-Bisht” (“Stream of Paradise”), flowed through the vast gardens and all the royal quarters and pavilions.

Delicate - The Sawan pavilion

At the center of the garden existed a large ornamental water channel at either end of which symmetrically sat these two glittering pavilions surrounded by fragrant flower beds and lush grassy lawns for company. The well-thought nomenclature of these brilliantly shimmering pavilions betrays the purpose for which they were conceived, viz, creating a beautiful illusion of perennial waterfalls for the entertainment of the extravagant royalty. Perfectly complimenting and mirroring each other in almost every aspect, the two are set on high plinths which were once reached via staircases which do not exist anymore. Also entirely obliterated is the lavish ornamentation with which these identical picturesque edifices were adorned.

What still remains however are the unblemished pearly facades built exclusively of marble, the small decorative niches along the center of the front faces of their plinths, and the ethereal beauty and symmetry of the two that is further underlined by the three engrailed arches on three sides of each remarkable pavilion. That said, minor structural differences between the two, such as the presence of a complementary set of niches at the back of the wall through which water sprouts in the Bhadon pavilion and the absence of the same in Sawan pavilion where water flows through a shallow channel, do exist.

Their peerless functionality imperceptibly camouflaged by their elegant ornamental existence, both graceful pavilions were provided with a water channel running from the back wall to the front where the water cascaded down in front of the plinth niches – the view would have been unquestionably mesmerizing – it's said that during the day these niches were richly decorated with expensive vases made of gold and silver with vivid bursts of golden flowers peeping through, and at night the vases were replaced by slender white candles which when lighted appeared like twinkling stars in an obdurately dark night, with the soothing gurgle of gently falling water completing the dreamy scene. Matchless singers and renowned musicians, seated in these otherworldly marvelous pavilions, would often play their instruments and belt out heart-touching renditions.

The entire area is dry now, the still unmistakably handsome pavilions and the wide water channels appear irredeemably parched; the red sandstone has begun losing its vibrant character and the marble is gradually turning less milkier by the day; the skilled singers, the colorful flowers and the vivid golden ornamentation are long gone. The inspiring floral patterns carved in the marble of the back wall betray the fact that these were once intricately jeweled with stunning pietra dura inlay work with exceedingly expensive, colorful stones.

Vacant niches in a skeleton fortress where once treasuries overflowed

As the incomparable empire aged, its unequaled strength and enviable glory waned to such an extent that most princes and members of the royal family found it difficult to sustain their lavish lifestyles and rich passions – the outstanding fortress soon horribly transformed into an overpopulated residential quarter with asymmetric and austerely embellished tiny buildings to house these regal personalities cropping up without any regard to the original plan that Shahjahan (reigned AD 1638-58) had so lovingly conceived and his descendants painstakingly maintained – apparently, most of these royal relatives took to architecture as a means to assert their dwindling authority and the arguable right to reside in the imposing fortress and hence undertook these misguided constructions which stuck out like sore thumbs in Shahjahan’s paradisaical setting.

In a move that would have had Shahjahan inconsolably turn in his grave and roll his eyes with grief, the last Mughal Emperor Sirajuddin Muhammad Bahadur Shah “Zafar” II (reigned AD 1837-57) had, in 1842, a red sandstone pleasure pavilion constructed in a massive tank in the center of the extensive waterway connecting the Sawan-Bhadon pavilions. He also commissioned two more threadbare simplistic structures christened Hira Mahal and Moti Mahal along the fortress' impressive peripheries from where they pensively overlooked river Yamuna that once languidly flowed immediately adjacent – while Moti Mahal was barbarically dismantled by British administrators following the First War of Independece/Sepoy Mutiny of 1857, Hira Mahal still exists and has been documented on this blog here – Pixelated Memories - Hira Mahal.

Zafar Mahal - The last Mughal's last commission

The contrasting red pavilion was accessed by means of a sandstone bridge that connected it to the tank periphery, however it has since collapsed along with much of the roof and floor of the pavilion. Formidable water jets were employed along its avenues, but these too have since irreversibly decayed and disappeared. That the new pavilion, unimaginatively named “Zafar Mahal”, is a striking piece of architecture consisting of small rooms built around a central hall, the entire distinguished edifice notably possessing exquisite stone lattice screens (“jaalis”) along its outer peripheries, and delineated from both its own roof and the high plinth on which it sits by means of wide protruding “chajjas” (eaves), might have been the last shred of relief that the mighty Shahjahan might have been afforded since soon thereafter the enviable fortress was sacked when the British took control of it following the defeat of the imperial forces in the disastrous events of 1857. In the rioting and wanton destruction that followed, hundreds of rebel Indian troops and most of the (seemingly blameless) royal family were executed, imprisoned or exiled; the otherworldly beautiful Jama Masjid mosque of Shahjahan was humiliatingly converted into a grotesque horse stable (refer Pixelated Memories - Jama Masjid), but the severest punishment was reserved for his gigantic fortress – the exquisite pleasure pavilions and the magnificent regal quarters were horrifically turned into Officers’ mess, majestic public buildings and their annexes were thoughtlessly blasted to smithereens, the famed Hayat-Baksh garden was brutally destroyed to raise monotonous soldiers’ barracks in its place, and lastly, unscrupulous agents were avariciously employed for looting and sale of the rich adornments that imparted the fine edifices their brilliance, and as Sawan and Bhadon can testify to with their bare, gaping artwork which once delectably sparkled with the twinkle of precious stones, even the colorful gemstones were carved out with knives from the wall niches which they so endearingly jeweled. Appallingly, these two pavilions were later converted into urinals for soldiers, while the impressive Zafar Mahal and its associated pool became a site for swimming contests!

Parched and sunburnt!

Gordon Sanderson (1886-1915), the celebrated Superintendent of the northern circle of Archaeological Survey of India, famously responsible for the conservation and restoration of several monuments of national importance, noted in his "Delhi Fort: A Guide to the Buildings and Gardens" –

“Many of the buildings were then sadly in need of repair; others were used as barrack rooms or stores, while the area in which they stood was cut up by modern roads, and disfigured by unsightly military buildings. The old levels of the ground had been obliterated and bewildered visitor to the palace of the ‘Great Mogul’ wandered aimlessly about from building to building”

The colossal fortress today stands as a mere lifeless skeleton of its erstwhile glory; of the unparalleled fame that it once boasted of there is none now; the glimmering shimmer of candles and the multi-hued vibrance of flowers is long gone. Hundreds of thousands of tourists still flock to it every day, but the astonishment, the twinkle that once creeped into an onlooker’s eyes and left them bewitched has disappeared with the last of the Mughals. The seemingly unassailable empire which began with the march of the mighty Zahiruddin Muhammad Babur (reign AD 1526-30) from Afghanistan in the west ended with the demise of a heartbroken Bahadur Shah Zafar in Myanmar in the east.

Zafar Mahal, once upon a time (Photo courtesy - Jhss.org)

Zafar was left lamenting his punitive exile from his beloved country, penning his anguish thus –

“Lagta nahin hai jee mera ujare dayar mein, Kiski bani hai alam-e-na paayedar mein

Bulbul ko paasbaan se na saiyyad se gila, Qismat mein kaid likhi thi fasal-e-bahar mein

Keh do in hassraton se kahin or ja basen, Itni jagah kahan hai dil-e-daghdar mein

Ik shaakh-i-gul pe baith ke bulbul hai shadmaan, Kaante bicha diye hai dil-e-laalazaar mein

Umar-e-daraz maang ke laye the char din, Do aarzu mein kat gye do intezaar me

Din zindagi ke khatam hue sham ho gyi, Faila ke paon soyenge kunj-e-mazaar me

Kitna hi badnaseeb hai Zafar, dafan ke liye, Do gaz zameen bhi na mili ku-e-yaar mein”

“My heart has no repose in this despoiled land, Who has ever felt fulfilled in this futile world?

The nightingale complains about neither the sentinel nor the hunter,

Fate had decreed imprisonment during the harvest of spring

Tell these longings to dwell elsewhere, What place is there for them in this besmirched heart?

Sitting on a flowery branch the nightingale rejoices, strewing thorns in the garden of my heart

I asked for a long life, received four days, Two passed in desire, two in waiting.

The days of life are over, evening has fallen, I shall sleep, legs outstretched, in my tomb

How unfortunate is Zafar! For his burial not even two yards of land were to be had,

in the land of his beloved.”

Otherworldly magnificence, despite the physical assaults and the desecration

Location: Red Fort, Old Delhi (Shahjahanabad). The fortress, located at an extremity of the renowned Chandni Chowk street and connected to all parts of the city via regular bus and metro services, remains open everyday from 9 am to 6 pm, followed by a light-and-sound show.
Nearest Metro Station: Chandni Chowk
Nearest Bus stop: Red Fort
Nearest Railway Station: Purani Dilli
How to reach: The fortress is a mere half kilometer from the metro station and about a kilometer from the railway station. Walk from either of them. The bus stop is located immediately across it and is connected to all parts of the city via regular bus service. There are regular trains throughout the day to Purani Dilli on Delhi circular railway line and from the neighboring suburbs.
Entrance fees (inclusive of museum charges): Indians: Rs 15; Foreigners: Rs 250
Photography/video charges: Nil. Tripods not allowed without prior permission.
Relevant Links -
Composite post about the fortress complex - Pixelated Memories - Red Fort complex
Other edifices/museums located within the fortress complex -

Other monuments/landmarks located in the immediate vicinity -

Suggested Reading -

February 08, 2014

Sunehri Masjid (near Red Fort), New Delhi

Dusk was setting in and I was still walking along the periphery of the magnificent fortress that is Shahjahan’s legacy in the city of cities, unsure whether to head home or explore the old city some more, I let my feet guide me. The last vestiges of daylight were slowly giving way to creeping darkness; birds had returned to their nests in the trees and the lofty electricity towers that span this city like sentinels possessed with the sole aim of supporting a veil of thick black cables, the chirping soon grew to proportions that could drive anyone paying attention insane – it’s another thing that no one was paying any attention to the screeching and cawing birds – it was the night bazaar that had everyone’s eyes, as the morning traders collected their wares and folded their makeshift shops, their places were taken by evening traders – the aromas of rich, mouth-watering foods wafted through the smog-filled air, cars and autorickshaws competed in bouts of mad honking against each other, halogen bulbs threw yellow light that seemed inviting in the darkness of dusk but were soon overshadowed by the high beams of passing cars, a police patrol sirened its way through the flood of humanity that had littered on the streets like ants gathering around sugar. The ruckus, the din, the lights and the noise – each conspired to create an environment meant to overawe and trap visitors, to amaze them with new sights, to bind them with delicious smells.

Golden Mosque

It was under these circumstances that I found my way to Sunehri Masjid (“Golden Mosque”) located near the Delhi Gate of the Red Fort – a small mosque with big dreams, Sunehri Masjid is a child’s replica of the gigantic Jama Masjid that Shahjahan (ruled AD 1628-58) had commissioned at the height of Mughal supremacy (refer Pixelated Memories - Jama Masjid). But that’s where the similarities stop – while Jama Masjid’s towering minarets loom above the cityscape, this little mosque is overshadowed by the trees that populate its courtyard; massive gateways mark the entry to Jama Masjid, a small entrance is all that the Sunehri Masjid can boast of. One last similarity between the two mosques is that no priest climbs up either’s twin minarets to call the faithful to prayer – he won’t be heard from the height of Jama Masjid’s towers, he won’t be able to fit in Sunehri Masjid’s towers.

The entrance is decorated in patterns and artwork and is perhaps the most interesting feature of the mosque – embedded within the rubble periphery of the courtyard, the gateway possesses the flowing curves and arches that were a trademark of Mughal architecture, though like the rest of the artwork these too appear understated. The gateway opens to a wide staircase that leads up to the mosque’s courtyard; a peep back reveals stairs leading from the courtyard to the gateway’s roof level – one wonders how far one can see after climbing atop this small structure – not very far if you ask me.

Entrance gateway - Modest

The mosque’s bulbous domes and slender minarets are hidden from view by a curtain of canopy – trees that decided to outgrow the structure they were supposed to beautify. It’s prayer time, about a dozen or so men are gathered in the mosque’s interiors listening to the sermons being delivered by an Imam (priest) – darkness covers every face, there is not a light in the mosque though one can make out the cheerfully painted interiors in the light of the setting sun. I would have loved to see some more but the Imam asked me (rather roughly) to step out of the mosque even though I wasn't inconveniencing the devotees in any way - how was I to know that it would be prayer time and you would take offense even if someone comes and stands in the end just so s/he can admire the mosque?? The interior artwork has disappeared, long buried under thick coats of paint; a cobwebbed fan looks desolately from behind the central arch, perhaps a beautiful handcrafted lamp hung in its place once. Rolled up prayer mats stand against each arch wall; one notices that the courtyard floor has flower-shaped depressions meant as ornamentation along its entire surface. A plaque above the central arched entrance is inscribed with details of the mosque’s construction – it was commissioned by Mumtaz Mahal Sahiba Qudsia Begum and its building was overseen by Nawab Bahadur Javed Khan, the mother and head eunuch respectively of Badshah Ghazi Ahmed Shah Bahadur (reigned AD 1748-54). Qudsia Begum (aka Udham Bai) was once a dancer – she must have been pretty good at her art because the Emperor Muhammad Shah (ruled AD 1719-48) decided to marry her and placed in her tender hands a contingent of 50,000 armed soldiers. The Queen slowly became so influential that she began to dictate the affairs of the state; she became one of the royal administrators when her son succeeded her husband – apparently Ahmed Shah was illiterate in the arts and learning and untaught in military and martial training (illiterate, a prince? Surprising, right?).

Close up - The only view unimpeded by the tree line

The mosque, completed in the year 1750-51 towards the fag end of the once mighty empire, adds to the list of buildings the Begum patronized (another is the Qudsia Bagh mosque-garden complex in Kashmere Gate area), though am yet to learn why she is considered a patron of arts and architecture if she commissioned only two buildings and her own son was never educated in arts and learning – a clear example of overstated royalty, and of course, poor parenting!! The mosque’s onion domes were once gilded with copper and that gave it its glistening golden tint and hence the name – the copper was replaced with red sandstone facing when the last Mughal Emperor Bahadur Shah “Zafar” II had the mosque repaired in the year 1852. Not that his devotion helped him – he was the Emperor of a finished empire, wisp of an already extinguished fire, lording from a fortress that had become a skeleton of its former glory over a territory that was his only in name – he was removed from even the nominal position merely five years after he had the mosque repaired, tried for war crimes perpetrated against the British during the First War of Independence/Sepoy Mutiny of 1857 and exiled to Rangoon (Burma/Myanmar). Strange is the tide of life – a dancer becomes an Empress, an Emperor becomes a prisoner!!

For details and photographs of the Sunehri Masjid on Chandni Chowk street, refer - Pixelated Memories - Sunehri Masjid

Location: Near Delhi Gate of Red Fort
Nearest Metro Station: Chandni Chowk
How to reach: Buses plying from different parts of the city for Red Fort/Delhi Gate (of Shahjanabad)/Mori Gate will drop you opposite Red Fort. Walk towards the Delhi Gate of Red Fort; Sunehri Masjid is near the parking lot.
Open: Sunrise to sunset
Entrance fees: Nil
Photography/Video charges: Nil
Time required for sightseeing: 20 min
Relevant Links -

March 16, 2013

Hira Mahal, Red Fort complex, Delhi

This article is part of a series about Red Fort, Delhi. Refer Pixelated Memories – Red Fort complex for the composite post.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“In dino garche dakkan mein hai badi qadre sukhan,

Kaun jaaye Zauq par, Dilli ki galiyan chhod kar?”

“Let it be granted that there is today a greater patronage and love of art in Deccan;

But, Zauq, who has the heart to leave the lanes of Delhi and go away?”

– Sheikh Muhammad Ibrahim “Zauq” (1789-1854),

Emperor Bahadur Shah “Zafar” II’s court poet and Urdu tutor

At their lowest ebb, the tragically feeble dregs of the dying Mughal Empire had to content themselves by dejectedly manifesting in the uninspiring forms of artistically and architecturally inconsequential minor palatial edifices and religious/funerary structures scattered about Delhi, including within the bewilderingly impressive Red Fort fortress-palace that one of their formidable progenitors had extravagantly constructed and opulently adorned. In the penultimate moments of their sovereignty, not long before the shallow breath of their empire was to be conclusively extinguished, these last of the “Great Mughals” commissioned several insignificant edifices with the optimistic intention of these reflecting favorably upon their distinguished existence and sumptuous prosperity, but which in reality had an unforeseen effect quite to the contrary. And although numerous of these trivial edifices were viciously obliterated in their entirety, except in contemporaneous documentary records, by vengeful British forces that ferociously occupied and avariciously devastated the magnificent fortress-palace following the Sepoy Mutiny/First War of Independence of 1857, the few that were intermittently spared in the onslaught wretchedly remain to affirm the miserable ignominy of the despairing last of this unparalleled line of sovereigns.

Disguising reality - Bahadur Shah “Zafar” II
(Photo courtesy - Columbia.edu)

Prior to being contemptuously exiled to distant Rangoon on charges of treason and conspiracy, the last emperor Abu Muhammad Sirajuddin Bahadur Shah “Zafar” II (reign AD 1837-57), ostensibly entitled “Zil-i-Ilahi Badshah Ghazi Al-Sultan-al-Azam Shahanshah-e-Sultanat-ul-Hindiya-wal-Mughaliya” (“Shadow of God, Champion of Faith, The Great King, King of Kings, The Lord of the Empire of Hindustan and the Mughals”), commissioned several inconsequential palaces within the eminent fortress-palace and elsewhere in Delhi – of these, two minor ones are still existential within the colossal fortress-palace amidst the smattering of other far superior edifices that defined the noteworthy seraglio. The first, a tiny, vibrant red pleasure pavilion has already been documented on this blog here – Pixelated Memories - Zafar Mahal.

The second, grievously narrating its pitiful tale and exposing its stark nakedness devoid of even the minutest of ornamentation, is ironically known as “Hira Mahal” (“Diamond Palace”), and was one of two identical sparkling white marble pavilions built in the year 1842 as minuscule constituents of the long row of breathtakingly splendid regal palaces commandingly overlooking river Yamuna lethargically flowing barely a stone’s throw away from the fortress’ immense peripheries. While Hira Mahal thankfully escaped post-1857 upheavals with only minor damages, its twin counterpart, “Moti Mahal” (“Pearl Palace”), was decimated to imperceptible dust.

Unfathomably unadorned vis-à-vis Emperor Shahjahan’s (reign AD 1627-57) matchless bewitching palaces to which it looks up to like an unfamiliar impoverished pauper while extraordinarily standing on their own high plinth, the pavilion, measuring a measly 15.9 X 6.8 meter squares, was envisaged as possessing three arched openings on each of its four sides, therefore rendering it wholly open to the environment and bestowing upon it the alternative nomenclature “Baradari” (“Twelve-pillared pavilion”).

Hira Mahal - Nakedness articulated!

Given the last monarch’s self-acknowledged insurmountable destitution, one assumes that neither was the poor edifice shrouded by profusely embroidered tapestries during winters, nor would it have been enclosed with continuously-watered fragrant Khas grass (Andropogon muricatus) screens during summers. It wouldn’t be disorienting to learn that the outrageously penurious emperor sat here disgracefully stripped of all authority under an appallingly tattered canopy even more shameful than his regal audience hall!

The diminutive pavilion is presently closed for public entry and the sloping walkway providing access to the imposing seraglio on this side remains barred by stretched chains and barricades. Awestruck visitors can admire the strikingly symmetrical line of copiously ornamented palaces, and endeavor to comprehend how the unequaled Mughals disastrously managed to lose all they had and squander the world’s richest kingdom to recurrent military defeats and reprehensible court intrigues and internal strife. If visitors could climb up to the level though, they wouldn’t anymore observe the river flowing opposite for it too had abruptly shifted course long time back, only to be replaced by the slithering arterial Ring Road with its ceaseless barrage of vehicles, cyclists and pedestrians. The lethargic flow of the widespread river immediately adjacent, like the prodigious Mughals, is now the envious stuff of oft-repeated legends, remembered in cherished folklore and documentary tales, yet availing little except endlessly prompting incredulous folks to wide-eyed wonder and assess what was and what could have been.

Talk about insignificance - That's all the Archaeological Survey has to offer!

Location: Red Fort, Old Delhi (Shahjahanabad). The fortress, located at an extremity of the renowned Chandni Chowk street and connected to all parts of the city via regular bus and metro services, remains open everyday from 9 am to 6 pm, followed by a light-and-sound show.
Nearest Metro Station: Chandni Chowk
Nearest Bus stop: Red Fort
Nearest Railway Station: Purani Dilli
How to reach: The fortress is a mere half kilometer from the metro station and about a kilometer from the railway station. Walk from either of them. The bus stop is located immediately across it and is connected to all parts of the city via regular bus service. There are regular trains throughout the day to Purani Dilli on Delhi circular railway line and from the neighboring suburbs.
Entrance fees (inclusive of museum charges): Indians: Rs 15; Foreigners: Rs 250
Photography/video charges: Nil. Tripods not allowed without prior permission.
Relevant Links -
Composite post about the fortress complex - Pixelated Memories - Red Fort complex
Other edifices/museums located within the fortress complex -