ASHA: Blast From The Past

Copyright: Syed Ali Nadeem Rezavi

In December 1678, Maharaja Jaswant Singh, the Rathore ruler of Jodhpur died at Jamrup in Afghanistan. At the time of his death, Maharaja Jaswant Singh had no son. But it was reported to Aurangzeb that two ranis of Jaswant Singh were expectant. At the time of his death, Jaswant Singh was indebted to the State. So Aurangzeb ordered that efforts should be made to realize the amount from the property of the deceased Raja, as was the customary law. But pending any final decision regarding the conferring of tika on any one, Aurangzeb waited for the birth of the child. Under the Mughals, the conferring of the tika had a political and administrative significance; it meant recognition of a particular person as a raja of a particular place by the emperor. The tika was applied on the fore head of the raja by the emperor himself.

After the death of Jaswant Singh, Rani Hadi, the chief queen of the late Raja, was pleading that the tika should be conferred on her. But according to the law of succession followed by the Mughals in respect of conferring the tika, it could not be conferred on a widow (who had no status in the Hindu law).

So the weakness in the Rajput case was that they had no candidate on whom the tika could be conferred.

In the meantime, one of the Ranis gave birth to a son who was named Ajit Singh. After the birth of Ajit, the situation slightly changed because now the Rajputs had a candidate for the gaddi of Jodhpur. Initially, Aurangzeb had not doubted the genuineness of Ajit Singh, which is evident from the fact that the fort of Pokhran which had been assigned to Askaran by Aurangzeb, was cancelled on the plea that a son had been born to Jaswant Singh.

But again, the weakness in the Rajput case was that the tika could not be conferred on an infant. At this stage, Aurangzeb ordered that Jodhpur be included in the khalisa.

A question which can be raised here is: why did Aurangzeb wait for 4 or 5 months after the death of Jaswant Singh for passing an order of inclusion of Jodhpur into the khalisa? Answer to this is that as it was reported to Aurangzeb that the two Ranis of the late Raja were expecting, Aurangzeb wanted that if they turned out to be daughters, the task would have been comparatively easy. However, even if they turned out to be sons, it would hardly make a difference as the tika could not be conferred on a child.

The Rathores resented the inclusion of Jodhpur into the khalisa. Durgadas fled with Ajit Singh to Jodhpur. Rani Hadi, the chief queen of the late Jaswant Singh protested against the order of the inclusion on the ground that no bhumiya (zamindar) had ever been dispossessed from their watan (native land). Why were Rathores who had done so much distinguished service, being humiliated and asked to leave Jodhpur at a time when ceremonies of the deceased Raja were being held? Durgadas and Sona Bhati spear-headed the cause of the Rathores and pleaded that the order for inclusion of Jodhpur into khalisa be revoked and the tika be conferred on Ajit Singh.

The resentment of the Rathores was genuine, but the difficulty with the Mughals was also genuine. The tika could not be conferred on a widow or a child. Sir Jadunath Sarkar has made an attempt to explain the causes of the Rathore Rebellion in the usual framework of the so-called hostility of Aurangzeb towards Hindus and the Rajputs. Sarkar, being a ‘scientific historian’, however concedes that there was a difficulty in conferring a tika on the widow – a technical hitch, and again, on conferring a tika on a child.

So the fact that the tika could not be conferred on either is conceded by Sarkar. But, he says, it could have been conferred on Inder Singh, who was the grandson of Amar Singh, the elder brother of Jaswant Singh, that is, a very near blood relation of Jaswant Singh.

Sarkar further argued that Inder Singh was a very seasoned commander and an accomplished general serving in the Deccan as a mansabdar of 1500/1000. So if Aurangzeb was honest enough to confer the tika on a suitable candidate, then he should have been given; but the territory was instead included in to the khalisa because, Sarkar argues, Aurangzeb wanted to deprive the Hindu community from a powerful centre against his anti-Hindu policies.

Because of the protests of the Rathores, and due to the indignation amongst the Rathores against the inclusion of Jodhpur into the khalisa, Aurangzeb changed his mind. At this stage, he doubted the genuineness of Ajit Singh being the legitimate heir to Jaswant. He doubted him to be the son of a milk woman or a maid-servant and as such, no significance was to be attached to him.

Fortunately for us, all despatches of the waqi’a nigar of Ajmer, which were sent to the emperor, are preserved and are a part of a two volume manuscript in the Asafiya Library, Hyderabad. A transcript of this ms. is present in our library as well. These despatches provide a first hand information regarding events which took place in 1679-80 and a correct appraisal of the situation as the waqi’a nigar is writing for the exclusive eyes of the emperor. To be fair to Sir Jadunath, these despatches were not discovered in his time. They provide extremely useful information regarding the Rathore rebellion.

The information contained by the waqa’i Ajmer have been used by M.Athar Ali in his article on the causes of the Rathore Rebellion which was published in the PIHC, Delhi, 1961.

Thus having in view the reaction of the Rathores against the inclusion of Jodhpur territory in the khalisa Aurangzeb cancelled the order of inclusion and conferred the tika on Inder Singh for a consideration of 36 lakhs of rupees. Another claimant was Karan Singh, who was not so closely connected but offered 45 lakhs. His offer and claim was rejected by the emperor. So the money motive is to be ruled out.

After the appointment of Inder Singh as the Raj of Jodhpur, the Rathores went to the extremes, sharply reacting to his appointment. Rani Hadi made a petition to Aurangzeb that if you want the destruction of the temples, we are ready for that and would do so willingly, but that the appointment of Inder Singh should be revoked. The inclusion of the territory to khalisa was better than the appointment of Inder Singh.

Had Aurangzeb been in spreading Islam or in destruction of the temples, he would have accepted and welcomed the petition and the proposal of Rani Hadi. But the plea of the Rani was rejected. Rani Hadi now took the extreme step of filing a suite in the court of Qazi Hamid praying to know what the legal position in Shariat was. He however boycotted the petition.

Two questions arise at this stage. Why was Inder Singh not acceptable to the Rathores at all? Reason was that Inder Singh was the grandson of Amar Singh, the elder brother of Jaswant Singh, who had been deprived and humiliated by Jaswant Singh and his family. Durgadas and the other Rathore leaders, and the widows of the late Jaswant feared that if he was appointed and allowed to come from Bikaner where he was presently residing, he might take revenge on behalf of his grandfather and other family members.

These internal tensions, strains and stresses were known to Aurangzeb, while Sir Jadunath seems to be either unaware or forgetful of them. When the appointment of Inder Singh was not cancelled, the Rathores made it clear that they would not let him enter.

So the cause of the Rathore Rebellion was the appointment of Inder Singh as the new ruler and not the inclusion of Jodhpur to the khalisa.

Let us now come to the fallacies of Sarkar. If his argument is to be accepted at the face value, that Aurangzeb wanted to deprive the people of a Hindu centre against the anti-Hindu policies of Aurangzeb, that objective could have been achieved easily by appointing Ajit Singh as the Raja of Jodhpur, even if his patrimony in the eyes of Aurangzeb was doubtful, as for about 20 years, he would have been incapable of ruling. Rathores would have been satisfied and Aurangzeb could have named an administrator to administer the territory till Ajit Singh was a child. This could have been the easiest way to weaken Jodhpur. Aurangzeb did not do that as Aurangzeb wanted Jodhpur to flourish as (a) it should flourish so that a continuous supply of soldiers be continued from the rank of the Rathores, who were excellent soldiers; and (b) the law and order be maintained as Jodhpur was situated on the highway of the trade route from Agra to Gujarat.

Sarkar committed a mistake while giving the reasons for the rebellion. The depth of the bitterness of the Rathores – Durgdas, Sonar Bhati and Rani Hadi – was against Inder Singh. And when the order was not withdrawn by Aurangzeb, the Rathores asked the qile’dar of Jodhpur, Iftekhar Khan, to leave the place as they were starting a rebellion.

The traditions of mourning Imām Husain during the ten days of Muharram has a very long history.

Before going further, let me first explain some of the terms: the term majlis stands for the congregational assembly or gathering where the memory of the martyrs of Karbala are invoked. It comprises basically of three parts: a typical majlis starts with soz khwāni, recital of dirges while sitting. It usually starts with salām (salutations: verses eulogising the Ahlulbayt) and ends with certain bayts (verses) of Marsiya (elegies). This is followed by the oratory (zakiri/ majlis) “recited” by a zākir” orator: Though seldom “read” but delivered in the form of a speech it is “recited” as initially there used to be a recital of a book written during the 17th Century in Safavid Iran which was known as Rauzat ush Shuhada. It was a versified account of Karbala by Waez Kashifi. Later this job was taken over from the reciters by orators, zākerīn.

The zikr or main oratory has two parts: fazāil (praise, appreciation) and masāeb (travails). In the first part the orator tells about the life, message and parables from the experiences of the Ahlulbayt as well as discusses any theme or topic he may want, from meaning of Islam to the acts of terrorism today, the message of the Prophet to the social ills prevalent in the community. The end 10 to 15 minutes are necessarily devoted to the masaib: an account of the tragedy which befell on Imām Husain and his followers at Karbala.

The last part of the majlis is mātam, beating of chest as a sign of lamentation along with a recital (in fact singing) of nauha (dirges). The crescendo in the mātam is reserved for the last. The programme ends with a ziarat (salutations) and distribution of tabarruk (offerings) of whatever the host can manage: sweets or biscuits or whatever eatable on can manage. The distribution is amongst all who were present.

As such majlis (plural, Majālis) are held for all the ten days, it is known as “Ashra” ( ashr being 10).

It is said that if you want to experience the real spirit of Muharram, go to a qasba (a mufassil town) or a qarya (village).

My ancestral place is Haswa, once a qasba (during the Mughal rule and Colonial period) but now a village (grām) in the district of Fatehpur in eastern UP. It derives it’s name from a certain legendary Raja Hans, who was allegedly a contemporary of Pandavas. It was after him that the place came to be known as “Hanswa”, and later “Haswa”. It’s antiquity is attested to by a large number of Kushan period bricks found in the big pond near our house, ancient sculptures and stone carvings embedded within our ancestral homes and a Greek inscription found from a nearby temple a a couple of decades back.

During medieval times the place had two forts, a mud fort and another with stone ramparts attested to as late as the account of an 18th century traveller and Jesuit, Josef Tieffanthaler. According to Abul Fazl the revenues of Haswa were more than that of Fatehpur.

Today in Haswa, Muharram is commemorated only in our Muhalla, known as Muhalla Chaudhrana which has around 22-25 houses, all belonging to one family, ours. Like every other traditional ancestral family, ours too is divided into a number of branches (at least three in our case). All three branches have their own focal points, and are an example of living together separately.

Each house in our Muhalla is now basically an Imāmbada: a large Hall with shahnashīn (platform) a large courtyard and some dālāns and rooms, as the occupants come here only during Muharram to hold majālis (mourning ceremonies). Apart from all these, there is a separate Imāmbada and a Hātha, a former males quarters.

From early morning to late nights the whole neighbourhood and it’s occupants do only one thing: commemorate Husain! Every day there are community kitchens and “Hāzri” for all men and women, day and night.

Even the non-Shi’a neighbourhoods in Haswa start getting crowded with all type of people returning back home to commemorate Muharram: by first of Muharram the whole qasba is abuzz with people eager to receive Imām Husain amongst their midst. Among those who come are a group of of tabalchis – those who beat drums, dhols and tāshas and produce music. Since the sighting of moon the “Muharrami bāja” as they are called, are on the round through out the inhabited areas, passing from muhalla to muhalla announcing the mourning of Husain.

Special preparations start weeks before with every house being coated afresh, some residents even time building new structures to be completed by the dawn of first Muharram. The houses are well stocked to receive incoming guests; generators for electricity are installed and arrangements for proper water supply are made. White washing of the “Karbala” situated outside the village, beyond the lake, which also comprises the family graveyard is done.

From 1st of Muharram to 10th of Muharram there is nothing but sounds of lamentation and cries of “Yā Husain” emanating. Two days however are more elaborately hallowed: the 7th Muharram and the 10th Muharram which are marked by daylong processions of Alams (standard/banner/flag), tābūt (replica of biers) and tazias.

The “ashrā” of Majālis start from early morning of the first: at 7 O’clock the first majlis commences in the House (Imāmbada) of Iqbal Chacha. Followed by a majlis in our own Imāmbada. In fact in our Imāmbada two majalis take place: one in the morning and another at 4:00pm. All over the day around 8 ashras are held and they end late in the night, with people hopping from one majlis to another. When I started visiting my village 20 years back, there were only a few orators (zākirs) all from the family, I being one of them. Now since a number of years around half a dozen professional orators are “imported” from Lucknow and elsewhere. Since two years or so a Maulana from Faizabad, who practices law is given the mimber.

For a period of ten days, the entire locality bustles with people. But suddenly on 11th the Muhalla starts getting vacated. If there were a thousand individuals a day before, by the noon of 11th half are gone. The other half who remain are usually gone in the next two days or so with only a couple of people remaining in the entire neighbourhood waiting for others to return the next Muharram.

The first Ashra of majālis to start at Haswa was in our azākhāna [mourning chamber: a place decorated with alam (flags & emblems), tazia (paper and wood replicas of the shrines) zarī (metal replicas of the same) etc. and a hall to assemble]. The second majlis of the day is held in our house, which was initially started by my late father, Allama Saiyid Sibtul Hasan in 1930’s or so. Later my uncle late Munirul Hasan continued the tradition even after my father left the village to settle in Aligarh in 1954. Later one of our uncles also started a second Ashra in our azākhana. So today, a majlis is held daily at 10:00 am and another at 4:30 pm. Before independence, till 1953 my father Allama Saiyid Sibtul Hasan, Fāzil-i Hanswi used to address the gatherings. These days, our Ashras is addressed by a Maulana who is called; the other is recited by my second cousin’s son, Husain. Till a few years back, I too would recite a number of majālis in my house.

Any typical Muharram day at Haswa however starts with an Ashra scheduled for 7:30 am in the house of late Iqbāl chacha. Usually a zākir from Lucknow is invited there.

The third daily majlis of the day is held in the azākhāna of Nihāl Bhai, who unfortunately expired much before I started going to Haswa myself. Since the last decade and a half I found Nihāl Bhai’s younger brother late Chānd Miyān organising this majlis. Since his passing away, Nihāl Bhai’s son has taken over. They also now invite a zākir, usually from Fatehpur to come for the daily majālis.

At around noon, or a little later, is held an Ashra in the house of Abrar Chacha. This majlis is still followed by a mātam accompanied with drums and tāsha, the mātami bāja. Unfortunately some individuals are trying to do away with this practice. And sadly, they appear to be succeeding: a Shia version of wahhabiyat where every second thing is “harām” or “biddat” is also gradually seeping in!

In the evening a majlis is held in the house of Hassu Bhai. Here generally the zākir is called to recite the majlis.

After the evening prayers a majlis is held in Hātha, a place which was a common mardānkhāna of the entire clan, but now held by a family. It is technically not an Ashra as majālis are held only till 8th Muharram and with a gap on 7th due to a procession. It used to be the largest majlis of the entire day and was till recently attended by people from far and wide. Usually a zākir from Lucknow is there. I remember that till a decade or so back, late Razi Bhai was the one who held the sway there. During that period, a number of poets too present their kalām from the mimber (pulpit) and a number of nauha khwān (dirges reciters) cued up vying with each other to get a chance!

The day ends with the last majlis of the day: the majlis in the Imāmbada of Bunyād Ali, one of our grandfathers. Here too, technically it’s not an ashra as only six majālis are held like in Hātha.

Then there are many individual majalis organised by even Sunnis are held. One of them is held on 7th Muharram.

No account of Muharram at Haswa can end without the mention of two of its residents: Qaisar and Hasan Fatehpuri.

Qaisar has a very restricted vision but remarkably remembers all the nauhas and even soz! He single handedly takes up this duty in every azākhāna! And in every procession. His memory keeps us amazed.

Hasan Chacha is our own proud bard: we actually look forward for his new kalām every year! He not only is an accomplished poet, but is a possessor of a good throat and voice. Unfortunately since a few years he has been unable to come. Replacing him today are two others who come from Mumbai: Pappu and Kausar Rizvi. Kausar Bhai himself is an accomplished poet and composes his own nauhas which are quite popular and liked.

As far as the julūs-i azā (mourning processions) in Haswa are concerned, they too, like in any other Shi’a basti in North India, are many.

However I will single out only two or three of them here. Haswa since before independence is known for 7th Muharram. On 7th a massive procession is taken out around noon from the Imāmbada of Bunyād Ali.

The procession commences with the recital of a certain dirge which is recited by a number of persons who stand holding the pulpit.

Accompanied with Alams (flags of Imām Husain and his flagbearer, alamdār, Hazrat Abbas and biers in the form of cots draped in green symbolising the bier of Hazrat Qasim, martyred son of Imām Hasan) first slowly marches towards Hāthā where Razi Bhai for ages used to recites a majlis. Now whoever is invited for the Hātha majlis does so. The procession then heads towards the bazār, where people from even neighbouring villages have assembled. Here the procession is almost taken over by the Sunnis who perform zanjīr ka mātam (inflicting the backs of their torsos with small knives hanging from iron chains). By evening the procession proceeds back to from where it had commenced.

The second important procession is in the early morning of 10th Muharram. Soon after morning azān when it is still dark women assemble in our azākhāna and my aunt used to read a long versified dirge. As it finishes in great lamentations, the two tābūts (replica of biers) along with an Alam is taken out and handed to the menfolk standing outside the house. Slowly the biers are taken out and all march towards the Hāthā situated at the other end of the muhalla (ours being the last house on this side.) As we proceed from each house enroute a bier and an Alam joins. By the time the procession reaches Hātha, more than two dozen tābūts and a number of alams are there. It is in fact one of the most grand scene: dozens of tābūts on the shoulders of silent mourners moving under the shadow of the flags of Husain!

Of course the culmination is in the form of the main procession of tenth Muharram. It has the same route as the one on 7th. The only difference is that it is accompanied by two main ( and many subsidiary) tazias.

It is remarkable that the tazias of Haswa are different from the usual ones: they are in the form of rath (chariots) associated with Shri Krishna! They have a pyramidal shikhara style roof with a shade for the maharathi (charioteer) extending in the front! On the top is the wooden “kalasha”.

These paper and bamboo structures were traditionally constructed by one of the family members himself: I remember my cousin Hadi Bhai would start making them soon after Baqr Eid! Now they are made by the professionals from whom we buy them.

Further, in Haswa we have a colour coding as well. The taziya of Hāthā, (the azākhāna of the Old Mardākhāna of our family, now in possession of one branch of the family) is compulsorily green in colour: the colour of Imām Hasan (he was poisoned to death by Amīr Muawiya: thus green, the colour of poison). On the other hand, the tāziya of ‘Imāmbada (of the family, but now controlled by another “branch”) is red, the colour of Imām Husain, who was martyred by sword.

This colour code was followed even in the tāziya kept in individual family azākhānās as well: thus in our house used to usually have the green tāziya, for we belong to that particular branch of family. But now slowly this distinction is being lost. This year the tazia kept in our house is red.

Another tradition is that the Red Tāziya would be the first to be kept on the Imām Chowk. After it has been kept, only then the Green one would be brought out.

It is happy to note that each year the scale of Azadāri in our village, like elsewhere in the country, is growing. The Azadari of Haswa, is spite of changes over the decades, still exudes the old world charm.

Revised: 7th Muharram 1447 / 3rd July 2025

Syed Ali Nadeem Rezavi

A small reading room with some books donated to the Department by the heirs of Dr Waqar Siddiqui, formerly of Archaeological Survey of India has also been established in March 2020. These books deal with various aspects of Medieval Indian Urban history as well as reports and works on various sites and architectural remains. A large number of photographs are also a part of this collection.

It was during the reign of Sultan Nasiruddin Mahmud (1246-61) that Malik Bahāuddin Balban, (future Sultan Ghiyāsuddin Balban) was made the governor of Koil (modern Aligarh). During Balban’s governorship a minaret was ordered to be erected on which Balban put up his inscription.

The first to describe the minaret was Peter Mundy who visited Koil in 1631 and records it as a “high tower” on “ the topp” of a “round hill” on which the town stood.

Some details of this minaret is got from an anonymous report reproduced by WH Smith in 1874. According to this report the minaret was constructed on a high ground of an erstwhile fort (bālā-i qila’) and was raised on a square base. It was built in stages, two of which survived till its demolition in August 1862 as a result of the Mutiny of 1857. The base was of kankar blocks with a few pieces of sang-i surkh (red sandstone) inserted in between. The first stage was entirely of these kankar blocks while there was the use of burnt bricks in the second.

To the north was the door-way opening on a spiral stair-case which originally led to the top of the column. This staircase was also constructed of kankar blocks, and was lighted by several apertures in the outer wall and a door-way which opened on the cornice, or balcony at the top of the first stage. The lower stage, as per the anonymous report was 54′ high, while the remains of the second were 20′, so that the extreme altitude which was surviving then was 74 ʼ. Further, as per this report, the minaret was tapering with the external circumference at the base of the minaret was 80′. The thickness of the walls at the base at 6ʼ while and at the top of the first stage they were 4 1/2’ only. Immediately where the kankar block staircase terminated there was slung across the stairway, as it were, to form one of the steps, was a Hindu pillar carved and ornamented with mythological figures. This was the only “Hindu” stone the anonymous writer of the Report could discover in the whole pillar. Above it several beams of wood were laid across suggesting to the writer that the architects who built the second stage, as it then stood, were very different persons from those who erected the first, and that the remains of the second stage were of comparative “modern origin”.

Over the doorway was an inscription, in the ornamented Tughra script, which is translated thus:

“This building (was erected) during the reign of the great Sultan, the Master of the necks of nations, Nasīr-ud dunniyā wa-l dīn, the Sultan of Sultāns, Protector of the faithful, the heir to the kingdom of Solomon, the Lord of the Seal in the Empire of the World. Abu Muzaffar Mazaffar Mahmud bin as-Sultan (May Allah perpetuate his kingdom and authority, by the order of the Malik of the World the great exalted blessed Khan, Bahā’u-l haqq wa-l dīn, the Malik of the maliks of the East and China, Balban ush-Shamsi, during the days of his government (May his high qualities endure!), on the 10th of Rajab 652 AH / 26 August 1254 AD”

This inscription after the demolition of the minaret by G Edmondstone, the Lieutenant Governor of the newly established Colonial regime in August 1862, was acquired by Sir Syed Ahmad Khan and subsequently put in one of the structures of the MAO College which he opened in 1875.

From 1875-76 till 6th July 2019 this inscription adorned one of the walls of the Reading Room of SS Hall North (Building which once housed the Nizām Museum founded by Sir Syed).

On 6th June 2019 on my request Coordinator of the Museum, and the permission of Professor Tariq Mansoor, the Vice Chancellor AMU, the epigraph was taken out from the wall with the help of a technical team of the Archaeological Survey of India, Agra Circle.

As soon it was removed, it revealed a secret which was unknown to most us: the inscription was carved on the reverse of a buff stone which was originally carved with 10th-11th Century carvings in Jain tradition. It was in fact a central slab of a ceiling carved with a lotus flower surrounded with a frieze of beautiful Jain sculptures.

The panel was set in a thick layer of lime and kankar mortar.

On 26 August 2019, exactly 157 years after it got dislocated from the minaret and 765 years after it was put up by Balban [26 August 1264 as per the inscription itself], the Epigraph joins the other archaeological collections of Sir Syed at the Sir Syed Room at the Musa Dakri Museum, AMU and was formally unveiled by Professor Tariq Mansoor in the presence of such stalwarts like Professor Jamkhedkar, Chairman ICHR, New Delhi, Dr KN Dikshit, Editor Puratatva and Professor Irfan Habib, Padam Bhushan and Professor Emeritus AMU.

I as the then in charge of the Museum and the entire academia thank the Vice Chancellor AMU, Professor Tariq Mansoor for facilitating its shifting to the Museum and making public access to it possible. I am also thankful to Professor Ubaidullah Bokhari, the then Provost SS Hall (North), the entire technical team of ASI Agra Circle, Professor Manvendra Kumar Pundhir, Incharge Archaeology Section AMU and Mr Saleem Ahmad of the Section for all their respective endeavours!

Balban’s Inscription has now joined the Sir Syed Collection and would now be on permanent display there.

Here I append a talk by Professor Syed Jabir Raza on Medieval Epigraphs. At the end is an analysis of Balban’s inscription in Aligarh

http://youtu.be/TtdcReiBzW0

Introducing Balban’s inscription

https://youtu.be/pA_Niqdghyg

Professor Syed Ali Nadeem Rezavi

Almost four decades back (February 1989), when I joined as Lecturer in this university I immediately started visiting the Teaching Staff Club in the evenings. I had heard a lot about the Club as a student: that it would remain open the whole night closing only in the small hours of the sun rise. Had also heard about some teachers who would always be found there betting and playing rummy. But then there were many positives too which reached our ears: it’s famed gaming clubs: the badminton, lawn tennis and the billiards! And of course the unending cups of richly brewed chai! We had also heard stories of how once upon a time a number of lady teachers, women like Begum Habib, Sayera Habib, Sajida Zaidi, Zahida Zaida used to frequent these clubs and play badminton or lawn tennis! All these stories would enchanted us and led me straight to the Club the very first evening of having been appointed as a temporary lecturer in the Department of History.

From that day onwards for almost a decade or more, to visit the Club in the evenings and nights became a compulsive habit. We would usually go there as a group (the History Group, as it came to be known in contrast to the Urdu Group and/or the Shouting Brigade).

Soon I came to realize that the Club was known for two things which were made available there: one, the richly brewed Lipton Green tea brought in a classical style in cute tea pots, small white milk pots, bowls of crystal white sugar granules and spotless cups and saucers, all laid out neatly on metal trays.

The second was the “bucket icecream” served in glass icecream cups which contained two scoops of mangoe or vanila ice-cream. To enjoy these cups in the sprawling green lawns of the Staff Club was indeed a heavenly experience! Another beauty of the club was that you did’nt have to pay for the tea, ice-cream, the “mixture” or the “daal” to munch along or the packets of cigarettes. You just had to sign the slip which would be brought respectfully to you by an attendant.

In the club you could play cards, snooker, table tennis, lawn tennis, carrom or just sit and gossip your heart out over steaming hot cup of tea and swirling puffs of cigarettes. By 6:00 in the evening the club premises would start coming alive and would remain alive till around midnight.

Thus the three plus points of the Staff Club, many many years back were the brewed green tea, the bucket ice-cream and the cashless transactions to enjoy these goodies!

The ‘members’ were a different story altogether. The Club was dominated with individuals carrying nicknames like ‘Barula’, ‘Sabjiwala’, ‘Criminal’, ‘Haddi’ and so on…each trying to outdo the other in justifying their “takhallus” (nom de plume)! They came from various departments and disciplines, but what bound them together was their aversion to academic exellence and each had vitriolic tongues which could roll out obscene adjectives with remarkable ease.

Sometimes, in spite of the goodies mentioned above, it really would become difficult to sit at the same place as them: each trying to outshout the other!

However there were atleast two groups who looked at these ‘regulars’ with disdain and indulge in topical discussions and current affairs, as against scandals and vitriolics. One such group was dominated by the ‘Urdu-walas’ who generally held forth literary discussions. It was an intellectual treat to even listen to their discussions.

The second group was of ‘history walas’ and it too was known for its cerebrally high discussions. But then unlike the Urdu group, this second group was also known for its political overtones: every happening on the campus would be analysed in the Right-Left binary! This was the bane of the group! But then it was the general belief that the University politics was influenced and guided by the elite power mongers of History department!

Then there were the chess players who were engrossed in their game and oblivious to the world all around. Similar to them were the occupants of the Billiards room, busy at their game – and power plays – all the while gushing down the elegant tea being served to them.

As decades passed, we started going less and less, for with passing years our academic burden and teaching load started a northward movement.

In a recent visit to the club I discovered that the famed brewed tea in a pot accompanied cup and saucers is now a thing of the past. So is the bucket ice-cream. Silence pervades the club and a pall of gloom and disillusionment seems to engulf it…

For a few years it came to be engulfed by enforced silences and fear of abandonment, the Staff Club resembled a Haunted House in Shambles….the monthly contributions deducted from the salaries was done away with; in fact there was also a threat of a lockdown! But then gloom doesn’t last for ever. The dark clouds passed on.

As soon as the leadership of the University changed, the membership deductions were restored and gradually the life returned. Now I hear that it is brimming with activities again. The tennis club, the badminton club, the table tennis club and the billiards club are thriving once again. But unlike in the hoary past, now you will not find any women there. The old stalwarts have also no more. I also hear that the History Group and the Urdu Group are also things of the past. They have now been replaced by Supporters, Critics and the Fence-sitters! The high philosophical discussions too, I am told have also been replaced by mundane! But still one thing from the past remains: if you want to give wings to a rumour: go and whisper it in the corridors and lounges of the Staff Club. By the next day the whole town would be flooded by the variants of what was whispered!

Long Live the Club! Long Live the AMUTA!

There are a number of interpretations, mostly mythical which centre around the medieval city of Fathpur Sikri, specially around how it originated, why it was ‘abandoned’ and when did it ‘cease’ to exist. Was it a town which was conceived, originated, flourished and then withered during a single reign? Or did it continue even after it was ‘abandoned’ by Akbar as his capital and continued to do so even during the subsequent reigns? Was it ‘abandoned due to a severe paucity of water? It is held that the city was designed and built within the span of half a generation and ‘abandoned’ in favour of another famous capital, making it one of the most unique example of its kind. Thus for example, Tieffenthaler, who visited this city around 1786, finding it almost totally abandoned was constrained to remark that its short life resembled “a flower that blooms in the morning and withers at night.

The signs of its decay appear to have set in even before it was abandoned by Akbar in 1585 as his darus Saltanat, when the Emperor marched from Fathpur Sikri for Kabul after the death of his cousin Mirza Muhammad Hakim. Although till 1585, Fathpur was considered a joint capital along with Agra, and continued as a mint-town , yet, recent studies point out that by 1580-81, it stopped uttering gold coins and by 1581-82 the silver and copper-coins also became extant. By 1591 the general population of the town also appears to have migrated for better avenues. When in the late months of this year Allami Faizi, the famous poet of Akbar, passed through it an embassy to the rulers of Khandesh and Ahmadnagar he reported:

“When I arrived at dār as -saltanat Fathpur, having first been elevated by kissing the threshold of the palace (daulatkhāna), I said a prayer for the well being of His Majesty (Akbar). What can I write about the true condition of the city? The mud buildings (imārāt-i gilīn) have all dissolved into the ground, [although] the stone walls have remained. Having inspected some of the pavilions (pishkhāna-ha) and private houses {khalwat khānaha) from afar and some from close-up, I learnt a moral lesson, Especially so from the house (khāna) of Mir Falhullah Shirazi and I also went to the pavilion (pishkhana) of Hakim Abul Fath Gilani, it too being unique on the world!s horizon.”

Similar is the comment of William Finch, who passed through the city in November 1610, that is fifteen years after it ceased to be the darul khilafa and only five years after Akbar’s death. According to him Fathpur was

“lying like a waste desert; and very dangerous to pass through in the night, the buildings lying waste without any inhabitants.”

This, and much more, has led to the forming of a general impression that Fathpur Sikri was totally ‘abandoned’ and ‘deserted’ soon after it ceased to be the capital of the Mughal Empire. Another popular thesis which has come to surround this ‘abandonment’ is the theory of paucity of water which has been repeated by almost all text-book writers and even serious historians. Here however we endeavour to show that although Fathpur was “abandoned” as a capital city, yet

(i) it was not due to shortage of water, and

(ii) it continued to “live” and thrive as an imperial Mughal town, at least till the reign of Shahjahan.

Let us first deal with the question of availability of water. This problem appears to have been highlighted for the first time by Jahangir in his 13th RY (1619 A.D.). While giving the details of the Jami Masjid and the birka (under-ground covered water tank) constructed in the courtyard of this mosque, Jahangir commented:

“As Fathpur has little water (kam āb), and what there is, is bad (bad āb), this birka yields a sufficient supply for the whole year for the members of the family (of Salim Chishti) and for the dervishes who are the mujawirs (keepers) of the Masjid.”

Khwaja Kamgar Husaini repeats the same and almost in the same words.

This charge of ‘less water’ by Jahangir is intriguing indeed, as we find that no source of Akbar’s period, whether official chronicles, or Akbar’s bitter critic Badauni nor the private letters of the inhabitants of Fathpur during the phase when it was the dārus saltanat ever make even a passing reference to it.

Contrarily, when Babur was preparing to fight his famous battle with Rana Sanga in 1527, he found that “the well-watered ground for a large camp was at Sikri.” The abundance of water at Fathpur Sikri was due to the presence of a large water body, which late during the reign of Akhbar was dammed and given the formal shake of a late. In a letter written in 1580, Fr. Henriques informs that:

“…about a year ago, in order to improve the city, water has been led in from somewhere to form a sizeable lake which is perennial. All the elephants, horses and cattle drink from it, and it also serves the teeming population for all purposes.”

According to Monserrate, this lake, which was dammed to supply the city with water, was ‘two miles long and halfe a mile long’. In 1610, William finch estimated this lake to be two or three ‘cos’ in length and found it “abounding with good fish and wild fowl”, and full of singhāra fruits. When in 1619, Jahangir ordered to be measured, it was found that its circumference was 7 Kos. During the same year, when he resolved not to kill with his own hands any living thing, he ordered 700 antelopes which had been rounded up for hunting to be delivered to the polo ground near the lake where they would remain unharmed. Naturally he knew the water from the said lake would sustain such large number of animals. Sujan Rai Bhadari, writing as late as 1695-96, while describing Fathpur Sikri mentioned that

“adjacent to it (the city) is a kulāb-i buzurg which in its length and breadth is 10 kuroh from which the people used to draw benefit (during Akbars period)”

A survey of Fathpur Sikri and its environs further reveals that apart from the lake there were other sources of water supply. As discussed elsewhere, there were at least 13 step wells (bāolis) and 8 water tanks apart from a large number of ordinary wells interspersed all over the walled city. [See Plan I]

Plan I

Of these at least one, the so-called “Hakim’s Baoli” (the Southern Waterwarks, no.9 on the plan) is still functional and caters to the needs of the town’s population. (The Fathpur Municipal Corporation has fitted it with pipes and a motor to draw the water).

Apart from that, the birka mentioned by Jahangir, as well as the huge water tank (jhālra), still cater to the needs of the people in the habitation on top of the ridge as well as the visitors to the mosque. Most of the other bāolis are in such a preserved condition, that some debris cleaning could make them functional.

Interestingly enough, Maryam Makani, the queen-mother, remained stationed at Fathpur even after Akbar left the capital for Lahore in 1585. When for a brief period, Akbar visited Fathpur in August 1601; the queen was much rejoiced in meeting him. From Abul Fazl’s account it appears that the residents of Fathpur Sikri were quite puzzled as to why Akbar was not returning back. Hakim Abul Fath Gilani, who resided at Fathpur, reveals his amazement and depression that Akbar was residing at Lahore and not returning to Fathpur, Had it been the paucity of water, he would have been aware of it.

In fact in 1581 he had been urging one of his friends to migrate to this city, as, amongst other reasons, commence (tijārat) was “better pursued at Fathpur, which is the capital city (pāi-takht)”. Surely till this time there was no ‘crisis’ which the city was suffering from!

We know that throughout its life as a capital city, there had only been one water related crisis, and that was when the so-called Hauz-i Shīrīn (the kulāb as mentioned by Abul Fazl) burst in 1584.

Celebrations were going on and nobles were busy playing games like chaupar (draughts), shatranj (chess) and ganjifa (cards) when suddenly:

“…A side of that little river {daryācha) gave way, and the water gushed out in fury. Though by the blessings of the holy personality (Akbar?), none of the courtiers was injured, yet many people of lower rank (mardum-i pā’in) suffered loss and many houses built below were carried away by the flood. Inspite of the great crowd of those known to the King, only one, Madadi (in another Ms. Madwi), the cheetahbān (leopard trainer) lost his life… .”

However, the tank appears to have been rebuilt soon after. Did this bursting of the tank give rise to the theory of kam āb (scarcity of water) at Fathpur Sikri and its ‘abandonment’ as the dārus saltanat by Akbar in the very next year in 1585? Had it been so, Badauni would have surely highlighted it. Surprisingly Badauni fails to even record this occurrence.

Then why did Akbar prefer Lahore over Fathpur Sikri after 1585? Abul Fazl tries to provide an answer when he mentions that:

“(Akbar’s) sole thought was that he would stay for a while in the Punjab, and would give peace to the Zabuli land (Afghanistan), clear Swad and Bajaur of the stain of rebellion, uproot the thorn of the tārikiyan (i.e. the Raushanniyas) from Tirali and Bangash, seize the garden of Kashmir, and bring the populars country of Tatta (Sindh) within the Empire. Furthermore, should the ruler of Turan remove the foot of friendliness, he would send a glorious army thither, and follow it up in person.”

This situation had arisen due to the death of Mirza Muhammad Hakim’s death. On his return, Akbar had to turn his attention towards the Dcccan and proceeded against a rebellions son. Thus, probably, it was the political reasons of why Akbar left Sikri and on return preferred the security of Agra fort.

J.F. Richards seeks to provide an ideological answer to this question. According to him Akbar preferred Fathpur till he was devoted to the Chishli saints. In 1585, his pilgrimages to the Sufi saints stopped. ‘Akbar’s departure from Fatehpur Sikri coincided with a definite change in religious attitude’.

Should this transfer of capital from Fathpur Sikri to Lahore in 1585 and then subsequently to Agra be taken as the ‘abandonment’ in the sense that it is generally perceived?

If we take the statements of Allami Faizi and Finch at their face value, then with years of Akbars leave court at Fathpur Sikri, the whole town had turned to ruins. But then, we have seen, Maryam Makani remained stationed at her palace even after Akbar’s departure. Akbar returned to his erstwhile capital, albeit briefly, in 1601, i.e., after ten years of Allami Faizi’s account.

If we read Faizi’s statement carefully, it would become apparent that he is mentioning the mansions of the nobles who, being ministers and courtiers, migrated along with the Emperor. Hakim Fathullah Shirazi had left Fathpur before Akbar went towards Lahore, and never returned back. Hakim Abul Fath died at the time when Akbar was marching from Kashmir to Kabul in 1589. Thus he too had died in the same year as Fathullah Shirazi had left Fathpur before Akbar went towards Lahore, and never returned back. Further, the imarāt-i gilīn (mud houses) which “dissolved into the ground” were either the houses of the retainers of these nobles, or temporary residences of the service class, which would have suffered due to the migration of their employers. We know that at least till 1626 a “faire” and “goodly” bazar, with “pleasant Mansions” on all sides was flourishing and thriving.

It appears that by 1610, Fathpur had emerged as a trading Centre. It had turned into a centre for Indigo plantation (nil) where foreign merchants were attracted. We know that Fathpur Sikri was situated on the Agra-Ajmer highway and was part of the indigo producing tract.

We also hear of a large quantity of“corne” which was grown in this area. We come to know that Fathpur was also known for the manufacture of Woolen carpets, apparently through the settlement of the Persian carpet weavers (qali-bāfs). This carpet weaving industry also seems to have survived the transfer of capital. Pelsaert says that these carpet weavers at Fathpur could weave “fine or course” carpets as per the requirement. It was in consequence to this that the markets at this town kept on to thrive. Incidentally none of this would have been possible had there been some scarcity of water. Indigo cultivation, we know, requires large quantities of sweet water.

Thus it appears that by Jahangir’s time, the nature of the township was transformed from being a capital-city to a merchant town. With the transfer of the capital, the nobility had generally migrated, along with its retainers to Agra, thus forcing the contemporary travellers to comment on its “ruinated” conditions and the fallen to the ground houses. These abandoned noble’s structures were then taken over, near the bāzār-i- sang (the ‘Chaharsuq’, as it is now known), by the members of the mercantile classes, which is indirectly testified by the accounts of some of the European visitors.

The ruinated condition of the noble’s houses, however, does not necessarily point to the urban decay of a Mughal Town. Describing the houses of the Mughal nobility, Pelsaert opines that “these houses last for a few years only, because the walls are built with mud instead of mortar” (compare Faizi’s comment). Elsewhere commenting on the Mughal ethos and psyche, Pelsaert writes:

“Wealth, position, love, friendship, confidence, everything hangs by a threa. Nothing is permanent, yea, even the noble buildings – gardens, tombs or palaces, – which in and every city, one cannot contemplate without pity or distress because of their ruined state. For in this they are to be despised above all the laziest nations of the world, because they build them with so many hundred of thousands [of labourers?] and keep them in repair only so long as the owners live and have the means. Once the builder is dead, no one will care for the buildings; the son will neglect his father’s work, the mother her son’s, brothers and friends will take no care for each other’s buildings; everyone tries, as far as possible, to erect a new building of his own, and establish his own reputation along side that of his ancestors. Consequently, it may be said that if all these buildings and erections were attended to and repaired for a century, the lands of every city, and even a village, would be adorned with monuments; but as a mailer of fact the roads leading to the cities are strewn with fallen columns of stone.”

This passage of Pelsaert provides an apt requiem to the information provided by William Finch, Faizi and others. We know that Pelsaert had been to Fathpur Sikri and was aware of its conditions.

Thus it was more due to the social ethos and the architectural weakness, rather than a mass exodus, that a number of once handsome, noble’s edifices collapsed.

Although Fathpur Sikri was never destined to attract the same attention as it did under Akbar, yet it was never totally neglected by the Mughal rulers at least up till the reign of Shahjahan. Herbert visited the town in the early decades of Jahangir’s accession. If he is to be believed, the new Emperor in order to commemorate the victory over his son, Khusrau, erected “a place of hunting” and a “stately castle” at Fathpur. Jahangir in his memoirs testifies to having ordered (in the 14th RY) the Chaughan (polo ground) near the Hiran Minar, to be enclosed and converted into a park to contain a large number of antelopes in order to “enjoy the pleasure of sport and that at the same time no harm should happen to them”.

From the memoirs of Jahangir, it appears that the Emperor did not visit Fathpur in the first 12 years of his rule. It was in the last few months of his 13th RY (AD 1619) that Jahangir headed towards his father’s capital city and “entered the inhabited part of Fathpur”. Prior to that, Jahangir says, he remained encamped eight days on the banks of the Fathpur Sikri lake, due to the outbreak of plague (tā‘ūn) in the city of Agra, the Emperor was forced to stay at Fathpur Sikri for a period of around three and a half months (January to mid-April 1619). It was at Fathpur Sikri that the celebrations of the commencement of the 14th RY (Nauruz), was celebrated with much festivity. The celebrations of Khurram’s 28th year of birth were also held at this time. On this occasion, Muhammad Salih Kamboh says that the daulatakhāna (royal palace) of Fathpur was decorated “according to the annual custom”. On the same day Jahangir showed the prince the grand buildings constructed by Akbar at Fathpur Sikri.

From the account of his visit to Sikri in 1619 it appears that a number of grandees had their mansions in that city. Jahangir mentions that on the invitation of Itimad-ud-Daula and Asaf Khan he visited their residences. Were these structures only temporary abodes of these nobles, the abandoned houses of Akbari nobles? Describing his first visit to the house of Itimad-ud-Daulah, Jahangir mentions:

“As the house of Itimadud Daulah was on the bank of a tank (tāl), and people praised it greatly as a delightfully place and enchanting residence, at his request on Thursday, the 26th (Bahman), an entertainment was held there…”.

The second visit to his house was after the nauroz celebrations of the 14th RY, when Itimadud Daulah is reported to have decorated his residence, the tāl as well as the “streets both near and far” with all kinds of lights and coloured lanterns. A week later the Emperor was entertained in the house of Asaf Khan which was a fine and pleasant place. These references suggest that these houses in the city had been constructed by their owners themselves.

Jahangir appears to have visited Fathpur Sikri only once again four years tale in 1623.

Shahjahan appears to have paid more attention towards Fathpur. Even before, his accession, when he had rebelled against Jahangir and besieged Agra, he made Fathpur his camp. When he ascended the throne in 1628, he held the weighing ceremony on the occasion of the completion of his 38th year and the beginning of his 39th year (of age) in the daulatkhāna of Fathpur Sikri.

In 1635, Shahjahan visited Fathpur Sikri, a second time as an Emperor, and reportedly camped there for a brief period of three days. His subsequent visits were in 1637 and 1643. On all these three visits, the purpose appears to have been to bunt for the wild fowls and excursions on the lake ‘that equalled the Ab-i Jayhun’ (a prominent river near Balkh).

The next visit of Shahjahan took place in 1644 at a time when plague once again had spread at Agra. The Emperor celebrated the festival of Id al-Adhā (Baqr Id) and offered prayers at the Jami’ Masjid. Lahori and Inayat Khan, while describing these festivities inform that on the occasion “the crowd of people had grown to such an extent that a thronging and milling assembly spilled into the gateway of the Mosque”, and during the ensuing stampede a person died and many were injured. Amongst the injured, one person was a state guest whom the emperor compensated with a grant of Rs.3000/-.

This evidence of Lahori and Inayat Khan suggests that at least till this date (1644) a sizeable civic population still inhabited this former capital of the Mughal Empire. The sizeable population also goes to explain the still throbbing bāzār which Peter Mundy encountered in 1633. The viability of Fathpur Sikri is also testified by the fact that in 1645, Mirza Hasan Safavi, a mansabdār of 3000/2000, was made its faujdar and jagirdar.

Sometime before 1653, the prestige of Fathpur Sikri was further enhanced when Shahjahan ordered the construction of his own palace outside the palaces of Akbar. Muhammad Waris informs us that this daulatkhāna was situated overlooking the banks of the lake. It was in this palace that Shahjahan stayed during his visits of 1653 and 1654.

The description as given by Waris is quite brief yet is clear enough to indicate the rough location of this structure. To be towards the lake, any imperial building could only have been constructed somewhere on top of the ridge behind the Hiran Minar and the Hathipal (the main entrance of the Imperial complex) towards the Jami Masjid and the ‘Shaikhupura’, the Chishti quarters.

During the course of a survey, the present author located the Shahjahani Daulatkhāna adjacent to the so-called ‘Samosa-Mahal’ on the Hāthi Pol – Shaikhupura road.

The structure had been initially excavated by Prof. R.C. Gaur during the course of his National Project on Fathpur Sikri and subsequently labelled as “Minor Haram Sara”. Situated on the rim of the ridge behind the Jami Masjid, this complex extends down to the plains below the side, where a subsequent survey revealed a Shahjahani bāoli, pleasure pavilions and a Chahārbāgh. [See Plan II]

Plan II

The affiliations of this complex along with the structures on the ridge (having a couple of under-ground chambers), as well as the pavilions below, with Shahjahan’s period become apparent through a profuse use of carvo-intaglio designs and shell-plaster which are typical of Shahjahan’s reign.

The year 1654 appears to have been the last when Shahjahan visited his palace at Fathpur Sikri. By 1656-57, he got involved in the war of succession between his sons, which resulted in his being imprisoned at the Fort of Agra by his own son, the future Emperor Aurangzeb.

From this date onwards we hear very little of Fathpur Sikri, until decades later when in 1719 Fathpur again attracted some attention with the coronation ceremony of the captive king Muhammad Shah ‘Rangila’.

Thus we see that Fathpur Sikri’s decline was a decline in the status from a capital city of the Empire, to that of an ordinary town. Still it remained as an important mercantile centre and a favoured Imperial spot at least till the reign of Shahjahan. Till this date, as in the age of Jahangir, it survived not only as a place of pilgrimage for the disciples of Shaikh Salim Chishti, but also as an important centre of production of the carpet industry and Indigo manufacture. It was not a city built and then abandoned during the same reign. More importantly this change of status was due to the exigencies of an Empire and not due to some water scarcity.

Source: Syed Ali Nadeem Rezavi, Fathpur Sikri Revisited, OUP, 2013