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There are many who believe that though Dost Mohammed
established the character of the old city of Bhopal, much of its
grace derives from the curious fact that from 1819 to 1926 Bhopal was
ruled by a succession of Begums — Islamic queens who were active
monarchs
From
our window moonlight stretches silver foil over the ancient
landscape and a cool breeze carries the fragrance of roses. After we
had checked into a hotel in Bhopal, a little before sunset, we got
down to some historical research on Madhya Pradesh’s capital.
Bhopal
stands on the site of the legendary capital of the 11th century
ruler, Raja Bhoja. He called it Bhojapal. But there are very few
traces of that old capital left in the city. This is largely because
the existing old city was created by an Afghan soldier, Dost Mohammed
who, in the first half of the 18th century, wrested the area from a
beautiful queen of the Gond tribe: Kamlawati.
And
there are many who believe that though Dost Mohammed established the
character of the old city of Bhopal, much of its grace derives from
the curious fact that from 1819 to 1926 Bhopal was ruled by a
succession of Begums — Islamic queens who were active monarchs.
The most outstanding of them was Shah Jehan Begum who ruled from 1868
to 1901. She introduced Bhopal’s pioneering postal service and
the railway station. She also, in the best traditions of Islam, made
adequate provision for her people to practise their faith. Bhopal’s
Taj-ul Masajid (a masajid is apparently larger than a masjid) is a
magnificent assertion of a people’s involvement with their
religion.
On
an appreciably smaller scale, but enchanting in quite a different
way, is the Jama Masjid, the mosque built in 1837 by Kudsia Begum.
Its tall minarets are crowned by gold spikes and, like the cathedrals
in the old towns of Europe, it dominates the maze of alleys and
bylanes of the old bazaar of Bhopal.
We
decided to visit the old market the next day because bazaars
generally give a good feel of the mores of a people. As we walked
through narrow lanes of the old market, the colourful Chowk Bazaar,
we felt that we were in Delhi’s Chandni Chowk and the labyrinth
around Hyderabad’s Charminar. Shops were aromatic with a vast
array of churans (digestives), some covered in silver leaf. Those who
feast on Bhopal’s delectable confections, rich enough for a
Nawab’s wedding, need a little gastronomic assistance. Then
there were the purveyors of batwa (bead bags) ranging from Rs 5 to
5000 and from the ethnic authentic to the ethnic chic. And delicate
silver jewellery, fabrics threaded with silver and gold, and yards of
fine tinsel shimmering in the sun.
In
old Bhopal, too, are some beautiful buildings erected during the long
reign of the Nawabs and their powerful Begums. Gauhar Mahal was
gracefully eclectic, blending Hindu and Mughal styles. We were told
that it was built in 1820 by Begum Kudesia who was also known as
Gauhar. Forty years later, her daughter, Jehan, had the beautiful
Moti Masjid constructed in a style which reminded us of Delhi’s
Jama Masjid. As our research had led us to believe, the most
impressive mosque in Bhopal is the Taj-ul Masjid. Its octagonal
minarets and onion-shaped domes have a quiet and soaring majesty.
When we walked in its cool echoing interior, we found that it had
been decorated with finely crafted carvings and stone grilles. As in
most mosques, there was a feeling of contemplative serenity.
Old
Bhopal is one side of the lake. We crossed over, on a busy road, to
the other side.
If
you have more than a passing interest in history, do visit the State
Museum. Here, there are reproductions of some of the now destroyed
Buddhist Bagh Cave paintings, 84 rare Jaina sculptures of the
8th-13th centuries, Avalokatswara of Lamaism, Saivite sculptures and
miniature paintings showing the graceful lifestyles of those days.
We
also made it a point to visit the famed multi-cultural centre, Bharat
Bhavan. Here, in a complex which blends effortlessly with a hillside
are galleries devoted to tribal art which has a universal appeal;
paintings by famous artists like M.F. Husain and areas where artists
can express their creativity including those trained in the folk
traditions of our villages.
Thanks
to Bhopal’s lakes, this capital city never seems to be as
crowded as other state capitals.
On
the Upper Lake, there is a boating club with those tummy-trimming
devices: pedal boats; zooming speed boats and for the initiated,
parasailing and waterskiing. For the good people of Bhopal this is
also a popular place to enjoy the drama of sunset over the lakes.
Through
our window, we can see a single star and a sickle moon. It reminded
us that we have not seen the oldest part of Bhopal’s Islamic
heritage. We decided to remedy that the day after by visiting
Islamnagar. We left shortly after breakfast and drove 11 kilometres
out of Bhopal. This could have been the route that Dost Mohammed
followed in the early 18th century. Fleeing from Imperial Delhi
during the chaos following Aurangzeb’s death, this Afghan
adventurer acquired a kingdom and established his capital in
Islamnagar.
Today,
Islamnagar is a monument to those historic times when loyalties
shifted like cloud-shadows. It was cool when we visited the abandoned
palace. Cooing pigeons and laughing children played among the
splashing fountains that the Afghan had installed to replicate the
temperate climes of his home in the far north-west. Fragrant steam no
longer fills the baths of the hamaam in Chaman Mahal; and in the
double-storeyed Rani Mahal where silver anklets once tinkled, the
silence of fading memories reigns.
We
trailed nostalgia behind us like a scarf all the way back to Bhopal.
Then another interest released its hold on us and we were back in the
fascinating present. The present is the first city forest of an
Indian state capital: Van Vihar. It is bounded by one of Bhopal’s
lakes and covers an area of 393 hectares.
Driving
in, we stopped our car and photographed spotted deer and the large
sambar deer with a naked lens; and watched the other, though slightly
more dangerous, forest denizens living wild and free on the other
side of a chain-link fence. It did seem to us that we the caged
creatures and our four-footed cousins had come down to have a quick
peek at those odd humans confined by the fence!
We
were standing on a patch of high ground overlooking the lake and the
twinkling lights of the city beyond when a movement caught our eyes.
Two large sambar, our largest deer, walked slowly down to the edge of
the lake, waded in, stood belly deep in the dusk-glowing water
chomping on succulent reeds and weeds. After a while they waded
further out and began to swim. We were on the point of alerting the
guards when the animals turned and dog-paddled back, emerged dripping
from the water. The sun set and the deer seemed to shake themselves
spraying pearl drops of water. Then they trotted into the shadows of
the trees of Van Vihar and vanished. Moonlight stretched silver-foil
over the lake and a cool breeze carried the soft fragrance of the
roses of Bhopal.
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