Pursuing the Past in the Purana Qila- A Traveller's Note by Diptarka Datta

                          

                  “I struck a deal here…

                   To walk back in time

                And breathe its air...”

Diptarak Datta is a Research  Wing
 Member at Speaking Archaeologically

As the auto left us on the left side of the road, on a fresh, winter Sunday morning,  my friend and I were baffled and taken aback for a while, wondering, which way, the much read about Purana Qila, stood. The huge poster, directing the travelers towards the zoological park, was all the more distracting. Unknowingly, we crossed the road (silently blaming the auto-driver for having dropped us on the wrong side of the road), and started walking towards a red sandstone wall, which seemed to me to be the Purana Qila. However, we were soon stopped by closed gateways. Later, I read up that this was the much less visited Madrasa and mosque built by Maham Anageh,  around the mid sixteenth century.

We had to again cross the road, only to realize that the auto-driver had actually left us on the right side of the road. Actually, the Purana Qila lies just at the end of a winding path, on the right of which, lies the huge and popular zoological park of Delhi. As a result, the poster leading the visitors to the zoo often overshadows and conceals the existence of this sixteenth century fort complex. For a first time visitor like me, this was misguiding enough though.

As we climbed up the winding, sloping path, my companion and I beheld the slowly gathering crowd at the ticket counter. Without wasting another moment, I went to purchase the tickets, saving my friend the trouble of having to witness the glaring disparity between entry rates for Indian and the foreign visitors. If your eyes happen to stray, accidentally, a bit beyond the heads of the hundreds of people at the ticket counter, you might even get a view of the moat, albeit a moss-covered badly maintained water body, which also entails you to buy a ticket and experience a joy ride over it. One wonders if the authorities ever cared to actually utilize the proceeds from its immense receipts of funds to  renovate and restore the moat and its water quality.

The imposing Bada Darwaza, with its ornate chajjas and intricate carved details, stands at the fag end of a sloping path.

As we overlooked all odds and walked through the Bada Darwaza, the sight of the  imposing gateway, inscribed with geometrical designs over its huge pishtaq, and massive bastions on the two sides, enchanted my vision and I started walking back in time. The projecting chhatris or kiosks, and beautifully carved, ornate jharokhas added to the beauty and elegance of the site, reminding its visitors of its once glorious past, when the Afghan, Sher Shah would have modeled every brick and stone in this structure according to his tastes and refinements. We chose to visit the Qila-i-Kuhna Masjid and so, turned to the left.

One of the largest mosques built in the subcontinent during the sixteenth century, its carving, arches, roofs, Arabic inscriptions and the multi-coloured stones, all reminded me of TGP Spear and his writings. I started feeling my surroundings and thinking how the site and its surroundings might have changed over  time.

The Qila-i-Kuhna Mosque, and the projecting jharokhas on the sides

Once you look at the other end, you will see archaeological fieldwork going on, where attempts are being made to uncover details of habitation at the site of the Purana Qila (then known as the Indraprastha) during the NBPW phase. Near that lies the Sher Mandal, arguably built by Humayun, the second Mughal emperor. From the steps of its library he supposedly fell and passed away. Again close by is a huge well, dug by Sher Shah himself, to conserve water at the site. The coexistence of structures, attributable to individuals and cultures from different phases of Indian history is something worth experiencing and worth engaging with at the Purana Qila. Sadly, you do not get a taste of the same once you turn towards the outside to get a view of the surrounding city from the mosque complex. Huge sky-risers are rising still, construction work is going on full-scale, and modern machineries are all scattered over the place, to remind you that the world outside Sher Shah's citadel and beloved city walls has changed a lot. Twenty first century has encroached upon the surroundings of this palace complex and broken all ties with its  history and its past.

A view of the Hammam , showing the Sher Mandal at a distance; a close-up view of the Hammam.

What particularly attracted me was the Hammam, or the Royal Bath, supposed to have been built around the time of Sher Shah. Its remains lie in the form of some low brick buildings. In its underground chamber, one can see the remains of a water chute and terracotta pipes, and some arched roofs. Such bath houses providing for both hot and cold water were common in Mughal architecture and can be seen in a much refined form in the Red Fort as well. Given its strategic location, one must not undermine or overlook the significance of this  structure in any way. However, the sight of some ten or twenty individuals, of all ages, jumping all over the place, climbing up and down the structure, clicking selfies was quite thought-inducing, if not disturbing. For someone like me, who has seen people taking selfies in front of Iltutmish's Tomb in the Qutb Complex, this was not something  shocking. However, I started thinking closely how the significance of some structures change over time. What was once built as a royal bath could later on be conceived of as an amusement spot, almost like a ride at an amusement park. My string of thought was broken by the whistling of the guards at the site, who had to caution the raucous gang that this sixteenth century structure was not intended to be climbed and jumped all over. 

It is unfortunate that one cannot now enter into the Sher Mandal, the octagonal towering structure, the stairs of which Humayun missed and fell down. Quite clearly, it is because of uninformed audiences and visitors like the ones whom I happened to encounter, who would have surely attempted to jump down the Sher Mandal windows (if possible!) that these buildings are no longer open to us. Thus, our attempt at experiencing the history at these sites must discount for these restrictions.

It was time for us to leave the site. One morning's visit to the Purana Qila has taught me a lot of things. During the post-Partition trauma, a lot of refugees found  shelter in the Purana Qila complex. For those homeless people, these walls and bastions were the ideal "Din-Panah", as the sixteenth century emperor, Humayun, had once envisaged his palace to be.

However, today, we have somehow relegated the importance of this site and let it pass into that shadowy state of existence into which the Mughal emperor, Akbar would have wanted this site to pass. As the afternoon was setting in, the line of visitors to the site was thickening.

With this writing, I would like to make a  plea to the  informed citizens and authorities of this country that we can, and we should, start educating our fellow countrymen how important the Purana Qila is in our history. Comments such as "these Muslims don't know how to preserve their structures"(which I heard while gazing carefully at the spectacular Qila-i-Kuhna Masjid) should not be made because it is a question of collective heritage and collective preservation, and not merely "their structure" or "our structure." Relegating these sites to mere picnic spots or hangout zones does not justify, if anything, the hundreds of rupees that the foreigners are obliged to pay per person for a visit to the site and its surroundings and experience its history.