Zafar Mahal in Mehrauli has indeed fallen on bad days and quick action needs to be taken to preserve it, in spite of the fact that the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) is handicapped as the building does not enjoy the status of a fully protected monument. In his book, “Zafar and the Raj”, Prof Amar Farooqui says that while the last emperor’s official abode was the Lal Qila, in which about 3000 members of the Timruid family were resident, his seasonal retreat was Zafar Mahal, not far from the Dilkusha (the delight of the heart) built or rather renovated by the British Resident Sir Thomas Metcalfe.
The East India Company’s official representative in Delhi had converted part of the 17th Century mausoleum of Mohammad Quli Khan as his summer retreat. But Zafar Mahal was an extensive palace to which both Zafar and his father made frequent trips. “It was a secondary imperial establishment maintained on a permanent basis, complete with a Dewan-e-Khas where the routine of the daily durbars of the Red Fort was replicated. The Qutub (area palace) was thus an extension of the Red Fort, imitating the lifestyle of the emperor”. The professor goes on to say that despite the fact that Sheikh Ibrahim Zauq continued to be the poet laureate, it was to Mirza Ghalib that the Emperor turned for enjoyment of personal company from 1850. “Zauq’s verse was increasingly reserved for public occasions whereas Mirza Nausha (Ghalib) was frequently invited to recite at private sessions. For instance on a cold, rainy February morning in 1851, when Bahadur Shah skipped his morning riding excursion, Ghalib was summoned to Zafar Mahal to recite some poetry of his own composing with which His Majesty was pleased and presented him with a choga (gown).” So a warm friendship had developed between the two long before Zafar became Ghalib’s pupil (after Zauq’s death in 1854). Imagine Ghalib going all the way to Mehrauli to entertain the Emperor –– a long distance from his haveli in Gali Mir Qasim Jan, Ballimaran. So Zafar Mahal during certain parts of the year was the hub and centre of the activities of the Emperor while he was away from the Red Fort.
How long did Ghalib take to cover the distance while travelling in a horse-drawn carriage? Two hours at least and on the way he stopped to savour the sights and sounds, past Delhi Gate, and the vegetable fields (with the well of sisters’-in-law and Shahji-ka-talab) that covered the area now occupied by J. P. Hospital, then the Kotla, Khooni Darwaza, the shrine of Matka Pir, the Purana Qila, Lal Darwaza and the adjoining mosque, Kos Minar, Nila Gumbad and on to Nizamuddin where he recited a verse or two in honour of the saint to please the residents of Basti Nizamuddin. Then the rain-refreshed fields, the monuments of many dynasties and finally Zafar Mahal where he was received with due honour by the king’s attendants, before being ushered into the royal presence.
One cannot help recounting one’s own experience some years ago in August: “Sitting atop Zafar Mahal in Mehrauli one watched two kites involved in a tangle in the monsoon sky. The yellow and red paper kites, with streamers attached to them to counter the strong breeze, looked like a pair of elegant dancers against the backdrop of clouds, some dark and some bright because of the rays of the setting sun illuminating them. Cheek by jowl stood the monuments of this historic area of Delhi, with the Qutub rising above them all.
“It is a matter of time before this monument of the twilight of the Mughals begins to crumble. Built by Akbar Shah-II, successor of Shah Alam, it was completed by Bahadur Shah Zafar who also erected its imposing gateway and named it after him. The pattern of Zafar Mahal is akin to the Chhatta Chowk of the Red Fort and its gateway bears a faint resemblance to the Buland Darwaza of Fatehpur Sikri, which Zafar saw while he was a young prince fond of hunting, eating and wrestling.
“After the rainy season Zafar’s court, like that of his father, moved to Mehrauli where the Phool Walon-ki-Sair reached its glamorous end. From the balcony of Zafar Mahal, hookah in hand, Zafar watched the procession of ‘pankhas’ wending its way to the shrine of Qutub Sahib and later to the Yogmaya temple. After that he ate the delicious dishes prepared by royal cooks. Now one gets the smell of cheap rice being cooked by refugees from Bangladesh who have encroached on the area and made it dirtier and more ragged than it ever was. But the trick to enjoy an evening at Zafar Mahal is to sit on the terrace and savour the sights around. There are hearts of love on the dome, pierced by badly drawn arrows with the names or initials of those trying to perpetuate their one-sided romance. ‘MS Loves SS’ stares you in the face. It’s written with a piece of chalk. The rains will wash it off. But there are other initials, which have been inscribed with sharp objects and will stay on as ugly scars.
“Zafar himself was great kite-flier who could win a tangle even in old age. Did he ever cut nine kites with his single one to win the title of Nowshera? Meanwhile the tangle overhead has ended and the red kite goes sailing past the Qutub like a dancer on her last legs. Drops of rain make you hurry down and be greeted by the smell of burnt dal which the refugees will eat with the rice boiled earlier. Once the aroma of roasting venison, pulau and zarda filled this place, along with the fragnance of attar. That’s the difference in the fortunes of Zafar Mahal then and now”. Things have worsened since that August day long ago. What a pity!
The author is a veteran chronicler of Delhi
