Legend Has It
Chock-a-block with centuries-old mosques and mausoleums, Ahmedabad’s wealth of architecture leaves rathina sankari awed
“where are you heading to next?” quizzes my inquisitive friend. “Gujarat!” I exclaim with fervour. “So, it’s time for fafda — jalebi, theplas and dhoklas,” my friend returns, listing with a laugh the innumerable Gujarati snacks natives tuck into on any given day. Though traditional fare in the western state of India was in the cards, my sine qua non of this trip was visiting India’s only Unesco World Heritage City, Ahmedabad.
While the city is not much on the tourist trail, in the bygone era it saw the advent of the Sultanate, Mughals, Marathas, British and Sidis from Africa. It is also the land of the worldrenowned figure, Mahatma Gandhi. A strange course of events led to the foundation of this city. Legend has it that Sultan Ahmed Shah noticed a hare chasing a dog along the banks of the Sabarmati River. He was much amazed by the bravery displayed by the otherwise timid animal. The incident left a lasting impression on the Sultan and he decided to build his capital here. In the decades that followed, a magnificent city with arresting architecture sprang up by the banks of the Sabarmati River in the 15th century called Amdavad (by the locals) or Ahmedabad.
While the west end of the river is home to numerous additions in the last six decades, including the prestigious Indian Institute of Management (IIM) and the National Institute of Design, it is the East that has long fascinated me. So on a clear sunny day, I take a taxi from
my hotel to the heart of the old city and my first stop is the Sidi Sayeed Mosque. Sidi Sayeed is believed to have come to Gujarat from Habeshah (Ethiopia) via Yemen and served Sultan Nasir-ud-din Mahmud III. A nobleman with a heart of gold built this monument in 1572. As I walked around the place, which also houses the tomb of the great man, I noticed few men performing ablutions prior to their morning prayer. The main attraction of the mosque is its jali lattice work, with a palm motif and intertwined foliage known as Tree of Life. The sun streams through the gaps and casts a beautiful halo through the stone screen. Using paper cut-outs of the stone screens, wooden models were made for museums in London and New York. The Tree of Life has become the distinguished logo of IIM Ahmedabad.
I leave the mosque behind, which once served as a government office during the British rule, and take the route towards Bhadra Fort. In its prime, its walls extended across the old city with its imposing Teen Darwaza (Three Gates) serving as an entrance to the fort from the city side.
As I cross Teen Darwaza, I can’t help but remember the legend I’d heard that morning from the cab driver. When Lakshmi (the Hindu goddess of wealth) was leaving the city she was stopped by the guard and asked to wait till he returns with the Sultan’s permission. The poor guy was beheaded to ensure she never leaves the city, which is why the city has stayed prosperous, explained the cab driver.
Amid the cacophony, I walk through the city with its homogenous planning of pur (neighbourhoods), pol (residential streets) and khadki (inner entrance to pol). The narrow lanes emphasising communal associations, houses with common walls, ample lighting and ventilation are based on the Islamic tenets. This allowed for easy accessibility to the markets, bazaars and mosques.
As the city grew over the years, the number of mosques and mausoleums increased. One not to be missed is the Ahmed Shah’s Mosque, which was commissioned by the Sultan himself as a royal chapel. Here the zenana (ladies) enclosure features rich artistic lattice work and the carvings on its 25 pillars are not to be missed. But the real draw in Ahmedabad is the Jama Masjid. I step into the quiet expanse of its courtyard with a tank in the centre and ringed by an arcade painted with large Arabic calligraphy.
Built in 1423 by Ahmed Shah, the serenity of the mosque is a complete contrast to the chaos of the old city. Kids are
busy flying kites in its courtyard as I pass them towards the prayer hall. The entrance has me spellbound — the gigantic columns with intricate carvings is not something I had expected in a mosque. The ornate work has me riveted. The prayer hall with 260 columns is a beautiful example of Indo-saracenic architecture. It is said the rulers of the period incorporated rudiments of local religious structures into the construction of mosques, which resulted in this indigenous style of architecture. It is an amalgamation of Islam, Hindu and Jain architectural elements. During the 1819 earthquake the sandstone mosque with 15 domes lost two of its minarets, but the structure still stands strong.
Stepping out of one of its exits, I enter a narrow lane where goats laze around. Little did I know, I had reached the rear end of Badshah no Hajiro, or the tomb of Ahmed Shah. The shepherd minding his sheep directs me to the monument. While the interiors are nothing to shout about, the carvings and latticework in the surrounding exterior walls will catch your eye. The lady selling flowers at its entrance tells me about the tomb of the ladies of the royal family across the road called Rani no Hajiro.
I walk past Manek Chowk, a colourful market selling various goods during the day. I am told by shopkeepers to visit at night for its vast variety of street food. Stalls selling pav bhaji dosa (crepes), chocolate sandwiches, kulfi (Indian ice cream) and many other delicacies are found here.
But eating can wait, for I am eager to visit the elegant Sarkhej Roza, an architectural complex of mosques and the tomb of Sufi saint Shaikh Ganj Baksh Khattu (advisor to Sultan Ahmed Shah) that’s 7km from the old city. No trip to Ahmedabad is complete without the Acropolis of Ahmedabad, as Sarkhej Roza was dubbed by famous French architect Le Corbusier. “Taxi,” I call out, as my quest for Ahmedabad’s historical monuments continues.