It was a routine Friday evening activity for me - going through the events listing in Facebook to find out if anything interesting is lined up in the weekend – when I came across a post by a well-known heritage walk group of Delhi, inviting people to come and explore the fascinating story of Sultan Garhi, India’s ”first Islamic Mausoleum”, with them.
I was intrigued, especially when a quick internet search threw up phrases like “one of the best kept secrets of Delhi”. but had a get-together planned in advance with two of my very good friends next morning when the walk is scheduled. Naturally, I decided to give the event a miss.
However, when I told them about the walk, M and A were eager to join too. We decided to reach the meeting point mentioned by the group (ticket counter of the monument) and see if we could register ourselves on the spot.
From Nelson Mandela Marg, we took a right turn in M's car into Abdul Gaffar Khan Road and then entered into a confused state. Google map was showing a left turn but the only road there was a uneven dirt track. We went past it, but realised after some time that that was the road we were supposed to take to reach our destination, even if it was less travelled by.
To our surprise, it opened up into a wide field, with parts of walls visible here and there and a fortress-like structure standing in between. Who knew that a massive mediaeval mausoleum complex would be found hidden behind the busy and modern Vasant Kunj thoroughfares and buildings!
Sultan Garhi, I later found out from various sites and articles, is actually called Sultan Ghari, coming from the word “ghaar" or cave, not from “garh” or fort, despite looking like a fortress with bastions and huge walls. The tomb was built by Sutan Iltutmish of Slave dynasty for his son Nasiruddin Mahmud, (brother of Razia Sultan) in 1231 AD, after he died in his prime while serving as the Governor of Bengal. Interestingly, the tomb is now revered by local villagers, of all religions, as the mazaar of a Peer Baba. How the prince came to be known as the Peer, is not clear. Some blogs suggest that Iltutmish's grandson, of the same name as his father, was a pious man and it may have led to this image of a Peer being created, but I could not find anything concrete to prove this theory, at least not on the internet. May be I will visit a library someday to find out.
As we reached near the steps of the building, we saw a guard talking to a lady, who certainly did not look like a local. This must be the walk leader, we thought. She asked us, “are you here for the heritage walk?” We replied in the affirmative. “Are you the organizers,” she enquired. “No, are they yet to arrive,” A asked. She replied that no one has turned up and she was thinking of returning home when she saw us and felt her hopes rise. I called the office of the organisation and they informed us that the walk has been cancelled because they received only 2-3 registration requests for it. “Oh, they did not know four participants are waiting here,” M quipped.
The lady suggested, “now that we are here, let's see it.” The ASI guard and a villager named Shakeel, who were chatting idly at the gate, also encouraged us to go and visit the Peer Baba. “Hindu, Muslim sab aate hai yahan. Jo maang loge pura ho jayega (both Hindus and Muslims come here. Whatever is your desire, Baba fulfils them),” said Shakeel, who resides at nearby Pahadi. Traditionally, newly-married couples of the locality also visit to seek blessings from the Peer Baba before starting a new life, he added.
Once you step inside crossing the marbled gate carved with calligraphic inscriptions, your eyes will fall upon a large octagonal flat structure just at the middle of the site, which, at first glance, may look like a covered well but is actually the roof of the grave-chamber. This cave-like strcture has actually led to the tomb being called “ghari” There is one theory that Mahmud saw himself as a sinner and wanted his body to be thrown into a dungeon, though I don't know the authenticity of this claim. The square-shaped courtyard has a marbled white structure on one side which looked like a mosque. There are arched columns and windows as well as rectangular pillars as seen in one part of the Qutab complex. The roof of the mosque is not domed, but pyramidal But the most unusual aspect of this mausoleum was the underground grave-chamber, where we descended after struggling slightly at the rocky and rough stone steps. Most parts of the room was covered by a shroud of darkness, but a ray of light coming through the door up above and a few earthen lamps kept inside by the devotees helped us see the graves, with offerings of green chaddars as can be seen on any Sufi dargah in the sub-continent. Shakeel, who came inside to help and guide us, was telling us again and again to seek something from the Peer. He said people sometimes put chits and letters, seeking boons from the Baba. It reminded me of Firoz Shah Kotla, where devotees place their applications in writing (and in triplicate, one heritage walk leader once told me) in the small dark chambers, believed to be the abode of the djinns who possess magic powers to change your life.
I did not know what should I seek. Health, happiness, knowledge, one bhk flat? “Hazaron Khwahishen Aisi...” I was just thinking if we could have absorbed the silence of the graves and kept it inside us for invoking on a congested city road full of honk-crazy drivers, how would that be?
Sultan Ghari, like many other monuments in India, has its own share of disputes on its origin, confusion about its history and chronicles of competing claims. But I am not going into all these. I think such issues come to the fore because our way of looking at monuments is wrong. We should, instead, try soak the silence of the stones, the starkness of the ravages of time, and take back home the lesson that nothing lasts forever, so make most of your time in this beautiful planet of ours.
As I was coming out of the door of the low-roofed grave-chamber, I bumped my head. Shakeel said, “madam, now you have received the Babaji's blessings.” I thought that was really a blessing by chance, as I never actually planned to visit this tomb, neither did I know that a shrine is located here.
It was time to pocket our blessings, and leave the cricket-playing kids at Sultan Ghari compound behind us, to return to our everyday existence.
I was intrigued, especially when a quick internet search threw up phrases like “one of the best kept secrets of Delhi”. but had a get-together planned in advance with two of my very good friends next morning when the walk is scheduled. Naturally, I decided to give the event a miss.
However, when I told them about the walk, M and A were eager to join too. We decided to reach the meeting point mentioned by the group (ticket counter of the monument) and see if we could register ourselves on the spot.
From Nelson Mandela Marg, we took a right turn in M's car into Abdul Gaffar Khan Road and then entered into a confused state. Google map was showing a left turn but the only road there was a uneven dirt track. We went past it, but realised after some time that that was the road we were supposed to take to reach our destination, even if it was less travelled by.
To our surprise, it opened up into a wide field, with parts of walls visible here and there and a fortress-like structure standing in between. Who knew that a massive mediaeval mausoleum complex would be found hidden behind the busy and modern Vasant Kunj thoroughfares and buildings!
Sultan Garhi, I later found out from various sites and articles, is actually called Sultan Ghari, coming from the word “ghaar" or cave, not from “garh” or fort, despite looking like a fortress with bastions and huge walls. The tomb was built by Sutan Iltutmish of Slave dynasty for his son Nasiruddin Mahmud, (brother of Razia Sultan) in 1231 AD, after he died in his prime while serving as the Governor of Bengal. Interestingly, the tomb is now revered by local villagers, of all religions, as the mazaar of a Peer Baba. How the prince came to be known as the Peer, is not clear. Some blogs suggest that Iltutmish's grandson, of the same name as his father, was a pious man and it may have led to this image of a Peer being created, but I could not find anything concrete to prove this theory, at least not on the internet. May be I will visit a library someday to find out.
As we reached near the steps of the building, we saw a guard talking to a lady, who certainly did not look like a local. This must be the walk leader, we thought. She asked us, “are you here for the heritage walk?” We replied in the affirmative. “Are you the organizers,” she enquired. “No, are they yet to arrive,” A asked. She replied that no one has turned up and she was thinking of returning home when she saw us and felt her hopes rise. I called the office of the organisation and they informed us that the walk has been cancelled because they received only 2-3 registration requests for it. “Oh, they did not know four participants are waiting here,” M quipped.
The lady suggested, “now that we are here, let's see it.” The ASI guard and a villager named Shakeel, who were chatting idly at the gate, also encouraged us to go and visit the Peer Baba. “Hindu, Muslim sab aate hai yahan. Jo maang loge pura ho jayega (both Hindus and Muslims come here. Whatever is your desire, Baba fulfils them),” said Shakeel, who resides at nearby Pahadi. Traditionally, newly-married couples of the locality also visit to seek blessings from the Peer Baba before starting a new life, he added.
Once you step inside crossing the marbled gate carved with calligraphic inscriptions, your eyes will fall upon a large octagonal flat structure just at the middle of the site, which, at first glance, may look like a covered well but is actually the roof of the grave-chamber. This cave-like strcture has actually led to the tomb being called “ghari” There is one theory that Mahmud saw himself as a sinner and wanted his body to be thrown into a dungeon, though I don't know the authenticity of this claim. The square-shaped courtyard has a marbled white structure on one side which looked like a mosque. There are arched columns and windows as well as rectangular pillars as seen in one part of the Qutab complex. The roof of the mosque is not domed, but pyramidal But the most unusual aspect of this mausoleum was the underground grave-chamber, where we descended after struggling slightly at the rocky and rough stone steps. Most parts of the room was covered by a shroud of darkness, but a ray of light coming through the door up above and a few earthen lamps kept inside by the devotees helped us see the graves, with offerings of green chaddars as can be seen on any Sufi dargah in the sub-continent. Shakeel, who came inside to help and guide us, was telling us again and again to seek something from the Peer. He said people sometimes put chits and letters, seeking boons from the Baba. It reminded me of Firoz Shah Kotla, where devotees place their applications in writing (and in triplicate, one heritage walk leader once told me) in the small dark chambers, believed to be the abode of the djinns who possess magic powers to change your life.
I did not know what should I seek. Health, happiness, knowledge, one bhk flat? “Hazaron Khwahishen Aisi...” I was just thinking if we could have absorbed the silence of the graves and kept it inside us for invoking on a congested city road full of honk-crazy drivers, how would that be?
Sultan Ghari, like many other monuments in India, has its own share of disputes on its origin, confusion about its history and chronicles of competing claims. But I am not going into all these. I think such issues come to the fore because our way of looking at monuments is wrong. We should, instead, try soak the silence of the stones, the starkness of the ravages of time, and take back home the lesson that nothing lasts forever, so make most of your time in this beautiful planet of ours.
As I was coming out of the door of the low-roofed grave-chamber, I bumped my head. Shakeel said, “madam, now you have received the Babaji's blessings.” I thought that was really a blessing by chance, as I never actually planned to visit this tomb, neither did I know that a shrine is located here.
It was time to pocket our blessings, and leave the cricket-playing kids at Sultan Ghari compound behind us, to return to our everyday existence.
(My pic: courtsey M)
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