Sept_13

DESTINATION
It is almost like stepping into the long-forgotten pages
of history. With its historical monuments and edifices,
folklore about star-crossed lovers Rani Roopmati and
Baz Bahadur, and exquisite palaces and ornamental
canals, Mandu has a surreal yet romantic feel to it. Making
a trip here was like a dream come true as this ancient city
had been on our to-do list for a long time.
As we stepped into an abandoned watch tower in Mandu,
archaic and crumbling, green hill slopes flared and plunged
into ravines, while silence pooled around us like soothing
balm. A table for two beckoned; it stood on rugs strewn
with flower petals and bolsters for post-lunch relaxation.
Even as we savoured our gourmet meal, thick mist rolled
in like the billowing garb of a whirling dervish. Claps of
thunder, gusts of rain and wind followed, underscoring
the-only-people-in-the-world feeling that swamped us.
Suddenly, nature’s special effects ceased, as though a movie
director had shouted, “Cut!” In the heart-stopping silence
that followed, we realised that Mandu in the rains has an
added sheen of mystique when new life seems to thrust
itself up everywhere—on the rocky soil and sun-bleached
hills. As Emperor Jehangir famously exulted: “What words
of mine can describe the beauty of the grass and wild flowers...
I know of no place so pleasant in climate and so pretty
as Mandu during the rains.”
Indeed, Mandu in any season (barring high summer) is the
stuff of dreams and legend, a historic getaway built on a
spur jutting out of the Vindhya range, 2,000 ft above sea
level. The hill fort is ensconced within 45 km of parapet
walls that march across the mountains and are punctuated
by 12 gateways. The town served as a strategic military
outpost for different rulers and dynasties over the centuries
and, in the 13 th century, came under the sway of the
sultans of Malwa, the first of whom renamed it Shadiabad
or City of Joy. It is believed that at that time the citadel was
suffused with joy with the self-indulgent rulers building
exquisite palaces, ornamental canals, baths and pavilions.
When Emperor Akbar led his all-conquering army into
Mandu, he was so bewitched by the city that in a fit of
jealous rage, he ordered some of the monuments razed to
make it less attractive. Yet, under the Mughals, the town
continued to reign as a pleasure resort and its lakes and
palaces were the scene of festivity. Later, inexplicably,
Mandu slipped into oblivion.
Today, the plateau town dotted with monuments, scattered
over 8 sq mile, is a delightful escape for tourists looking
for romance and solitude. The graceful and solid edifices
are located in three main clusters: the Village Group, Royal
Enclave and Rewa Kund complex. A main street lined with
mud and brick houses leads to the hub of the small town
and extends to Adivasi villages on the fringes. In the heart
of the town, banyan trees with roots hanging like a sadhu’s
dreadlocks rub shoulders with fat baobab trees reportedly
brought to the country by the Abyssinian slaves of
the sultans.
Nowhere is Mandu more dramatic than around the Jahaz
Mahal (Ship Palace), the centrepiece of the Royal Enclave—especially
in the rains. The levels of the lakes on
either side of the palace start to rise and the 120-m-long
building, with its pavilions and overhanging balconies, appears
to float like a ghostly pleasure craft on the waters.
Ghiyas-ud-din Khilji, the sultan who built the Jahaz Mahal,
also constructed the adjacent Turkish baths, the Champa
Baodi, a subterranean escape hatch for women and the harem
that housed 15,000 women. A devout man who never
missed namaaz or touched a drop of wine, Ghiyasuddin,
however, loved to surround himself with women. Even
on ceremonial occasions, Turkish and Abyssinian women
masquerading as armed guards flanked his throne.
Yet, this elegant edifice is swathed in an aura of otherworldly
mystery and sadness; as though sorrow is its sec-
Visitors add a splash of colour to the ruins; fishermen in the lake around Jahaz Mahal
58 harmony celebrate age september 2013