Pixelated Memories: Monument

Showing posts with label Monument. Show all posts

May 16, 2016

Dadabari Jain Temple, Mehrauli, Delhi

“No man can encompass all that is to be known. The wisest among us can hold no more than a mustard seed’s weight of knowledge in his heart. But nevertheless each follower of the path has his own particular understanding, and each person’s understanding has value.”

– Thalassa Ali, “Companions of Paradise” (2006)

The streets blistered and roasted like fiery furnaces and not the slightest draught stirred, while the sun, an insufferable ball of fire in the clear sky, transformed into intense searing white and ceaselessly endeavored to incinerate all existence. It was a day not unlike any other in Delhi’s scorching summer.

Amidst the multitudes of singed brown-green hues of Mehrauli Archaeological Park manifests mirage-like Dadabari Jain temple – dedicated to the erudite Jain mystic-saint Manidhari Dada Gurudeva Sri Jinachandra Suri ji – whose flawless white profile unfailingly soothes dreary eyes and beckons fatigued souls.

Jewel in the wilderness

At the very outset, I insist that only believers read on, and skeptics and cynics skip these few paragraphs.

A prodigious scholar, inquisitive philosopher and excellent social reformer, Sri Jinachandra Suri, born Surya Kumar in AD 1140, is said to have renounced the comforts of conventional life at the tender age of 6 years, and thereafter arduously trained and distinguished himself in Jain religious philosophy and metaphysics.

He compiled numerous scholarly tomes on comparative religious theology and spirituality, and soon afterwards became so illustriously renowned that he was entrusted by Acharya Gurudeva Jindutta Suri ji, his transcendentally accomplished spiritual mentor, with delivering intellectual spiritual discourses on religious mysticism, universal brotherhood and philanthropic magnanimity throughout the country.

Although Acharya Jindutta and he himself had prophesied his arrival and subsequent demise in Yoginipur (Delhi), he nonetheless resolved to temporarily reside in the province to discourse on religious equality, tolerance and amicability upon receiving deferential invitations from the sovereign Raja Madanpal Tomar.

Inviting

During his residence in Yoginipur, he is said to have also commissioned a beautiful temple, dedicated to the legendary twenty-third Tirthankara Parshvanatha (BC 872-772), at the present-day site of the Qutb Complex (refer Pixelated Memories - Qutb Complex).

At the age of 26, prompted by clairvoyant visions only slightly prior to his mournful demise, he resolutely cautioned his emotionally-besieged disciples to not stop his funeral procession anywhere except where they wished to cremate his earthly remains, for if they did they would never be able to relocate his body again. Fatigued and desirous of allowing fellow devotees to pay their last respects and condolences for the demised, the faithful followers carrying the funeral pyre did however stop in the village square and, as portended, failed to move the remains again! Reminiscent of the childish tale of Humpty-Dumpty, subsequently the king’s soldiers, horses and even elephants are said to have failed in their endeavors to budge him, and thus was Dada Gurudeva ji cremated on that very spot and a commemorative shrine reverentially constructed over the consecrated site.

Blinding!

Additionally, it’s said that he had also portended that the sacred site where he’d be cremated shall remain barren for 800 years, and indeed a magnificent shrine was only consecrated here in late 19th-century. Repeatedly embellished and reconstructed since, an intricately ornamented silver-and-glass memorial gracefully protrudes over the hallowed site today, symmetrically enveloped by covered walkways for faithful devotees to circumambulate.

Only a stone’s throw away, the massive central shrine is elegantly fabricated of exquisitely sculpted white marble. Within, the glittering glimmering sanctum is in its entirety composed of a spellbinding agglomeration of meticulously reverse-painted glass shards whose myriad shimmering hues compliment and yet jostle with each other for visual supremacy amidst a whole that remarkably, without being even in the slightest bit incongruous or disproportionate, succeeds in delineating several visual depictions of Jain mythological fables and remembrances of Dada Gurudeva’s enthralling, albeit possibly highly embellished, life and times. As the photographs here testimony, magnificently does the whole chamber metamorphose, upon incidence of even the minutest sliver of sunlight, into an extraordinarily effervescent explosion of vivacious colors.

One from the folklore

Perhaps endeavoring to plagiarize the spatial scheme of the venerable Parasnatha Hill in Jharkhand (at least to me it appeared so!), adjacently has been conceived a large artificial hillock whose constricted veins secure a labyrinthine network of tiny interconnected cell-like sanctuaries, each individually dedicated to Jain mendicant-teachers and Tirthankars (lit., “ford-maker”, omniscient spiritual teachers who attained liberty from the terrible cycle of rebirths and worldly attachment by fierce contemplative meditation, unremitting emphasis on non-violence, and the renunciation of worldly relationships and responsibilities).

Though the shimmering vividness of the shrine’s reverse-painted glass art might be commonplace in most north Indian Jain/Hindu temples, yet given its impeccable history and the singular network of shrines defining the artificial hill, it is surprising that not many are aware of the existence of this multicolored sparkle enveloped within its soothing white cocoon adjacent the perceptibly interminable wilderness of Mehrauli Archaeological Park.

Cherubs, blossoms and wreaths - Unusual for a Jain shrine!

In every direction one turns to are located innumerable medieval monuments and devoutly revered shrines, some world-renowned, others even more disappointingly obscure. The simplistic yet alluring Madhi Masjid is barely a stone's throw away (refer Pixelated Memories - Madhi Masjid). More prominent is Ahinsa Sthal, another Jain shrine, and its neighbor mausoleum of Azim Khan, both constructed upon adjacently situated towering outcrops appealingly overlooking the green-brown expanse of Mehrauli (refer Pixelated Memories - Ahinsa Sthal and Pixelated Memories - Azim Khan's Tomb). No wonder then amidst this deluge of enthralling ruins and forgotten monuments, the Dadabari is only half-remembered and occasionally frequented.

Open: All days, sunrise to sunset

Nearest Metro station: Qutb Minar

How to reach: The temple is located in a nondescript street on the other side of Mehrauli-Gurgaon highway immediately opposite the metro station. If coming by bus, get down at Lado Serai crossing (at the junction of Mehrauli-Gurgaon and Mehrauli-Badarpur highways) and walk for barely half a kilometer to reach the metro station.

Entrance fees: Nil
Photography/video charges: Nil
Time required for sightseeing: 45 min

Note: Footwear isn’t allowed within the temple complex and can be deposited at the small kiosk across the road from the entrance.
Relevant links -
Other monuments/landmarks located in the immediate vicinity -

February 17, 2016

Loharheri Baoli, Dwarka Sector-12, Delhi

“Hogi is dher imaarat ki kahani kuch to,

Dhund alfaz ke malbe me ma’ine kuch to”

(“Surely a story hides behind these ruins somewhere,

Search the debris of words, the meaning is there somewhere”)

– Shahpar Rusool, Urdu Professor,

Jamia Milia Islamia University, Delhi

Bubbling with fantastically-conceived hyperbolic tales and mythology, oral folklore always conceals within its spellbinding florid exaggerations thoroughly disguised minute kernels of truth which resiliently resist, and often irreversibly shatter, even the most endeavoring communal forgetfulness and/or malicious attempts to whitewash history.

Comprised of huge staircases leading down to deep vertical shafts of associated wells, “baolis” (step-wells) are massive medieval water-management and congregational monuments majestically scattered throughout northern and western-central India. Considering their limited numbers and unparalleled ornamental adornments, they are unquestionably and quite conspicuously the most cherished monuments vis-à-vis the multitudes of contemporaneous religious and funerary edifices, extravagantly opulent palaces and formidable fortress-strongholds littering the immense landscape.

Substantially smaller than most of its magnificent counterparts intermittently peppering the city, the recently-discovered Lodi-era (AD 1451-1526) baoli in Dwarka’s Sector-12 is historically believed to have been christened “Loharheri Baoli”, deriving from the contiguous presence of a small settlement of ironsmiths (“lohar”) whose hydrological and congregational requirements the tiny edifice was to fulfill. Perplexingly though, this satellite suburb would have been considerably distant from the extensive settlements of medieval Delhi whom the ironsmiths would have professionally catered. Fortunately for the enthralling step-well, this historical anomaly renders it one of the few medieval monuments in this part of the city (the only other, that too several kilometers away, is the desolately forgotten and grievously brutalized Hastsal Minar delineating the ruinous remains of Mughal Emperor Shahjahan’s hunting estate (refer Pixelated Memories - Kaushal Minar, Uttam Nagar)).

Lost and found

Walking the unclogged, strangely sanitized streets of Dwarka – almost reminiscent of post-apocalyptic, post-humanity scenes from science fiction movies – feels singularly bizarre and a tad bit bewildering. Unlike the rest of terribly overpopulated, thoroughly urbanized and ubiquitously commercialized west Delhi, minutes pass here before one spots another pedestrian walking purposelessly or expectantly sniffing around buildings, vehicles seldom blare horns, and the colossal multi-storied soaring residential buildings too are unbelievably distantly spaced and uniquely designed.

Accessed via a narrow wicket-gate puncturing the high walls enveloping the towering Gangotri Apartments whose peripheries it discreetly, in fact almost invisibly, adjoins, presently the extensively restored and impeccably maintained three-tiered baoli is existential within a vast garbage-carpeted barren tract of land sporadically shrouded here and there by sorry-looking miserable tufts of weeds and grass irrepressibly rising from amidst the collected assortment of foul-smelling plant and vegetable waste, an overabundance of cow dung and dog droppings, innumerable polythene bags filled with domestic non-biodegradable rubbish, discarded construction material, and worthless shards of glass and plastic glinting in the sunlight.

Although the Gangotri complex and Dwarka International School prominently located barely a stone’s throw away are not insignificant landmarks, the bewildered locals, it seemed, faced insurmountable difficulties either comprehending my modest intentions or offering directions, consequentially sending me on a to-and-fro walk in search of the elusive baoli which being an unadorned, rubble masonry-built underground monument is easy to miss even from the immediate vicinity.

“In India it is not a good idea to ask just one person’s opinion, especially as far as directions are concerned. Not wishing to appear discourteous or unhelpful, they will say the first thing that comes into their head rather than honestly and far more usefully admitting that they do not know. It is best to ask as many people as possible and opt for the majority view. This does not necessarily mean that you will then be going in the right direction – it just gives you a slightly better chance of doing so. We therefore asked as many people as possible but we still ended up lost.”

– Josie Dew, “The Wind in My Wheels” (1992)

First impressions

Moderately proportioned and truly parched owing to the disastrous lowering of water-table over the centuries, the mesmerizing edifice was conveniently forgotten and interred underneath layers of earth and thick undergrowth, which culminated in its unsurprising obscurity and disappearance from contemporary literary records and monument censuses. Like its almost similarly designed cousin associated with the Wazirpur group of monuments in R.K. Puram (refer Pixelated Memories - Wazirpur Monument complex), this beautiful rectangular edifice too possesses immaculate rows of ornamental alcoves lining the longer sides along its two levels. There isn’t however any other functional feature or artistic adornment perceptible, except the presence of the likewise-dry circular well-shaft hugging its rear. Unexpectedly though, especially considering the perennial paucity of heritage enthusiasts and touristic visitors and the wretched uncleanliness of its surroundings, not the slightest trace of garbage can be noticed anywhere within the baoli's earmarked area – certainly a most commendable achievement on the part of Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) and Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage (INTACH) which restored the edifice and Delhi Development Association (DDA) to whom this tract of land belongs.

Isolated case?

Location: Pocket-1, Sector-12 Dwarka

How to reach: Walk/avail an auto/rickshaw to Gangotri Apartments/Dwarka International School from Dwarka Sector-12 Metro station which is about a kilometer and a half away. If walking, head towards Hotel Radisson Blu and take a left turn from there. The small baoli is located about a kilometer from this point on the right side of the arterial road in a vast barren expanse in the very shadow of Gangotri Apartments.

Entrance fees: Nil

Photography/Video charges: Nil

Time required for sightseeing: 20 min

Relevant Links -

Another monument located in the neighborhood - Pixelated Memories - Kaushal Minar, Uttam Nagar

Other baolis in the city -

Suggested reading -

January 03, 2016

Kaushal Minar, Hastsal village, Delhi

“I do not deny the glamour of the name of Delhi or the stories that cling about its dead and forgotten cities. But I venture to say this, that if we want to draw happy omens for the future the less we say about the history of Delhi the better... We know that the whole environment of Delhi is a mass of deserted ruins and graves, and they present to the visitor, I think, the most sorrowful picture you can conceive of the mutability of human fortunes.”

– Lord Curzon, Viceroy and Governor-General of India, 1899-1905

Reminiscent of the monolith from Arthur C. Clarke's "Space Odyssey" series!

According to numerous convoluted mythological tales as recorded in Mahabharata, unquestionably the most enigmatic of the ancient Hindu epics, Delhi was the enviable site of “Indraprastha” (literally “City of Indra” (Indra being the God of war, lightning and thunderstorms and the chief of the numerous deities collectively invoked in the Hindu pantheon)), the magnificent fortified capital of the mythical Pandava brothers. Its contemporary twin citadel was “Hastinapura” (“City of Elephants”) whose very nomenclature indelibly references the widespread presence of immense hordes of massive pachyderms roaming about and being extraordinarily well-domesticated as majestic beasts involved with religion, warfare and royal impressionism. Surprisingly though, remarkably few inhabitants of the rapidly urbanizing metropolitan are aware that vast territories within the city’s expansionist peripheries were even in medieval ages densely vegetated forestlands thickly inhabited with hundreds of fascinating species of flora and fauna. Nonetheless, tales of this long forgotten environmental history do survive in popular folktales and local lore – point in case, the tranquilly laidback, commercially underdeveloped and visually kaleidoscopic urban village of Hastsal (a corruption of “Hast Sthal” (“Land of Elephants”)) where it’s said existed enormous lakes encircled by impenetrable woodlands which constituted an immense elephant corridor.

No elephants anymore! - Hastsal village

Presently accessible via Uttam Nagar metro station and regular bus and Grameen Seva cab services from the soaring residential enclaves of Uttam Nagar, Janakpuri, Vikaspuri, Nangloi Jat and Najafgarh, the urban village, essentially an agglomeration of vividly painted, box-like multistoried residential buildings intermittently interspersed by hole-in-the-wall shop stores, painstakingly endeavors to vertically dominate and entirely camouflage its viciously avaricious brutality towards what might be considered its golden egg-laying goose – the Kaushal Minar, also otherwise referred to as Hastsal Minar and Chota Qutb Minar, a 17-meter (55 feet) high minaret commissioned in AD 1650 by Mughal Emperor Shahjahan (reign AD 1627-57) which is wretchedly enveloped in its entirety by urban encroachments, rubble remains of obliterated residential annexes and a perennially multiplying rubbish dump so much so that it is next to impossible to observe and photograph its physical enormity from the immediate vicinity and one has to eventually resort to sneakily climb up peoples’ rooftops to better appreciate its mammoth proportions.

Caged beauty!

Access to the high platform on which toweringly rises the precariously ruined monument is now restricted to a grimy half meter wide staircase littered with plastic garbage and domestic vegetable refuse, however what the archaeological authorities forgot to take into account was the resourcefulness of the ingenious locals, many of whom have imaginatively designed their dingy warren-hole of houses such that the staircases and balconies literally skirt the soaring tapering structure. Considered originally to be five floors high and constituting a not insignificant fraction of a gorgeous hunting pavilion where rested the royally-entertained emperor and his immediate retinue following adrenaline-tripping chase and hunt in the forsaken center of all-encompassing wilderness, the colossal minaret, locally known as “Laat” (pillar/staff), is a very sorry picture of its erstwhile regal grandeur – a deplorable condition it grievously shares with its better renowned Shahjahan-era cousins, the Red Fort and the Jama Masjid, which too are sadly existential as heartlessly degraded mere skeletons of their original opulent splendor (refer Pixelated Memories - Jama Masjid and Pixelated Memories - Red Fort).

Yes, it is indeed a protected monument! Why would you think otherwise?!

The upper two floors and the chattri (umbrella dome surmounted on slender pillars) crowning the majestic tower are said to have collapsed somewhere in the 18th-century. Notwithstanding the epithet “Chota Qutb Minar” referencing the more renowned, ethereally ornamented victory tower in another distant part of the city (refer Pixelated Memories - Qutb Minar), the Hastsal minaret doesn’t really invoke any particular visual or historic reminiscences of the former and doesn’t share any transcendental decorative features except that it too, like all minarets, is a minaret. Adorned with a single row of flawless white marble highlights, the vibrant red sandstone tapering structure was conceived fluted throughout with alternate circular and angular projections, however it can unquestionably be considered the most modestly ornamented both architecturally and artistically, in fact almost soberly bare, vis-à-vis the aforementioned dazzlingly flamboyant monuments that Shahjahan conceived and commissioned as well as his magnum at Agra, the unparalleled Taj Mahal which mere words are explicably hard put to describe.

Enroute to the minaret, there are bustling bazaars not any different from most others that dot Delhi’s other residential enclaves and sectors, thoroughly crowded with pedestrians, shoppers and motorcyclists and teeming with multi-hued shops (festooned unerringly with glittering glimmering hoarding and shimmering tinsel) offering stationery, confectionery, gold jewelry, everyday necessities, pharmaceuticals, utensils, brassware and the like.

Piercing the skyline

The strangely sanitized scene within the small urban village is however vastly different from the rest of the perpetually crowded city – as if relentlessly endeavoring to smother it in concentric hugs, most of the narrow streets curving around the monument are so congested that automobiles cannot possibly whizz about and thus in their absence there exists an undisguised crystalline silence, an unusual bubble of undisturbed tranquility in the midst of ceaseless noise and remorseless destruction and recreation. At least for me, following an often frustratingly indecipherable zigzagging treasure hunt, it proved to be indescribably exciting to spot the colossal sandstone enormity peeping from behind differently colored buildings and then circle the seemingly concentric, narrow streets and promising looking cul-de-sacs in an eventually fruitful attempt to discover the minaret’s base. Only an infinitesimal number of people outside Hastsal are privy to the existence of this medieval monument – sadly however, as irrefutably evidenced by the beautiful structure’s pitifully aggrieved existence as a dump yard mercilessly encroached upon on all extremities, the locals irresponsibly take for granted the privileged view appreciable only from their terraces.

Howdy, neighbor?

Open: All days, sunrise to sunset

Location: Hastsal village, near Uttam Nagar in west Delhi (Coordinates: 28°38'01.9"N 77°03'26.1"E)
Nearest Metro station: Uttam Nagar (West), approximately 1.2 kilometers away

Nearest Bus stop: Hastsal village. Regular bus and Grameen Seva shared cab services are available from nearby Uttam Nagar, Janakpuri, Vikaspuri, Nangloi Jat and Najafgarh.
How to reach: Walk/avail a rickshaw from the bus stop/metro station. Ask locals for the "laat" and they will quickly provide the requisite directions.
Entrance fees: Nil
Photography/Video charges: Nil
Time required for sightseeing: 20 min
Relevant links -
Other landmarks located in the vicinity -

Other Shahjahan-era monuments in Delhi -

Suggested reading -

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 -

September 23, 2015

Madhi Masjid, Mehrauli, Delhi

“Delhi: delirious city, city of the tense present, future imperfect. Yes, it’s easy to criticize. It is sprawling, aggressive, authoritarian, water-starved, paranoid, and has had so many facelifts that you can get lost on your own street.. It’s frequently tasteless, materialistic, immensely inegalitarian, environmentally destructive, and full of faintly lecherous men. Its weather is diabolical, it can be ludicrously expensive, and often it smells. Oh, and its monkeys occasionally carry out savage and unprovoked attacks, just to liven things up.”

– Elizabeth Chatterjee, “Delhi: Mostly Harmless” (2013)

Out of sight, out of mind, so the saying goes. Located in the very shadow of the immensely renowned World Heritage Site of Qutb complex (refer Pixelated Memories - Qutb Complex) and then too immediately opposite the perennially crowded Qutb Minar metro station adjacent the arterial, heavily traffic-clogged Mehrauli-Gurgaon highway, one of Delhi’s most ornately ornamented and enigmatic medieval edifices is miserably relegated to a forgotten existence in the forlorn realm of dejectedly stunted wilderness, governmental hypocrisy and cultural indifference.

Madhi Masjid - Delhi's forgotten monument

Gracefully seated upon its immensely high plinth in far-flung urban village of Mehrauli and chronologically dated to the architecturally outstanding short-lived reign of the Lodi Dynasty (ruled AD 1451-1526), little is known about the commissioning and construction of the beautiful Madhi Masjid which seamlessly and singularly fuses the characteristics of both a wall mosque (“qibla”) and a covered mosque (“mihrab”) through the employment of a short span of beautifully decorated wall mosque flanked symmetrically on either side by two identical stretches of low rectangular buildings functioning in the capacity of miniature covered mosques. The entire bewitching facade is profusely adorned with tiny ornamental alcoves, a strip of vivid blue glazed tiles that till date retain their spellbinding brilliance, small serrated star-shaped depressions, slender elegant minarets, exquisite plasterwork medallions inscribed with Quranic calligraphy and geometric patterns, finely-described “kangura” patterns (battlement-like leaf motif ornamentation) and a line of slightly slanting eaves (“chajja”) supported upon seemingly heavy stone brackets. Each rectangular chamber is pierced by three arched entrances and their roofs, though externally perfectly flat, are marked corresponding each squat entrance by three concave domes along their interiors which are supported on rudimentarily simplistic honeycomb brackets. Towards the rear, the corners are fortified with immensely thick conical towers.

Simplicity!

The entire structure and the enormous open-to-sky congregation space adjoining it (peppered by two immense rectangular protrusions, possibly grave markers) stand on a massive platform accessible via an impressive perfectly-proportioned cubical gateway adorned with an identical smattering of detailed embellishments – traces of vivid blue glazed tile patterns, exquisite plasterwork medallions inscribed with calligraphy, finely-described “kangura” patterns and overhanging windows (“jharokha”) surmounted by melon-like fluted domes. The Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) has done a remarkably commendable job in conserving the monument, restoring its numerous ornamental features and maintaining the tiny grass-covered space abutting its gateway, though sadly, in the absence of any visitors, the entire plot wears an appearance of heartbreaking desolation and deafening seclusion interrupted only by the occasional sojourns of the devout locals who sprinkle the courtyard with large lumps of sugar and jaggery for the resident swarms of insects and terrifyingly large hornets to consume – possible owing to some belief originating from superstitions regarding the mosque’s benevolence in return for offerings for its thousands of tiny inhabitants.

Sophistication!

Sadly though, nobody ever leaves fruits and sweets for the menacing local monkey who has in vengeful reciprocation begun to resort to ferociously mauling the visitors. Thankfully, the ASI guard with his (seemingly useless!) bamboo stick does look over the occasional visitor enthusiastic about climbing the mosque’s roof and observing the panorama of the vast green forest extending all around this tiny oasis of permanent rubble, forgotten religious consecration and new found superstitions.

Eeeks!

Open: All days, sunrise to sunset
Location: In the narrow lane immediately opposite Qutb Minar metro station across Anuvrat Marg (Mehrauli-Gurgaon highway) (Coordinates: 28°30'53.8"N 77°11'06.7"E)
Nearest Metro station: Qutb Minar
Nearest bus stop: Qutb Minar metro station
How to reach: The mosque is located immediately across Qutb Minar metro station. One can also walk from Lado Serai crossing if coming by bus from Badarpur side.
Entrance fees: Nil
Photography/Video charges: Nil
Time required for sightseeing: 30 min
Relevant Links -
Other monuments/landmarks located in the immediate vicinity -

September 10, 2015

Adham Khan's Tomb and Mehrauli PHC, Delhi

“Through me the way is to the city dolent; Through me the way is to the eternal dole;

Through me the way among the people lost;

Justice incited my sublime Creator; Created me divine Omnipotence,

the highest Wisdom and the primal Love;

Before me there were no created things, Only eterne, and I eternal last.
All hope abandon, ye who enter!”

– Dante Alighieri, 13th-century Italian poet, “Inferno”

Regarded as the oldest continuously inhabited area in the entire city, Mehrauli can be unquestionably considered as an unbelievable visual confluence of unimaginably desolate medieval monuments and a rapid groundswell of burgeoning urbanization and shimmering modernization engaged in a mighty clash so extraordinarily slow progressed that compared to the rest of the cityscape this entire area literally appears to have been transformed into a photographic frame struck in time eons ago allowing viewers a brief, uninterrupted glimpse into the idyllic life that was without any pretensions of relentless concrete and cement development, obnoxious pollution and miserable deforestation.

Behold enormity! - The mausoleum of Maham Anga and Adham Khan

Scattered around the area are hundreds of monuments – some exceedingly beautifully ornamented, some painstakingly perched upon high near-unpassable eyries, some quite humiliatingly submerged underneath an onslaught of years of accumulated stinking sludge and everyday excreta, some unassuming edifices relatively well-maintained either by the government or a religious organization as a ruin of heritage importance or a sacred shrine or a commemorative edifice, and lastly, a few depressingly decrepit monuments taken over by the local community which, like the dedicated memory of ancient days, continue to function as community centers where locals would everyday converge and share gossip of daily business and happenings occurring in the neighborhood. In this part of the country, opposite Mehrauli bus terminal, different facets of everyday life, the different modes, the different professions can be discerned in the very streets – anticipating business and cursing the sweltering summer heat or the biting winter cold, there are the fruit and vegetable sellers, the flowers and garland sellers, the plumbers, laborers, electricians, masons, the cigarette and betel leave sellers, the beggars, the eunuchs, the rickshaw drivers, the street cleaners, the garbage collectors, the prostitutes, the pimps, the policemen and the pickpockets, the unemployed, the old and the disabled, the ear cleaners, the car washers, the laundrymen and the newspaper men – one can see each of them, attired and arrayed in the bustling, perennially crowded marketplace.

Painted perfection!

Magnificently protruding from the ground like a massive towering overlord, overlooking this continuous flow of people and professions for the past half a millennium, is the visually prominent enormous cream-white mausoleum of Mirza Adham Khan, a foster brother of the Mughal Emperor Jalaluddin Akbar (reign AD 1556-1605), whose life seems so incorrigibly entwined with that of numerous other protagonists interred in different parts of the graceful city that his tale, despite its emotionally disturbing and barbaric overtones, is unarguably one of the most frequently heard. Adham Khan and Quli Khan (also buried nearby, refer Pixelated Memories - Quli Khan's Tomb) were the adored sons of Maham Anga, the favored foster mother of the Emperor. Much to Maham Anga's undisguised chagrin, the Emperor immensely respected Shamshuddin Atgah Khan, the husband of his other foster mother Jiji Anga, sought his opinion in all important decisions and in AD 1562 raised him to the coveted position of “Wakil” (“Chief Minister”) thereby allowing him to investigate and document the military excesses and financial embezzlement perpetrated by Adham as an army General – infuriated, the latter brutally murdered Atgah Khan in cold blood and then, blinded alike with fury and fear of the consequences of his unsavory actions, burst upon the bewildered Emperor with his sword unsheathed, prompting the infuriated Emperor to immediately have him arrested and thrown down the ramparts of his fortress in Agra, twice for good measure – several historians argue that the incensed Emperor, thus provoked and yet grievously confused since Adham was his own esteemed milk-brother, himself threw him down to ensure his immediate demise.

Sigh! When will this city ever learn?

This however wasn’t the first time that the uncontrollable Adham had got into administrative and disciplinary troubles with the Emperor – legend has it that it that when the Emperor’s armies led by his valiant generals were furthering his expansionist policies and annexing small kingdoms in different parts of the country, Adham would capture a territory for him and enslave all the women in the captured land to add them to his own harem – such was his terror that women in the conquered kingdoms preferred to commit suicide rather than face him. Predictably, he invaded the kingdom of Malwa in central India under the Emperor’s banner, massacred its armies and killed the king Baz Bahadur (literally “Brave Hawk”) – however, before he could touch their Queen Roopmati with whom he had fallen in love, she committed suicide (“Jauhar”) by jumping into the pyre lit for her husband’s cremation – furious and desirous of vengeance, Adham unleashed a vicious pogrom and killed hundreds of innocent inhabitants of Malwa until the Emperor was forced to himself march to Malwa with a large army led by Azim Khan, another of his numerous mighty Generals (also buried nearby, refer Pixelated Memories - Azim Khan's Tomb), to subdue Adham who was then defeated, ordered not to lead any military campaigns in the near future and his territorial and executive powers curtailed for a period of time. Killing Atgah Khan however was to be the last indiscretion on the part of Adham – neither filial love nor the unmatched influence of his ambitious mother could save him from the Emperor’s wrath.

Dominating Delhi's skyline - Qutb Minar

Bereaved beyond measure and consolation despite putting up a brave front (she notably exclaimed to the Emperor “You have done well” when he recounted to her the events leading to Adham’s gruesome execution), Maham Anga, whose health was already failing for the past several months, too died mere forty days later pining for her treasured son and the guilt-ridden Emperor was therefore prompted to order the construction of the enormous mausoleum that was to entomb both mother and son. Atgah Khan, of course, was posthumously bestowed with the title of “martyr” and interred in a delicately beautiful mausoleum close to the Dargah of the 14th-century Sufi saint Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya and the breathtaking magnificent mausoleum of Emperor Humayun (refer Pixelated Memories - Atgah Khan's Tomb, Pixelated Memories - Hazrat Nizamuddin Dargah and Pixelated Memories - Humayun's Tomb complex). Adham however was labelled an unfaithful traitor and buried in far-flung Mehrauli in an octagonal mausoleum reminiscent of the architectural style of the numerous dynasties of Delhi Sultanate who preceded the nearly uninterrupted 330-year Mughal reign – the close proximity to the Dargah of the 13th-century Sufi saint Hazrat Qutbuddin Bakhtiyar Kaki was to be his lone concession (refer Pixelated Memories - Hazrat Bakhtiyar Kaki's Dargah).

A touch of ornamentation

The whole structure rises from an immense plinth delineated at the corners by octagonal bastions with enough space within them for several people to stand in shoulder-to-shoulder. The fortified walls of the thick-set plinth and the bastions bear traces of exquisite ornamentation, primarily strips of red sandstone sculpted into scrolls of floral patterns and flourishes which have somehow survived the ravages of time and nature. The octagonal mausoleum, vertically exceedingly prominent relative to its architecturally similar predecessors, is externally very minimally ornamented with just the bare minimum of traces of adornment – plasterwork medallions composed of inscribed calligraphy and floral decorations, unaesthetically thick tapering turrets protruding from the corners of each of the sides of the octagonal structure as well as the sixteen-sided drum (base) of the colossal dome, decorative “kangura” patterns (battlement-like leaf motif ornamentation) and an unusually pointed, highly polished glittering red sandstone finial crowning the apex. The cream-white thick walls, plastered over in tatters wretchedly revealing the layers of red-grey bricks underneath (despite being very recently conserved and restored (re-plastered) on the occasion of the 19th Commonwealth Games (CWG XIX 2010)), are buttressed for structural stability and surrounded on every side by an exceptionally wide colonnaded passageway that visually lends the entire structure a discernibly squat appearance despite its perpendicular towering existence. The interiors are unbelievably straightforward – a single, unprepossessing narrow gravestone, positioned thus sometime in the last century itself (on the orders of the Viceroy Lord Curzon who initiated restoration and conservation of numerous monuments throughout the country during his viceregal reign (1899-1905)), marks the location of Adham’s mortal remains, nothing however indicates that Maham Anga too was buried here – overhead, an ethereally beautiful painted medallion in blues, reds and blacks scatters an otherworldly artistic luminescence.

Symmetrically ungainly! So unlike the other Mughal edifices!

In every other direction, the local vandals have resorted to beautifying the mausoleum by inscribing it with nonsensical chalk pattern designs and heartfelt love letters. From past the limitless sea composed of the crowns and tresses of hundreds of thousands of vibrant green trees comprising the ridge forest extending immediately beyond the mausoleum’s peripheries, the richly illustrated towering Qutb Minar (refer Pixelated Memories - Qutb Minar) sternly overlooks the cruel desecration of the punitive sepulcher of the equally ferocious General. Legend goes that before her demise, Queen Roopmati had thus cursed Adham Khan that never a woman shall visit his grave or risk being harshly rendered devoid of conjugal happiness throughout her life – the mausoleum is however conspicuously distinguished today as a fascinating exemplar of a local community center regularly frequented by hordes of schoolchildren lolling their time after school, near-continuously chattering girls gossiping in rapid-fire Hindi amongst themselves, old men and women dressed in flawless white mumbling to themselves and the occasional camera-toting tourists – the curse and the numerous assertions of the monument being terrifyingly haunted seem to have been irreversibly forgotten, remembered only in folktales and contemporaneous historical accounts – perhaps a consequence of the burial of the doting Maham Anga with her cherished, although often wayward, son? Locals nonetheless do warn visitors to not stay overnight inside the mausoleum.

Serving the dead and the living - Mehrauli Primary Health Center

In vernacular parlance, the mausoleum is referred to as a “Bhool Bhulaiyya” (“Impenetrable Maze”) – some say it’s because its thick walls possess unfathomably convoluted passages amongst themselves, especially along the first floor, others say it’s because members of a marriage retinue explicably lost their way in the forest beyond its extremities never to be found again – though somehow I seem to have missed witnessing these passages, I’m nonetheless more inclined to side with the second opinion since the first seems too unbelievably far-fetched and also one has to take into consideration that at one point in its history, early 19th-century to be exact, the mausoleum was desecrated and converted into a country residence by Major Blake of the Bengal (British) Civil Services who had, enchanted by the subdued magnificence and unperturbed by the macabre stories pertaining to the personalities interred within, demolished the graves and installed comfortable beds and dining tables in their place. Incredibly afterwards, the structure bewilderingly served in the unusual capacities of an army guesthouse, a police station and a post office! Of course, Major Blake wouldn’t have chosen to reside in a labyrinthine maze, nor could have been a guesthouse/police station/post office run from such perplexing a premises.

Interestingly enough, this was not the only monumental edifice thus violated and recycled for worldly purposes inherently different from those that it was originally conceived to serve – couple of meters from the mausoleum exist two small monuments – a miserably crumbling pink-red mosque possessing a very finely-proportioned onion dome and a curious yellow mausoleum that from its distinctive appearance is discernible to belong to the short-lived Lodi Dynasty reign (AD 1451-1526) – while the former, wretchedly decrepit and thoroughly ruined, has been converted to a residence, the latter officially functions since the early 1930s in the governmental capacity of Mehrauli Primary Health Center (PHC) managed by the Municipal Corporation of Delhi (MCD)!

Commemorating forgotten history?

Additional chambers have been constructed around the original structure of the PHC and drenched in coats of blindingly brilliant yellow paint; verandahs shielded from the elements by wide corrugated iron sheet eaves (“chajja”) and lined with stone benches for patients and their relatives to sit on run around it and its exterior walls have been faced with grotesque white bathroom tiles – in its entirety, the picture of a shameful transformation and more significantly an unabashed contempt for architectural heritage and landmarks. Like the medieval monument, the desolate walls encompassing it were also once painted sunshine yellow like the structures they enclose, but presently reveal almost a rainbow spectrum of multicolored flourishes – yellowish-orange where the paint is still retained albeit discolored and darkened over time, green-grey where it has been entirely obliterated and compelled to reveal the layers of cement underneath, brown-red where the bricks peep through and bluish black-green where strands of moss have colonized the surface. A marble memorial tablet embedded in the wall notes –

“From the Zails of Mehrauli and Badarpur, 1261 men went to The Great War (1914-1919). Of these, 92 gave up their lives.”

(Zail – A revenue unit employed to demarcate areas during the British reign (AD 1857-1947))

So unsettlingly ironic is the British concept of historicity and commemorative remembrance that they had the temerity to inscribe an epigraph to themselves and their wars on the walls of a monument they unflinchingly overtook and mutated thus. This then is perhaps the “Kali Yuga” (“Age of Decay and Obliteration”) the Hindus refer to!

Squalor and decay!

Location: Immediately opposite Mehrauli bus terminal
Nearest metro station: Both Qutb Minar station and Saket station are equidistant.
Nearest Bus stop: Mehrauli
How to reach: Take a bus from the either of the metro stations to Mehrauli. Adham Khan's tomb is opposite the bus terminal and the PHC monument is barely couple of meters away.
Open: All days, sunrise to sunset
Entrance fees: Nil
Photography/Video charges: Nil
Relevant Links -
Edifices in Delhi associated with Adham Khan and his family -

Pixelated Memories - Khair-ul-Manazil Mosque (built by Maham Anga)
Pixelated Memories - Tomb of Azim Khan (who defeated Adham Khan at Malwa)
Pixelated Memories - Tomb of Quli Khan (Adham Khan's brother)

Edifices in Delhi associated with Atgah Khan and his family -

Pixelated Memories - Tomb of Atgah Khan
Pixelated Memories - Tomb of Abdul Rahim Khan-i-Khanan (Atgah Khan's son-in-law)
Pixelated Memories - Tomb of Mirza Aziz Kokaltash (Atgah Khan's son)

Other monuments located in the immediate vicinity of Adham Khan's Tomb -

Suggested reading -

May 16, 2016

Dadabari Jain Temple, Mehrauli, Delhi

February 17, 2016

Loharheri Baoli, Dwarka Sector-12, Delhi

January 03, 2016

Kaushal Minar, Hastsal village, Delhi

November 27, 2015

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

September 23, 2015

Madhi Masjid, Mehrauli, Delhi

September 10, 2015

Adham Khan's Tomb and Mehrauli PHC, Delhi

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