Pixelated Memories: Gateway

Showing posts with label Gateway. Show all posts

September 23, 2014

Khirki Masjid, Saket, Delhi

With the singular exception of old Delhi’s ethereally beautiful Jama Masjid, the grand Khirki Masjid, possibly the largest mosque I have ever been to in Delhi, located in a maze of untrodden alleyways and winding narrow lanes immediately opposite the massive MGF Mall at Saket, is also perhaps the most prominent example of the gigantic militaristic architectural scheme that came up during the reign of Tughlaq Dynasty (AD 1320-1414). Despite its simplistic unadorned structure, the mosque nonetheless continues to appear immensely majestic, even more magnificent than its smaller, more splendid cousins like the shimmering white Kalan Masjid at Nizamuddin basti or the vibrant red and gorgeously bedecked Jama Masjid at Hazrat Nizamuddin Dargah complex – it might have something to do with the collective amnesia suffered by the large population of the Khirki village who have literally not the slightest clue that there is such a massive structure located at the periphery of their village – in fact, when Sakshi and I tried locating the ruined mosque by asking for directions from the locals and shopkeepers, none of them had any idea of what we were indicating about, and this is extremely surprising given that the village settlement itself has been christened after the unique mosque which draws its apt nomenclature from the numerous red sandstone “khirkis” (perforated stone lattice windows) that distinctively mark its surface (but are absent in other mosques). Though the continuous going around in circles and walking into cul-de-sacs unexpectedly introduced us to several stunning graffiti panels that adorn the village buildings (perhaps the products of the Delhi Street Art festival that I talked about here – Pixelated Memories - Tihar Jail - Graffiti and Haat), it did eventually get very frustrating and we were on the verge of switching on the Google maps in our phones when an elderly cobbler running his trade from a corner of a footpath, confused at what we were looking for, asked if we wished to visit the “Qila” (“fortress”) and directed us to it – that was it – even Tughlaq-era mosques flaunt a fortress-like appearance, more of a cross between a religious and a militaristic structure, complete with thick, battered rubble walls, tall forbidding gateways, lofty minarets, soaring corner watchtowers and formidable battlements. The sudden appearance of the mosque’s enormous rubble walls between residential buildings and tall trees that conceal it from prying eyes is surprising – past a narrow alley, it grandly and unexpectedly conjures out of thin air and fills the entire landscape with its enormity and characteristic rough appearance.

Forbidding - The southern gateway (only entrance in use at present) and rows of cells on either side

The nearly 650-year old structure was designed and commissioned by Khan-i-Jahan Malik Juna Shah Telengani, who inherited his title “Khan-i-Jahan” (“Lord of the World”) and his position as the “Wazir” (“Prime Minister”) from his father Khan-i-Jahan Malik Maqbool Telengani who before him was the prime minister to Sultan Feroz Shah Tughlaq (ruled AD 1351-88). Telengani Junior lacked the characteristic interest in administration and warfare that his father was renowned for and his only penchant was for architecture and construction. He raised seven of the finest mosques in Delhi, all of which possessed an unparalleled splendor in their more glorious days and some of which are still unbelievably grand – interestingly, he himself was only a second generation Muslim – his father was originally known as Kuttu Yugandhar Gannama Nayaka and was the military commander of the Warangal garrison that Feroz Shah’s cousin and predecessor Muhammad Juna Khan Tughlaq (ruled AD 1325-51) had destroyed when he defeated the Kakatiya Dynasty sovereign Prataprudra Deva II. He was captured and brought to Delhi where he converted to Islam and since then efficiently led numerous military campaigns for his new master following which he was bestowed with the titles “Masnad-i-Ali Ulugh Qutlugh Azam-i-Humayun” ("The repository of religion and jurisprudence and the greatest of the blessed lords"). When Feroz Shah Tughlaq ascended the throne of Delhi, he immediately raised Malik Maqbool Telengani to the enviable position of prime minister, entitled him “Khan-i-Jahan” and prompted by his own lack of interest in administration handed over the entire governance and powerful military to the latter along with an annual salary of 1.3 million gold coins (at a time when the entire annual national revenue from all sources was pegged at 65 million gold coins!) besides annually paying a thousand gold coins to each of his sons and a slightly smaller sum to each of his daughters born from the over 2,000 wives he boasted of in his harem (a ridiculously exaggerated tale I believe). Following his death in AD 1370, his eldest son Malik Juna Shah inherited his position, titles and salary besides the religion and immediately set about constructing the mosques – through religious activities, he might have proved himself to be a devout Muslim but he never inherited his father’s fierce loyalty to the emperor and was disgraced and executed while trying to foment quarrel between the Sultan and his eldest son Muhammad Khan Tughlaq.

Ghostly! - First impressions as observed from the eastern (primary) gateway that now remains barred and locked. On either side in the foreground are staircases leading to the roof.

As if the mosque is surrounded by a moat, the lush green square, in which the gigantic structure is located and which demarcates its existence from the thickly-populated village encircling it, is situated on a considerably lower ground level compared to the surroundings and enclosed by means of a high iron wire mesh. A sloping ramp leads downwards to the base of the gigantic gateway set protruding from the mosque’s walls; the solid gateway is flanked by two rounded conical minarets that are garishly obscured at places by overhanging thick electrical wires and bear a fluted appearance at least till the first of their three floors. The mosque itself sits on a high plinth – nearly 3 meters tall – composed of numerous arched chambers that make up the ground floor of the structure; around a score stairs lead up to the rough rectangular entrance composed of trabeates (stone ledges of successively increasing size placed atop each other to span space) that were a favorite of the affluent Tughlaq nobility. But before heading down the ramp and then up the wide staircase, one is tempted to take a walk around the entire wire enclosure and explore the mosque from all sides – the wire effectively shuts out encroachments and vandals but also wretchedly stifles the mosque structure and leaves not a single side from where one can appreciate or photograph the huge structure in its entirety.

Strikingly symmetrical - 180° panorama looking at the corner tower and the two gateways on either side clicked from a corner of the confined enclosure

We began discussing how splendid the characteristic militaristic structure would have looked like when it was faced with a layer of untainted white plaster and perhaps affixed with marble or red sandstone where the numerous cross-shaped indentations exist in the line of kanguras (battlement-like ornamentation) that runs along the roof – the discussion prompted us to go around the entire structure and if possible observe it from one of the tall buildings in the immediate vicinity – the over 2500 square meter area of the mosque (52 meters X 52 meters) is more than 80% covered by a roof surmounted by numerous domes positioned in a complicated placement plan – the entire roof is divided into a grid of twenty five squares, nine of which (on the corners, immediately adjacent to the gateways and the center) each possess nine slightly conical domes; one relatively larger, ribbed dome also surmounts each of the gateway and the corner turrets culminate into domed conical watchtowers thereby imparting the entire roof a symmetrical but very congested checkered appearance and bringing to mind the enormous dinosaur egg clusters in “Jurassic Park” series. The mosque was the first in India to be shrouded peculiarly by such a massive roof – all other mosques of such grand dimensions usually have open courtyards as congregational areas for the faithful to offer prayers from, or, at the most, colonnades along their peripheries to serve as walkways and shield the visitors from the elements – till date, it is one of the few to display such a markedly distinctive architectural design. The decision made, we began the circumambulation, it was then that we met Komal, a sweet little girl who resides in a small match-box building divided into numerous quarters immediately overlooking the mosque, who led us upstairs to her narrow terrace from where we could click the mosque – discounting my scared apprehensions about traversing almost 30 feet above ground from one rooftop to another located a couple of feet away (my doctor says if I hurt my arm again, it will be permanently damaged!), we did climb up and even try to click the mosque's vast span while standing on a wobbly table, but sadly, the view here was impeded by many other buildings. Komal then took us to one of the highest buildings in the neighborhood and the view from here was, simply put, fascinating – apart from the huge mosque spread majestically below us, we could look over most other rooftops, even see the Saket malls in the background and identify the ancient Satpula dam in a green clearing.

Where did she learn to pose like that?! - I don't know why I feel shy clicking portraits/candids, but there was something about Komal, her unwavering confidence or her unremitting gaze, or perhaps the fact that Sakshi besides me was doing the same, that prompted me to click her.

Following the descent down the unbelievably dark, narrow and winding staircase of the six-floor building, we traced our way back to the mosque’s entrance – though originally the eastern entrance was the primary gateway to the mosque, now it too is barred by means of a locked iron grille and only the southern entrance, that faces the arterial Press Enclave Road and the malls on the opposite side, is now functioning. There are neither guards nor ticketing officers on duty, the structure is serenely isolated from the population as if it doesn’t even exist in their midst; a few men sat and gossiped near the entrance but none ventured within nor did they stay there very long, probably one of them was the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) guard since he stayed back even after the others had left. At first appearance, the mosque’s unornamented stark interiors look like most other medieval structures – simplistic arches, unadorned monolithic rectangular pillars and shallow alcoves along the walls make up most of the architectural plan – all features that can also be observed in numerous other structures scattered throughout the city – it is the massiveness of the structure, apparent only once inside since the exteriors have been very successfully bludgeoned into an unflattering confinement by the wire enclosure, that holds one’s amazement. There are rows upon rows of pillars supporting the heavy roof for as far as one can see, the view is regal and spellbinding and it becomes difficult to fathom that even a mosque could be this huge.

Colossal - 180° panorama looking inside from one of the gateways. And this is less than a quarter of the entire area!

The colonnades along the walls are blinding dark since the windows elegantly fail to let in enough sunlight to illuminate even slightly beyond their limited domains – most of the light and ventilation entering the mosque's deeper recesses are facilitated by the four open to sky courtyards near the center. Roosting among the dark and damp colonnades are hundreds of scary bats that chirp and squeal continuously and often dive close to one’s head or shoulders – in fact, there are so many of them that one can spot dark circles of their shit and refuse underneath the individual concave roofs supported by the rectangular double pillars at the very margins, especially in the completely dark portions near the mihrab . The mihrab (a mosque’s western wall indicating the direction of Mecca that is faced by Muslims while offering prayers) lacks the entrance as well as the signature windows, but is otherwise entirely identical in design and execution to the other three walls, even possessing a faux blocked up gateway. But the colonnades flanking each of the four aforementioned courtyards around the center prove an interesting but extremely sharp contrast by facilitating the sudden appearance of shards of blinding sunlight. A few of these colonnades have been recently repaired and replastered, but a major proportion has been left untouched and decrepit, there wasn’t any sign of workers or construction material around either to indicate that the restoration work is in progress – it fills one with a unique joy to imagine how eye-catching the interiors would look when completely leveled with layers of fresh white plaster. Photographing the majestic structure is an issue, one cannot understand how to visualize the compositions so as to make them appealing but also do pictorial justice to the numerous pillars and the immensity of the interiors. The play of light and shadows, though visually spellbinding is difficult to transform into alluring photographs without ignoring the other architectural aspects of the mosque like its striking symmetry or the presence of numerous distinctive stone windows latticed into smaller squares. Eventually, I decided to click panoramas, even though I abhor them for the lack of details they record, in order to include the mosque’s mammoth spread and its enthralling architecture.

Fascinatingly vintage!

The eastern gateway was once embedded by a stone plaque that detailed the mosque’s commissioning and construction, but it is long gone – it would have in all probability read something like “Juna Shah Maqbool Telengani, titled Khan-i-Jahan, son of Khan-i-Jahan, commissioned the mosque in the reign of Saka Lord Sultan Feroz Tughlaq in the pious year 1370-71”, of course along with a few honorifics and hyperboles. Nearby, a portion of the domed roof along the south-eastern corner has collapsed and lets in patches of sunlight incongruous with the light and dark patterns throughout the rest of the interiors, but nonetheless a welcome relief from the extremely dark, bat-infested conditions; pigeons roost here and prove to be considerably more noisome though remarkably less scary than the sneaky bats. Two narrow staircases built on either side of the gateway along its internal surface lead upstairs to the roof where one can observe the numerous domes (and the etchings and graffiti left by vandals on their blackened surfaces) up close and juxtaposed against the spellbindingly uneven skyline of the Khirki village. The cluster of malls with their reflecting glass panels prove to be an eyesore, blocking out much of the view on one side, but nevertheless appear beckoning with the promise of shade and air conditioning that no one could have possibly refused in this sweltering heat. We decide to find shelter from the inconceivably brilliant sunshine underneath one of the domed corner towers before proceeding from one corner to the next to click from each of them even though the view was identically similar – in one of these towers, someone had left their treasured stash of kites, while in another were left a few bone dry but perceptibly fresh chappatis (Indian bread) – indicative that some locals do visit the mosque, even though they might not be aware of its historic or architectural importance.

Squares and dinosaur eggs - 180° panorama clicked from a high rise overlooking the medieval structure

The village, though so far kept at bay from the structure by the wire enclosure, has literally choked the well-preserved mosque in clear disregard of an ASI rule stipulating prohibition of construction within 100 meters of any protected monument – the mosque’s encircling and subdual by a wave of urbanization and unplanned construction is most apparent from the rooftop from where one can see how it has been dwarfed and imprisoned by the haphazard outcrop of surrounding buildings. It might perhaps have been a little bearable were the grassy corners of the wire enclosure not brimming with everyday waste discarded by the village inhabitants besides used electrical equipments and glass and plastic wastes, including a broken tube light on which I stepped unknowingly. Telengani Senior’s octagonal tomb (the first of its kind in Delhi, also designed by Telengani Junior) in the densely congested Nizamuddin basti has been so devastatingly encroached upon by the locals that there is no access to it nor any way to observe any of its features except the dome that still remains untouched by the surrounding buildings; a few of Telengani Junior’s mosques have also already been submerged in the deluge of shabby residential quarters and encroachments – will the Khirki mosque also go the same way? Let’s hope not! The thought itself makes one shudder. Perhaps the way out of this stalemate between monument conservation and the pressures of urbanization would be to include the local community in the former by providing them space around the mosque for congregation and physical activities and converting the interiors into a restored recreational zone – as envisaged by an architectural design company, ASI and INTACH have already begun trying to organize student-oriented activities like sketching/painting events, dramas, storytelling sessions and pottery classes in some of the more ventilated portions of the mosque. Plans are on to lend the colossal congregation area for short plays, book fairs and such besides also housing information kiosks and souvenir shops while the cells along the plinth level could be made available to artists to display and merchandise their work.

Looking back - The mosque, as it appears when viewed from the road separating the congested village from the glamorous malls opposite

Though of course all these plans won’t proceed unless the mosque is restored first and the work, which had been begun in anticipation of tourist footfall, came to a standstill soon afterwards after several oversights relating to the use of material and their subsequent effects on the structure were observed. As a beginning, night lightning would go a long way – given that the structure is located just off an important arterial road and immediately opposite some of the most renowned high-end shopping clusters of the city, lightning might even help attract visitors and tourists and who knows, perhaps someday the monument might also host the occasional sound and light shows or plays featuring renowned actors/storytellers. Tourism is definitely going to play a significant role – the more people visit, photograph and write about these forgotten structures, the quicker the archaeological and municipal agencies would be forced to take notice and complete the restoration-conservation work and who knows, perhaps supplement the monument sooner rather than later with a publication/souvenir department. The idea is definitely well thought out – for me at least, even the thought of a monument being put to such wonderful uses instead of being relegated to a forgotten, neglected state fills the heart with an inexplicable fascination! But before we begin to give ourselves to thoughts of fancy that, given the lethargic Indian bureaucracy and administration, might take several years to materialize, the foremost need of the hour is to ensure local awareness, including proper signages and information panels, so at least when in near future two photographers come nosing around looking for the medieval mosque, they won’t draw blanks or have to go around in circles!

Signs of change? - One of the numerous graffiti panels that adorn the otherwise unremarkable streetscape of the village

How to reach: The mosque (coordinates: 28°31'52.3"N, 77°13'11.2"E) is located in Khirki village immediately opposite Select Citywalk/MGF Mall and across the Press Enclave Road. It can be accessed by heading down a short stretch of a narrow uneven lane adjacent a makeshift temple (more of a wall with red painted bricks and a few idols) at the side of the Press Enclave road. Walk from the Khirki village bus stop (couple of hundred meters away from the mosque) or take an auto for Rs 50 from the metro station to the malls and walk from there on.

Open: All days, 10 am - 5 pm

Entrance fees: Nil

Photography/Video charges: Nil

Time required for sightseeing: 1 hr

Advisory - Given the secluded nature of the area and especially the mosque, female visitors should prefer to be accompanied by men and avoid visiting the area after dark.

Relevant Links -

Suggested reading -

August 13, 2014

Chaumukh Darwaza, Mehrauli Archaeological Park, Delhi

In an isolated corner of Mehrauli Archaeological Park, forgotten by the residents of the ancient city of cities that is Delhi, ignored by archaeological-conservation authorities and tourists alike, reclaimed by vegetation and foliage and veiled by a blanket of dense trees and brilliant sunshine, come face-to-face remnants of several centuries of human existence that culminated into a highly advanced yet culturally sublime civilization whose roots stretch back to several eons in history. Standing testimony to the residence of skilled builder-craftsmen and exceptionally talented artists in this part of the world, these monuments, that have long since passed from the collective memory of those who still inhabit the surrounding country, represent a fusion of several architectural and artistic cultures, a coming together of traditions that had made journeys worth several thousand miles and an equal number of years in time, a flowering of new forms of art and construction from the stalks of existing knowledge and traditional practices. Of all the structures in the vast open plain here, the most frequently overlooked and seldom written about is probably the oldest, and yet it doesn’t play the part of the elderly. In the shadow of the renowned Qutb Minar and Quwwat-ul-Islam mosque, respectively the oldest Islamic structures in the magnificent city and amongst the oldest in the country, enclosed by a curtain of trees and consigned to a sorry existence by layers upon layers of rotting, stench-emitting garbage that seem to grow exponentially, the Chaumukh Darwaza (“four-faced gateway”) happens to be the earliest construction in the region – one of the few surviving gateways of the majestic Lal Kot, the erstwhile gigantic “red fortress” of the Tomar and Chauhan Hindu Rajputs (AD 736-1192) who reigned over immense territories stretching all the way from modern Rajasthan and Haryana to the frontiers of Punjab. Of the thirteen gateways of Lal Kot, Chaumukh Darwaza happens to be the most easily accessible and yet it is rare for a tourist to venture in and explore this section of Mehrauli Archaeological Park despite its proximity to the handsome tomb of Quli Khan (refer Pixelated Memories - Quli Khan's Tomb) – it might have something to do with the huge number of monuments, in different stages of excavation, that are being restored and made visually palatable throughout the massive archaeological park and especially enroute to the gateway, or with the notion that after numerous exquisitely adorned and intricately carved tombs and mosques, a simplistic rubble masonry wall running division between modern residential quarters and medieval heritage structures holds little artistic and architectural value – and yet, it is this long stretch of thick curtain wall, intermittently interspersed with bastions and slight turns, that once demarcated the ancient Hindu citadel from the surrounding countryside.

Delhi's original gateway!

The defensive gateway doesn’t appear eight centuries old, it has been repaired time and again by the numerous dynasties that reigned over the country with Delhi as their seat of strength – the immensely thick sloping walls and the squat, low appearance, made more prominent by the thick base, conveys unparalleled strength and obstinate steadfastness, and is reminiscent of the architecturally-rich Tughlaq-era (AD 1325-1414) construction which was known for its lack of ornamentation and emphasis on function over form. The gateway is said to be one of the principle entrances to the city – it isn’t hard to drift into a world of imagination and fantasy and visualize it as being flanked by low makeshift bazaars composed of tents and small wooden pedestals where traders and merchants stock fruits, vegetables, flour and spices, along the paved tracks are brought bundles of cloth and stocks of firewood by means of horse and bullock carts and a steady stream of people – merchants, travelers, pilgrims, soldiers and criminals – traverse in and out all the time while sentries posted on either side inspect people and their wares in the midst of continuous hum of the chatter of people, jovial cries of children, barks of domesticated dogs, and shouts and music of conjurers, snake charmers and acrobats.

One of the bastions along this stretch of the wall; the gateway peeps from behind the vegetation in the background. The corners have fallen apart where the wall makes extreme turns and one can cross to the residential colony opposite Quli Khan's tomb from there.

Alas, today heaps of garbage and construction debris being dumped right upto the raised, paved pathway leading to the gateway turn a hopeful visit into a futile excursion since the way to the gateway is blocked and one has to traverse through a flood of food packets, polythene and vegetable waste beside glass shreds and piles of stone and cement, in the company of groaning dump trucks and waste-filled trolley tractors – one begins to wonder if this is actually the backyard of the Qutb Complex, a World Heritage Site, and the magnificently restored monuments stand just around the corner. Oh Delhi, what have you done!

Location: Near Quli Khan's tomb, Mehrauli Archaeological Park (Coordinates: 28°31'24.6"N 77°11'14.8"E)
How to reach: One can walk from Quli Khan's tomb (red sandstone markers within the park indicate the way to the tomb); alternately one can access the gateway from Qutb complex.
Open: Sunrise to sunset
Entrance fees: Nil
Photography/Video charges: Nil
Time required for sightseeing: 20 min
Relevant Links -

Suggested reading -

Thehindu.com - Article "Monument stripped of old stones" (dated Sep 08, 2003) by Mandira Nayar

June 16, 2014

Safdarjung's Tomb Complex, New Delhi

“Safdarjung’s tomb with its bulbous dome and stained sandstone walls seems somehow flawed and degenerate…it at first sight looks wrong; its lines look somehow faulty, naggingly incorrect…Half-way though the construction, the marble appears to have run out. Prominent strips of inlay were left unfinished; awkward patches of pink sandstone intrude into the glistening white of the dome. The effect is like a courtier in a tatty second-hand livery: the intention grand, but the actual impression tawdry, almost ridiculous…Inside the capitals have turned almost into cabbages as they curve and curl in vegetable convulsions. They throw up stamens and tendrils past the stalactite muqarnas and squinches, gripping and voluting towards the floral boss of the low inner dome…The spirit is fecund, Baccahanalian, almost orgiastic…Like some elderly courtesan, the tomb tries to mask its imperfections beneath thick layers of make-up; its excesses of ornament are worn like over-applied rouge. Even the little mosque to the side of the gate has a whiff of degeneracy about it; its three domes are flirtatiously striped like the flared pyjamas of nautch girl; there is something voluptuous in its buxom curves.”

– William Dalrymple, renowned author-historian, “City of Djinns: A year in Delhi”

Given the notoriety that Safdarjung’s tomb has received on account of the evocative remarks furthered about it in travel blogs and books, one wonders if the beautiful tomb loses much of its charm on account of shoddy marketing and the impression of it being “the last flicker in the lamp of Mughal architecture in Delhi” (Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) website quote) that visitors form prior to visiting the splendid tomb complex. That it has been ridiculed for being built out of marble pilfered from previous tombs, overly ornamented with plaster, a poor copy of Humayun’s Tomb nearby and even for possessing the color of potted meat is a known fact, what is more shocking, and equally disappointing, is that most people writing about the tomb never really attempt to discover the history behind its construction and ornamentation or into Safdarjung’s life and machinations – in fact, as I read through most travel websites, all I got were the same lines, including Mr Dalrymple’s quote, copy-pasted again and again everywhere.

Safdarjung's mausoleum (notice the mosque's dome peeping over the vegetation in the left background)

Before we start with Safdarjung's life and burial, a primer about Shia and Sunni sects of Islam - At the time of Prophet Muhammad’s death, the early Muslims got divided over the issue of who should be the heir to the Prophet – one faction favored his cousin and son-in-law Ali (“Shia’t Ali” or the “partisans of Ali”) while the other favored Abu Bakr, Prophet’s father-in-law (father of Ali’s step mother-in-law, i.e, Prophet's other wife). Since the religious and spiritual head of Muslims was also Islam’s political leader, the conflict got politicized and violent over time, claiming amongst its initial victims Ali as well his sons. The former faction came to be known as Shia (with several sub-sects like Ashari, Ahmadiyas, Bohras) while the latter were referred to as Sunnis – the conflict and violence still continues in most countries that can claim significant Muslim population, including occasionally in India too. The Mughal Empire, that ruled virtually unabated for close to two centuries over a large segment of the Indian subcontinent, professed to and promoted Sunnism – most of them were involved in the persecution of Shias, execution of spiritual leaders, desecration and destruction of their religious sites and libraries, suppression of religious customs and traditions, and according second-class citizen status to them – but that didn’t stop them from employing Shias in the administration, governance and military, especially those escaping from even more intolerant and ruthless societies like Persia and Central Asia. Perhaps the intolerance stemmed from the fact that Emperor Humayun (ruled AD 1530-40 and 55-56) had to pretend to embrace Shia’ism in order to gain asylum and military assistance from Shah Tahmasp of Persia when the former had been chased out of the country by the Afghan warlord Sher Shah Suri in AD 1540. The renowned French traveler Tavernier noted about the Iranian Shias who had found asylum and prestige in the Mughal court thus –

“It is true that although they regarded the Sunnis with horror they, nevertheless follow, in outward show, the religion of the monarch, believing that to make or secure their fortune they might conceal their true belief, and that it sufficed for them to cherish it in their hearts…Although Aurangzeb had, as I have said, numerous Persians in his service, he did not allow them to celebrate the festival of Hasan and Hussain, sons of Ali”

Grace and symmetry

In late seventeenth century, the powerful Mughal empire began to collapse under the reign of emperors who spent most of their time in their dance and art ateliers or in the company of courtesans and concubines at the expense of administration and territorial expansion – local governors and military officials revolted, in several instances peasants and merchants rebelled, powerful local warlords and prominent leaders carved out their own empires along the fringes of the Mughal country, thereby dealing political, financial and religious reversals to the once-invincible empire – Rajputs (Hindus/Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh), Adil Shahi (Shia/Deccan), Qutb Shahi (Shia/Hyderabad and Karnataka), Marathas (Hindus/Maharashtra and Madhya Pradesh), Rohillas (Sunni/Rohilkhand in western Uttar Pradesh) were the most prominent of these forces, though most of them began as vassals of the Mughals and were in the end too annexed by the Mughals or English colonial forces. Among the Shia adventurers who came to India was Saadat Khan I of Nishapur (Iran) – through sheer determination he rose to become an influential court figure and a powerful army warlord in a country that was foreign to him and against hostile religious environment, reaching the pinnacle of his achievements by becoming the Governor (“Nawab”) of the rich province of Awadh (eastern Uttar Pradesh and parts of Bengal and Nepal), a massive territory that included several river basins and fertile plains and forests and used to supply a large fraction of the grain crop and revenue to the treasury. After establishing his position in Awadh by reconciling, eliminating or defeating most of the forces and eminent personalities against him, Saadat envisaged his own empire and became a power broker to be reckoned with, often dominating over the Mughal Emperor Muhammad Shah “Rangeela” (ruled AD 1719-48) and having complete say in recruitments and promotions of important officials as well as policy-making and execution. Despite the powers vested in him and the troops he commanded, Saadat never enjoyed complete autonomy but continued to rule under the name and with the authority of the Great Mughal.

At the threshold - Looking through the gateway leading to the tomb complex

Saadat didn’t have a son of his own; he brought his nephew Muhammad Muqim Ali Khan from his hometown in Khurasan and married his daughter Khairunissa to him. He also used his influence to have Ali Khan absorbed into the royal army and bestowed the titles “Mirza” (“gentleman”) and “Abul Masnur” (“servant of the victor (that is, emperor)”). Through his hardwork and statesmanship, Ali Khan swiftly rose through the bureaucratic hierarchy and gathered much power and influence in his hands; his skill was admired by the feeble emperor and he was soon granted the coveted position of “Mir-i-Atish” (Artillery commander), a position formerly occupied by his father-in-law. His position made Ali Khan even hungrier for power, he began craving for a degree of autonomy superior to what Saadat could achieve.

Saadat felt betrayed and enraged when the Emperor took several key decisions and made important political appointments while he was under captivity of the Iranian Sultan Nadir Shah who had taken over Lahore after defeating the imperial forces, including Saadat’s courageous army. Treasonably and to dire consequences, Saadat, who had left behind Ali Khan as in-charge of Awadh’s affairs, suggested Nadir to invade Delhi on the grounds that the treasury was overflowing to such an extent that Saadat himself could have paid for Nadir’s entire war expense through his personal salary. Nadir did eventually invade Delhi, reducing the empire to a vassal of Iran and massacring thousands of citizens, stories you can read here – Pixelated Memories - Diwan-i-Khas, Red Fort and here – Pixelated Memories - Sunehri Masjid. Besides reducing the Emperor to the position of a frightened supplicant and carrying away the famed Kohinoor diamond and treasures accumulated over several generations, Nadir also humiliated Saadat and ordered his officials to confiscate Saadat’s personal wealth too. Grieved by the insults and pained by a rapidly-spreading leg cancer, Saadat committed suicide soon afterwards. The appointment of Governors was the prerogative of the Emperor, and the Governors were also frequently transferred to prevent them from building a support base for their larger ambitions – Saadat had refused to be transferred many times and he and Ali Khan had envisaged a strong power base in Awadh and built it to some degree too though their policies and decisions. Ali Khan bribed Nadir Shah Rs 20 million to force the Emperor to name him the new Nawab of Awadh – hereditary succession of Governors was unheard of in the Mughal Empire and this move cemented the existence of the Awadh dynasty.

Overlooked - One of the corner towers along the complex's periphery

Mir-i-Atish Mirza Abul Mansur Muhammad Muqim Ali Khan rose even further and began expanding his influence as well as territory – he swiftly annexed Allahabad into Awadh when the former’s Governor was murdered; the Emperor, impressed by Ali’s management of his domains also gave him the provinces of Agra and Kashmir (the latter he later had transferred to his nephew Muazzam “Sher Jung” (“Lion in Battle”)) to govern – Ali, therefore, was at the same time looking after provinces hundreds of kilometers apart while the weak king wiled his time in dance, music and whoring; he also hired 6000-7000 Shia Qizilbash cavalrymen (Turkish-speaking tribe from Anatolia) from Nadir Shah’s army to strengthen his own forces besides having his army, especially the cavalry, equipped with modern weaponry and learn new tactics under the command of his brother-in-law and Mughal army’s most powerful commander Najaf Khan; he valued the learned and didn’t hesitate from hiring Sunnis taught at the elite institutions of Awadh as adjudicators and judges, though most of the leading families decided to convert to Shia Islam to improve their relations with the Nawab. “Rangeela” had by now given up the use of ruling even in the name and idled his time with partridge and elephant fights, conjurers and jugglers, wives and mistresses, while the aristocracy and generals had given themselves to corruption and frequenting courtesans, poetry events, drinks and opium. Ambitious, efficient and ruthless in decision-making, Ali soon held much of the imperial power, territory and army command in his hand – further to reduce the weight of policy-making and court life on his shoulders, the Emperor (who hadn’t learnt anything from the defeats administered to him by the Persians or Marathas) decreed that Ali Khan, from then on titled “Safdar Jung” (“foremost in battle”) would command most of his armies and execute his decisions in the empire – it was a wonder to the population of the domain that the Emperor was letting a Shia rise to such a powerful position (perhaps because his favorite wife is a Shia, they gossiped), many of the other powerful warlords and courtiers who were Sunni were jealous and enraged but couldn’t do anything against the growing might of Safdarjung except initiate court intrigues and back channel discussions with the intention to have him removed or disgraced.

Behold beauty

In 1745, taking advantage of Safdarjung’s absence, Awadh was overrun by the Afghani Rohilla clan who had settled in his territory; he cobbled together an alliance with the mighty Maratha army to chase away the Rohillas from Awadh and became genuine friends with the Maratha leadership. Rohilla power was curtailed, but not before Safdarjung had plundered and ravaged Farrukhabad, their stronghold. The splendid victory against the forces assembled by the Afghan Rohilla chief Ali Muhammad Khan gained him further popularity and favors. In the year 1748, Safdarjung notably assisted the crown prince Ahmad Shah Bahadur in a battle against the rapidly advancing forces assembled by the Afghan king Ahmed Shah Abdali, impressing the prince enough to promise Safdarjung the coveted position of prime minister when the former became the Emperor. Soon thereafter, Muhammad Shah “Rangeela” passed away following unbearable grief on the death of his friend and prime minister in the battle against Abdali’s forces. Ahmad Shah ascended the throne of Delhi, the capital of an empire that remained only a shadow of its former glory. Safdarjung was called to the capital to help with the affairs of the state; born to a Shia mother (Qudsia Begum), Ahmad Shah had no qualms against having powerful Shia ministers and Governors – he also granted the province of Agra to the trusted Safdarjung who had been often discriminated against by the other officials and Governors on account of his religious beliefs. As a token of appreciation, (and given his influence in the court and contacts in the military) the Emperor made Safdarjung his prime minister (“Wazir-ul-Mamlikat-i-Hindustan”) besides further showing his trust and gratitude by granting the Governorship of Ajmer (Rajasthan) and “Faujdari” (Garrison command) of Haryana to him – Safdarjung thus controlled almost the entire Mughal territory except for some small regions in the Deccan and Delhi. As he consolidated the power and his influence crystallized, he began to grow arrogant and isolated many ministers who were once in his favor, even the Emperor and the imperial family started getting alienated from the administration and began to side with officials who had poisoned their ears against Safdarjung – the ministers couldn’t have used the Shia card since the Emperor’s mother (a very influential lady in the court) too was Shia, so they accused him of high-handedness and corruption. Safdarjung entered into a power struggle with the Sunni Nizams of Hyderabad, one of the largest provinces in the Mughal empire – he began liquidating the posts held by members of the Nizam’s family, even occupied territories that supplied revenue to sustain the armies of his competitors. As a response to the growing financial and military threat that Safdarjung had become, professional assassins were hired by some of the nobles to have him killed but he escaped the attempts on his life. When Safdarjung found out who the nobles were who ordered the botched assassination attempts, he immediately assembled the entire Mughal army at Delhi with the purpose of destroying these nobles and their domains and even requested his friends Marathas to raise further forces in the Deccan; his advances could only be stopped by the Emperor ordering the Nizams to head back to their territories and not to pursue the matter in order to prevent an outright civil war. Regrettably for Safdarjung, the Nizams hadn’t seen the end of it, in 1753 they again entered into a conflict with him and this time there was no stopping Safdarjung to wage a full-scale war against them – the Nizams, Sunnis by faith, raised the banner of religion (“Jihad”) and pronounced Safdarjung a heretic, commanding his Sunni soldiers and officials to desert him – left weak and vulnerable, Safdarjung fought the battle in the streets of Delhi but only to see his soldiers butchered and innocent Shias killed and enslaved in the capital. Safdarjung had to escape fom Delhi under stained circumstances and the threat to his life looming large; the Emperor was forced to curtail all of his privileges and powers and he fell from the enviable position of Wazir – he returned to Awadh which he had always cherished (and converted into a stronghold) even when deputed in Delhi or other parts of the Empire, but the loss of position and power which he so craved took its toll on him and he passed away after physical decline at the young age of 46 in 1754 AD. His son and successor, Nawab Shuja-ud-Daulah convinced the Emperor to allow Safdarjung’s burial in Delhi in the Aliganj-Karbala (present day Jorbagh and B.K. Dutt Colony) area since the Nawabs owned a large estate here and held the belief that the presence of sacred Shia shrines purified the area (the place has been a Shia enclave even before Safdarjung’s time and still is; articles on the shrines will be up soon too). It’s a story for another day that Ahmad Shah was soon murdered by the Wazir who replaced Safdarjung and the empire collapsed even further following massive defeats and ill decisions soon after Safdarjung’s demise.

Intricate stucco work inside the pavilion that (till recently) housed the ASI office

The site that was chosen for the construction of the exquisite but modest tomb is close to the location where Timur “the lame” defeated the last of the weak rulers of the once-invincible Tughlaq dynasty (ruled AD 1320-98) before laying waste to the citadels of Delhi. The dignified tomb sits on a high plinth in the middle of a vast square garden designed in the Mughal charbagh pattern (large square garden divided into four quarters by means of walkways and water canals with the tomb proper in the center) – possessing a fully-evolved onion dome and polygonal minarets attached to each corner of its square structure, the tomb, designed by the Abyssinian architect Bilal Mohammad Khan, boasts of a design that is unique to Delhi’s landscape. The first feature one notices is the elaborately ornamented triple-storied gateway leading to the square complex – above the arched entrance leading within, the plaster is worked in purple, orange and green to generate splendid floral and geometrical patterns that adorn the façade in striking and breathtaking symmetry around the jharokha (“hanging window”) in the middle – promising immediate visual gratification and assuring peace and serenity to those who venture within. A closer inspection also reveals fish motifs near the base of this intricate artwork – fish were the insignia of the house of Awadh. Most of the rooms leading within the massive gateway are locked now but I imagine that once these would have housed soldiers on the lower levels to prevent vandals and thieves from carrying away the expensive lamps and other adornments, while the upper levels perhaps housed families of the guards or even the descendants of Safdarjung themselves! Standing within the great gateway, one feels amazed at the structure of the tomb that the arched walls frame gracefully – though tourists seldom visit this forgotten tomb of one of the most powerful Wazirs of the Mughal dynasty, one still has to spend at least over ten minutes to click the scene without one or the other person stepping in to spoil the entire frame. All sound seems to disappear the moment one steps into the gateway even though the tomb complex stands on the T-junction of two of the busiest arterial roadways in the city.

Unique but not grand - The gateway to the complex

The interiors of the gateway have more exquisite (though monochromatic – pale cream in the central square, orange in the side chambers) artwork in incised plaster to offer – the roof of the central square within the gateway’s span is decorated with a large flower concentric with more floral patterns of different designs; the center of the flower is a small hole that glitters like a star when observed from different angles and different hours of the day; the arched entrances on each side are flanked by multitude of scallop designs while more flower patterns and scallop designs wait visitors in the side chambers. The right-side chamber leads to the complex’s small, triple-domed mosque which is a pleasing structure with its small, striped onion domes, slender cuboidal minarets, pointy finials emerging from floral (not lotus that was the norm) base atop the domes and dark, cool interiors – but visitors are allowed entry to the mosque’s square only on Friday for the prayers and an iron grille blocks the entry the rest of the days (though technically, according to govt. notification, prayers aren’t allowed at monuments, but the mosque should be open for public entry since it is a national monument and an architectural heritage of the citizens). It isn’t possible to click the mosque from the small courtyard since most of it is veiled by the colorful awnings that stretch from side to side to provide shade to the devotees and also since the walls of the numerous chambers that flank the gateway and span the space around the gateway face obscure much of the mosque – these chambers were meant for the students of a madrasa (Islamic seminary) that was commissioned and supported by Safdarjung’s descendants, but now these too have been barred and one of these houses the complex’s ticket counter. In the center of the mosque is a large tank meant for supplying water for the ablutions and it too is responsible for keeping the structure cool even in scorching summer heat. The upper floor of the gateway houses ASI’s library and also provides a superb view of the entire complex but again visitor entry here is prohibited (yeah, that’s what ASI does, lock away most of the monuments when it can’t look after them properly) – I was able to get permission from the guard to have a look within (of course, with one of them breathing down my neck), the books seemed informative but I wasn’t allowed to take any of them from the old bookcase – at least they let me click the tomb from the ledge on the side of the pavilion atop the gateway – the view isn’t comparable to the one afforded from the ground since the striking symmetry of the complex when viewed from a particular position was missing, still am glad I have these clicks (since not many people do!). Each level of the wide gateway has projected eaves (“chajja”) circling the entire built area, and the side leading to the tomb proper has windows adorned with curved Bengali-style roofs.

Close up of the spectacular plasterwork patterns on the gateway

Stepping into the majestic tomb complex, one notices, besides the perfect symmetry, an abundance of flowering trees, palm trees and shrubs – set within a large, manicured lawn and rising high from its huge plinth, the beautiful tomb is a feast for the eyes even though in the derisive opinion of many writers and architects the tomb is architecturally and visually flawed in having a smaller plinth that cannot balance the prominent vertical axis of the mausoleum – to my eyes, the tomb, with its silence and lack of visitors is a boon, I can photograph the place to my heart’s delight without an irreverent tourist stepping into my composition (though there are some tourists here on weekends). The place enjoys an aura of undisturbed serenity that would have been the envy of the nearby Lodi Gardens and Humayun’s Tomb Complex (refer Pixelated Memories - Bada Gumbad Complex, Lodi Gardens and Pixelated Memories - Humayun's Tomb complex) – apart from the ASI people, guards and a few visitors, the only people here are the couples who find solace in each other’s arms (and escape from the city’s prying eyes and the moral brigade’s strict standards) under the numerous trees in the complex grounds (though these are the people responsible for disgracing the mausoleum interiors by scribbling names, dates and love letters and even etching permanent marks on the walls! Thoroughly repulsive and disgusting!). The silence and tranquility is surprising, especially since the tomb complex is hemmed by busy, traffic-choked roads where honking and shouting is the norm instead of an exception.

Lines, arches and well-honed geometric skills - Interiors of the mausoleum

Waterways emanate from the central square where the mausoleum stands in all four directions, but there is not a drop of water in any of them (following rains too, the water is quickly pumped out of the tanks to prevent mosquitoes from breeding); the fountains are in poor state with the rusted steel pipes peeping out of their cement frames towards the top; lack of water in the tanks means that the stairs in the corners of the tank can be accessed and one can step down to look at the tomb from a different perspective. Each side of the square tomb complex, except the one with the gateway, has large, squat pavilions built in the center – these pavilions, christened “Moti Mahal”, “Jangli Mahal” and “Badshah pasand” (“pearl palace”, “palace in forest”, “King’s favorite” respectively, the second is said to be a hunting lodge and hence the name), have been converted into offices and warehouses to store wood, sandstone material and sacks of cements that are to be used in the restoration-conservation work of other monuments. Except for the pavilion that houses the ASI office, the other two are out of bounds for visitors – the former too would soon be out of bounds since the office is being moved out in preparation for the tomb complex’s upcoming UNESCO World Heritage Site bid – and it would be a pity since the pavilion has some of the most intricate incised plasterwork that I have ever seen, and though it has been painted over numerous times and lost much of its detailing, it is still very exquisite and delightful. The “kotla” (enclosure) that circumferences the tomb complex consists of rubble wall with shallow arched alcoves built in it and two corner towers for company – these towers too have been retrofitted with air conditioning units in order to convert them into offices, public entry is prohibited but one can admire their medieval, well-preserved state – though visitors aren’t allowed to venture into the thin strip of tree-covered land that surrounds the enclosure on the outside and separates it from the congested roads, I was able to proceed after getting permission from the supervisor of the guards on account of my research into the tomb complex – the corner towers are in good condition on the outside too with the ornamental niches still prominent and very little sign of degradation. There is a small tank too just outside the enclosure, part of its brick walls have collapsed and where water was stored once, garbage is being dumped now.

Framed - One of the pavilions as seen from within the tomb

In recent times, the tomb complex has also been made disabled-friendly, the first such monument in the country, with ramps built along the front corners to allow wheelchair access and an aluminum information panel in Braille affixed near the entrance gateway along with the usual red sandstone panels – though I feel ramps should also be created in the stairs leading up the plinth, if not along the front face then the back so that nobody is denied the opportunity to explore and adore this amazing structure, especially people with special needs. Moreover, the steps are built in Mughal style with each being approx. 10 inches high and even old people find it difficult to climb them. Though plans to restore the water channels and the fountains to working condition have been in the pipeline for over an year, the discovery of the original drainage system buried under earth and vegetation has given it a new impetus. This is in addition to the night-time lightning of the tomb complex that was installed in several monuments located along arterial roads for the Commonwealth Games 2010 that were hosted by Delhi (though I have no idea how frequently and in which monuments are these lights used now that the games are over – everywhere I went, the lights seemed to be buried under thick layers of dust and dry leaves and in one place, wheat flour left by the locals for the resident ants (feeding ants is considered spiritually rewarding in Hinduism))

The Wazir rests eternally

The splendid, monumental tomb, built out of red sandstone and white marble has an imposing aura of grace and prettiness despite all its obvious faults, the most glaring of which is the inelegant interspersing of white marble with pink stone on its massive onion dome – though most travel blogs and scholars claim that the dynasties – both Mughal and Awadh – had fallen to such a poor state of existence at the time of construction of the tomb that they had no financial backing to support the commissioning of such a grand and extravagant structure and hence were forced to pillage marble from the pre-existing tomb of Abdul Rahim Khan-i-Khanan (refer - Pixelated Memories - Abdul Rahim Khan-i-Khanan's Tomb) and the marble from Rahim’s tomb too ran out, necessitating the use of pink sandstone patchwork. Those who have visited Rahim’s tomb would obviously point out that it is far larger than Safdarjung’s relatively modest mausoleum, the dome area is bigger and therefore the question of marble running out doesn’t arise – but the important and more perplexing question is that Awadh was amongst the richest empires in the country, supplying the entire land with grains and revenue, why then were they unable to complete to tomb they so adoringly began to build for the dynasty’s second Nawab – my guess is that, given the massiveness of the mausoleum and the complexity of the artwork involved, the construction couldn’t have been completed in less than 3-4 years and came to a halt in the period leading up to 1758 when the Maratha forces invaded Delhi and forced the Mughals to accept Maratha regency while continuing guerrilla warfare against the other states (Nawab Shuja-ud-Daulah was the prime minister to the Mughal Emperor and would have definitely faced repercussions from the Emperor too for failing to safeguard the territories from his political and military allies) – on later resumption of work, the architects and masons had to quickly make do with whatever material was available or could be sourced from nearby.

Drenched in light - Perhaps the most adorned sarcophagus in Delhi

The imposing double-storied tomb consists of eight chambers, the central one housing the Wazir’s sarcophagus (the mortal remains of Safdarjung and his beloved Khairunissa are in a crypt below the ornamental sarcophagus though) with a large rectangular chamber along each of the sides and small octagonal chambers along the corners. Staircases hidden into the plinth lead up to the tomb level and the tomb interiors can be accessed from two of the sides via flights of stairs. Each of the side room is decorated with rococo plasterwork culminating into floral designs, arches and scallop patterns at the flank of each large flower (note carefully, the designs are different in adjacent chambers). The corner rooms have relatively plain interiors with the walls tapering towards the roof which is decorated with a simple floral medallion in the center and small alcoves built in each face – it is here that one does feel to some extent that the tomb has been built with stone stripped from other tombs since the walls have been raised by fitting together sandstone slabs of different sizes into a patchwork pattern. Interestingly, unlike most tombs, some of the chambers here have air shafts in the corner though all you can see in them is a dark arched tunnel carved roughly and ingrained thoroughly with dust and spider webs. About the comparison with the more formal Humayun’s Tomb or Taj Mahal, Mr Dalrymple states –

“The longer you look, the more the qualities and character of the tomb become apparent and the clearer is that the architect was not simply trying to imitate Taj and failing. He had another, quite different aesthetic he was aiming to achieve – a sort of blowy Mughal rococo. His design was the product of another age with very different, more eccentric tastes. The tomb shows how the aesthetes of the age of Safdarjung liked their gateways to be as ornately sculpted as their prose was purple; how they preferred their onion domes to be over-extended and tapered; how they thought the interior of a tomb incomplete unless covered with a rococo riot of elaborate plasterwork.”

The poster I designed for Delhi Instagramer's Guild Instawalk

Stepping in to the central chamber is a visual delight unto itself – the magnificence of the finely polished, white marble sarcophagus (the most beautiful in Delhi) is matched only by the intricate patterns in limestone plaster that cover the walls, especially near the base of the dome – while the dome itself consists of concentric floral patterns spanned by numerous straight lines to create a symmetrical, well-executed geometric pattern, the windows on each side and squinches on each corner adding further charm with their curved roofs and ornamental pillars – the wonder is how each point in the mausoleum is symmetrical to other points and together they all merge to create an exquisite web of lines, curves, flowers and indentations. It isn’t just enough to observe the details, one feels the urge to look at the patterns from different perspectives and angles, especially when photographing – I took several shots from every conceivable point in the tomb, even sitting next to the sarcophagus and wedged in the corner amidst spider webs that clung to my hair and clothes! I have to concede that with its superior multiform patterns and the riot of stucco work to show for, the tomb has become a favorite over Humayun’s Tomb – so much for the reviews in all the books and websites – there is so much to see, why won’t someone be impressed by the designs and the skills of the artists and the craftsmen who executed this piece of architectural and artistic magnificence?! Even the floor shows the signs of (now non-existent) pietra dura inlay consisting of colorful stone embedded in the marble – to those who say that the treasury was depleted and the dome couldn’t be completed because of financial constraints, I ask there was enough money for the lavish plasterwork and opulent stone inlay, but not for building a dome? There has to be another reason behind it, one that was either never documented or has been obscured in the pages of history.

Bewitching - Looking up at the tomb's dome

The four entrances of the central chamber are built such that they throw sheets of light within so a cross forms from entrance to entrance with the corners sheathed in darkness and the brilliant white sarcophagus shimmering because of the four-fold light drenching it. The acoustics within the central chamber are amazing, even normal conversational tone gets magnified several times; the polygonal towers on each corner are lined with thin white marble strips and possess a chattri (domed kiosk) on the top; a sandstone parapet curtain stretches from chattri to chattri while each face has a rectangular emboss (in which the arched entrance is set) that is raised both vertically and horizontally with respect to the rest of the wall, vertically ending in slender turrets with a line of miniature domes between them – the whole set up perfectly obscures the sixteen-sided drum on which the massive dome rests, only the top curve of the drum can be made out and that too by the most discerning eye.

Set in the heart of Delhi, the tomb, little known and seldom remembered, is a tribute both to the influence that Safdarjung wielded in the rapidly disintegrating empire as well as to the spirit of mankind to rise against all setbacks and discriminations to achieve a position of superiority as Safdarjung and Saadat Khan did. The tomb would be a surprise to those who have been to the simple but elaborate muhajjar (tomb enclosure open to sky) of Safdarjung’s master, Muhammad Shah “Rangeela” – in an age when even Emperors were forced to rest in simplistic, unadorned tombs for lack of funds, here was the prime minister whose descendants built such a splendid edifice to house his last remains. Lending its name to an airport, an arterial road, an entire residential and commercial enclave and to one of the foremost hospitals in the capital, the tomb epitomizes Safdarjung’s capabilities as well as the turbulent period that the Indian subcontinent was experiencing, best summed in Dalrymple’s own words –

“Safdarjung’s life encapsulates perfectly the intriguing but cataclysmic half century that linked the Mughal high noon with the decay and disintegration of the twilight fifty years later.”

Location: At the T-junction of Lodhi Road and Aurobindo Road, approx. 3 kilometers from the renowned Safdarjung hospital and bus stop
Nearest Metro Station: Jorbagh
Nearest Bus stop: Safdarjung Madrasa
How to reach: The tomb complex is only a 100 meters from the metro station. If coming by bus, deboard at AIIMS stop and from there it's more convenient to take metro to Jorbagh which is only 2 metro stops away.
Entrance Fee: Rs 5 (for citizens of India and neighboring countries); Rs 100 (others); free entry for children up to 15 years of age.
Facilities available: Toilets, parking space, wheelchair access, drinking water (though the water cooler, placed at the gateway, is infested with bees and is best avoided; carry water bottles instead or buy water from the trolley outside the complex)
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