Discover Telangana

- Raana Haider

The aesthetics that flourished under the Muslim Nizams of Hyderabad were revealed in a fabled world of architecture, cuisine, fashion, music, textiles and the fine arts. The final product was the quintessential Hyderabadi Nawabi culture, a cultural heritage dear to all in the Indian sub-continent. I feel privileged to have had a glimpse of the Nizam’s Hyderabad, a lifestyle that traditionally combined old world charm with sophistication and gracious living. There was an inherent elegance and refinement in the Hyderabadi style that, all would agree, has been eroded with time. The process of history has left a somewhat beleaguered city, once known for the art of living. Yet it visibly remains a hub of heritage and an amalgam of a slow and pulsating manner of living. Hyderabad, on the other hand, today wears another feather in its cap as it moves along in the march of history. It is now a hub of hi-tech, and has also been referred to as Cyberabad.

The fortified city of Golconda, the old capital of the region at a short distance from the city of Hyderabad, is formidable in its granite construction with its massive ramparts extending some seven kilometres. Golconda was the capital of an empire with extensive maritime trade and commercial exchanges. The earlier capital of the Qutb Shah Nizam rulers was founded in the thirteenth century by the Kakatiyas dynasty. Here existed hot and cold running water via deeply laid pipes for cold and solar-heated water that supplied far-flung living quarters. The most astounding feature of the ancient fortress city is the acoustic system. An architectural marvel has produced a brilliant defence warning system whereby the clapping of hands at the entrance hall reverberates a kilometer away, on the hill top palace Bala Hissar. I was reminded of the same acoustic marvel at the Jum a mosque in Esfahan, Iran, whereby the imam’s khutbah sermon at namaaz prayers could be heard far and wide without the use of modern day microphones. The design of curved panels within the inner dome ceiling creates the resonating sound effect. Here architectural technology preceded electronic advances.

Golconda was renowned in the seventeenth century as a vibrant centre for the cutting and polishing of precious stones. Trade in diamonds, topazes, emeralds, rubies, agates and other precious stones thrived. Pearls from all over the world were to be found in Golconda since artisans were skilled in piercing and stringing pearls without damaging them. Hyderabad has retained its reputation as the ‘Pearl City of India’. In 1645, a French jeweller and traveller provided an eyewitness account of seeing 60,000 artisans at work. The Kohinoor diamond is one of the legendary precious stones mined in the Golconda sultanate. The seventh and last Nizam of Hyderabad, Mir Osman Ali Khan (1886-1967), possessed a legendary collection. The Government of India bought a collection of 173 precious jewels of exquisite workmanship in 1995 from the Jewellery Trust set up by the seventh Nizam of Hyderabad. The superb and rare collection that has been termed both ‘peerless and flawless’ was exhibited for public viewing at the National Museum, New Delhi for the first time, followed by an exhibition in Hyderabad. The current value of the collection is estimated between Rs. 1200 and 1500 crore. We, unfortunately, were unable to see either of the above temporary exhibitions.

A small compensation is the book Jewels of the Nizams by Usha R. Bala Krishnan with photographs by Bharath Ramamruthan, a veritable feast for the eyes. Brilliant photographs capture the extraordinary jewels in a rare visual treat. One can fantasise about wearing a magnificent collar-hugging necklace, Chintak Neelum, that is gold set with diamonds, sapphires, sapphire drops and pearls. It was made in the Deccan in the early twentieth century. It weighs 276 gm. Alternatively, one could choose to possess a pair of exquisite anklets, or even a single Paizeb Murassa that is set in gold with diamonds and also enamelled on the inner side. Also made in the Deccan in the nineteenth century, it weighs a cool 750 gm.

Hyderabad was founded in 1590 by Mohammed Quli Qutb Shah, a descendant of the royal family of Hamadan in Persia. He married Bhagmati, a princess from the neighbouring empire of Vijayanagar. His newly formed capital, away from Golconda, was named Bhagnagar in honour of his beloved. In time, the metropolis came to be known as Hyderabad. An influx of artisans and scholars from Persia and Central Asia contributed to the flourishing of the new city. Successive Nizams became known as generous patrons of the arts.

Hyderabad was designed on the Persian model with Esfahan being the prototype. There were multi-storied buildings, five to seven stories high. Hospitals, schools, colleges, shops, markets, public baths, caravanserais and extensive gardens filled with green grandeur completed the new urban setting. The Charminar Four Minaret mosque constituted the centre of the city. An architectural innovation, the four soaring, slender minarets encircle a small mosque on the second floor of the building wherefrom the four main arteries of the city extend outwards. Closed to the public since 1986 when a family committed suicide by jumping from the upper floors, the first floor has now been reopened to visitors who with fortitude climb the steep stairs. And all around is the hustle and bustle of the bazaar of the old city of Hyderabad. It is heartening to find this part of the city clean. The bazaars around Charminar are much as they existed in the pages of history. Artisans of all trades abound. I visited the sparkling choori (bangle) bazaar and succumbed to temptation. Wafts of attar perfume floated by us. Red and gold bridal wear glittered in the stalls and shops.

The colourful proliferation of shop signboards caught my eye. I noticed Patang House (House of Kites), surely not a retail outlet much visible anywhere. There was Madina House for Bangles, Begum’s Tailor and Afzal Mia’s Tailoring House for apparel wear. French Hairdresser in old Hyderabad would take care of beautification aspirations, by a French person! Afsar Café appeared to be an interesting combination. Books were the business of Hashim Printing Press and Matab-e-Turabia Bookseller. Hakeem Mirza Lutfullah would cater to one’s prescriptive needs. I could not decipher the occupation of Huzoor Enterprises and Muniya Consultant. One’s culinary palate was definitely aroused by the headboards that proclaimed Aadab Sweets and Restaurant, Grand Irani Haleem and Karachi’s Shezan Restaurant. Traditional Hyderabadi sweets are Badaam ka Jali and Ashrafi (sweets stamped with the seal of the Royal State). Any number of paan shops was to be seen. We could have shopped at Bombay Bakery or Karachi Bakery. We, however, bought Hyderabadi Athari Naan bread from a shop that reminded me of bakery shops in old Dhaka. There they were stacked up in glass cupboards with wooden frames. I was reminded of the old Dhaka delight bakharkhani, wafer-like biscuit bread that was stored in similar units. In fact, the entire neighbourhood of old Hyderabad brought to mind a bygone era of Dhaka. Old Dhaka in the 1960s is my recollection of present-day old parts of Hyderabad. The comment by Pakistani writer Fouzia Saeed on her recent visit to Hyderabad came to mind. It’s more like a mirror to my home. There is a sense of deja vu while wandering the streets of the old city.

Tantalised taste buds were gratified the following night at a gourmet gala dinner at the Falaknuma Palace built by a local aristocrat in the late nineteenth century. The palace, perched on a hill some 2000 feet high and known as

‘The Palace in the Skies’, was subsequently sold to the sixth Nizam of Hyderabad in 1897. An Italian architect designed the imposing edifice in white in the classical style with a two-storied deep and colonnaded verandah. Renowned as a treasure trove of art and architecture, the Falaknuma Palace, under process of being converted into a heritage hotel by the Taj Group, is not open to the public. The palace has 222 rooms built across 300 acres of land. A dining table can seat more than a hundred people. Ceiling fans made of cut glass were installed to keep the residents cool. Yet, in an ironic twist of fate, the builder Nawab and Prime Minister Vikar-ul Umraud Daulah never lived in his home, which was a labour of love, for he died in a prison cell. A similar fate was that of Nicolas Fouquet of Vaux-le-Vicomte palace in France. The Vaux-le-Vicomte chateau, built in the mid-seventeenth century, was the precursor of the Versailles Palace built by the Sun King Louis XIV outside Paris. Louis XIV was enraged at the masterpiece in art, architecture, interior décor and landscaping that resulted in Vaux-le-Vicomte. It does not pay for a minister to upstage his master, for royal egos are particularly delicate. Charles Churchill (1731-1764), an English poet, clergyman and political writer, once cuttingly described egoists in the following manner: ‘He sickened of all triumphs but his own.’

A massive central courtyard garden was laid out for the evening’s entertainment. Discreet lighting from the verandahs and large candle-lit arrangements augmented with diya lights created a magical setting. We feasted on the traditional Hyderabadi cuisine of biryani, haleem, nahari, patthar ka gosht (large pieces of mutton roasted on heated stone), bagara baingan and satisfied our sweet teeth on double-roti-ka meetha (a pudding made of bread), qubani-ka meetha (made of fine apricots that was served with cream or ice-cream), malai kulfi, garam jelabi with rabdi or sviyan ka muzzafar. The musical-sounding names of the desserts were as alluring as the contents. As we left the memorable evening of a royal repast, we helped ourselves generously to the final icing on the cake, mouth-watering paan. Earlier, we had also been treated to quawali singers whose melodious and evocative voices added to our gastronomical journey through an erstwhile era of the Nizams of Hyderabad.

In 1687, the Moghul emperor Aurangzeb overran the Hyderabad Deccan. Viceroys were installed as rulers of Hyderabad. As Moghul authority waned after Aurangzeb’s death in 1707, the Viceroys consolidated their rule and went on to become independent rulers. On a poignant note, Aurangzeb once remarked: ‘After me, chaos!? The bitter knowledge that despite all his titanic efforts, the Moghul Empire was disintegrating before him, led him to lament: ‘Alas, my life has been wasted in vain! I have merely consumed a quantity of water and fodder.’ In 1724, one of the Viceroys, the Governor of Auragabad Asaf Jah 1 became the First Nizam of Hyderabad. He was known as Nizam-ul-Mulk ‘Regulator of the Land’. His Turkish grandfather had come to India in the seventeenth century.

Considerable juggling of time was needed to pay a visit to the Nizam’s Museum. Yet, how to leave Hyderabad without a visit to the Purani Haveli Palace built in the 1780s by the second Nizam. The U-shaped central building is one-storied and flanked by two-storied wings overlooking a central garden courtyard. The first manually operated lift in India was installed in 1878 and is still functional. Engineers from London came to install it, and it has a capacity for 6-8 persons. We, however, went down the stairs to the museum.

Earlier, we were awestruck by the world’s largest dressing room-cum-cupboard hallway. The size of a ballroom in a palace, the two-storied wooden wardrobe has on display suits, jackets, shirts, kurtas and pyjamas in silk, brocade, velvet; a shelf was stacked only with safari hats, another with Hyderabadi hats, dastans and turbans; another cupboard displayed a row of boots, yet another day shoes, another traditional moojiri shoes.Then there were shelves of French perfume bottles and another cupboard stocked with attar bottles. The entire arrangement was any woman’s dream storage.

One of the wings holds the Silver Jubileee Museum of the seventh Nizam. On the occasion of the twenty-fifth year of rule of the Nizam in 1937, the souvenirs, gifts and mementoes that were presented to him were organised by the Nizam himself in order to offer to his people a display of the rich collection of gifts by labour unions, religious bodies, associations, public organisations and private individuals both from India and abroad. It is a fascinating and dazzling collection. We were mesmerised by silver ghava coffee cups studded with diamonds, a silver gilt model of the Jubilee Pavilion, models of the newly-built railway station, central market and High Court in silver, an exquisitely delicate silver paandan, ithardan and gulabdan, all in one. Nawab Saheb Chattari presented a silver cigarette case to the seventh Nizam in 1946. I recall an Ambassador of Pakistan to Jordan Nawab Chattari in the late 1960s, who was a colleague of my father who at the time was Ambassador of Pakistan to Lebanon. We meandered through a vast repository of mementoes through the mists of time; black and white photographs of His Exalted Highness and Shah Reza Pahlavi and Princess Soraya of Iran, British royalty, and many long gone royal personalities looked on. Of the seventh Nizam’s two sons, one lives in Turkey and the other in London. Both sons married Turkish princesses of the erstwhile Ottoman Empire. One of the princesses passed away a few years ago in Paris. The surviving daughter-in-law, now in her nineties, lives in London.

As we toured the city, the Osmania University, designed by a British architect on the banks of the dry Musi River, stood out for its Indo-Sarcenic architecture, complete with marble inlay and jaali lacework. Shades of distant Damascus are to be seen in the form of the huge archway. Rabindranath Tagore remarked that architecturally Osmania University stands for the ‘harmonious blending of Muslim and Hindu coexistence and reflects the communal harmony that has existed between the communities since centuries’. Established in 1918 by the last and seventh Nizam of Hyderabad, Osman Ali Khan, it is the first university in India where the medium of instruction was in an Indian language- Urdu. Tagore also declared, ‘I have long been waiting for the day when, free from the shackles of a foreign language, our education becomes naturally accessible to all our people.’ The motto of the seventh Nizam was: ‘Hindus and Muslims are my two eyes’? A natural osmosis in the synthesis of culture appears to permeate Hyderabad. The fusion of composite culture is evident even today in various forms. The assimilation of multiple cultures is manifested in the unique Hyderabadi culture that evolved over time.

Coming away from Hyderabad, I promised myself that I must read William Dalrymple’s ‘White Mughals’ published in 2002. This is the story of James Kirkpatrick, an East India Company soldier who became the British Resident of Hyderabad, and Khair-un-Nissa, the daughter of the Nizam’s prime minister. The love story and subsequent marriage based on archival material sourced in India and the United Kingdom reveals the little-known cultural cross-over that dotted the social fabric of the British Raj. With this plump book, I hope to be transported for a longer period to the hub of heritage that is Hyderabad.

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Raana Haider writes on global cultural heritage.

Source: Internet Edition, HOLIDAY heritage & habitat, April 18, 2003