A tribute to a polymath historian who recently passed away.
Dr Ziauddin Ahmed Shakeb at the Qutb Shahi tombs in Hyderabad, October 2013. Photo: Author provided
I first met Dr Mohammed Ziauddin Ahmed Shakeb in the summer of 2011, as a naïve PhD student who’d arrived in Hyderabad from Los Angeles wanting to “read Shah Jahan’s documents”. He asked me the very standard question asked of research students in India, “What is your topic?”
I only had a rather incoherent answer to give to Shakeb, the man who had, among other things, created the Mughal Record Room, in what is today known as the Telangana State Archives. Located in a nondescript building at the periphery of the Osmania University campus in the dusty precinct of Tarnaka, this institution has undergone numerous transformations over the course of a half-century of its existence in Hyderabad. But institutions were often narrow and unimaginative places for sustaining a towering figure such as Shakeb. He went on to have a long and eclectic life and career that consistently defied the logic and constraints of institutions, for he was himself an institution. The loss of Shakeb is thus far more than the loss of an individual.
His was a formidable generation of post-Independence intellectuals from different parts of the subcontinent who, from the 1950s, devoted themselves to preserving its languages, repairing and reconstructing our scattered archives and libraries, and re-imagining our past(s) long before colonialism. Shakeb embodied, above all, a boundless curiosity coupled with a complete disregard for trends, ‘schools,’ cliques, and fancy theories.
He was not interested in being a Marxist or a nationalist nor in chasing the Western academy’s greener pastures. In some ways, his foremost allegiance was to the detritus of the past itself – to what paper, ink, and materiality mean and what they can tell us about our past and present selves. He asked, what a document or manuscript had gone through over centuries, how had it come to be, and how can we best preserve thousands of paper fragments for future generations so we can continue to tell their stories?
This rare commitment to the study and preservation of archival knowledge led him to write the landmark catalog, Mughal Archives Vol I: A Descriptive Catalogue of the Documents Pertaining to the Reign of Shah Jahan, in 1977, followed by many publications for The British Library, State Archives Andhra Pradesh, and other repositories, universities, and auction houses. I remember asking Shakeb once why he was so committed to creating reference tools to access rare historical materials, and he answered, “because I know no one will care to read them in the future!” In some ways, he was right.
Today, when the stakes for writing about the subcontinent’s pasts are fraught and closely tied to an ongoing project of hollowing out academic institutions, it’s worth remembering a very different kind of Indian historian.
Shakeb standing in the second row, in a group photo from a conference in March 1968 at Andhra University, Visakhapatnam. Also pictured are G.H. Khare, Mohibbul Hasan, V.K. Bawa, P.M. Joshi, Suvira Jaiswal, Burton Stein, and Eugene Irschick, among others. Photo: Author provided
Born on October 21, 1933, Shakeb grew up in Hyderabad and Aurangabad. He studied Political Science and English at Osmania University before heading to Aligarh Muslim University in 1956 for his Masters, where he was taught by Mohammed Habib and S. Nurul Hasan. In 1962, he returned to the south where he was employed as an archivist at what was then known as the State Archives Andhra Pradesh. There, Shakeb acquired the unique training of deciphering documents and identifying their categories, genres, and forms from the last generation of the traditional jagirdari staff of the Nizam’s state who were retiring when he joined the archives. He also worked under Yusuf Husain Khan who had begun the work of processing Mughal administrative documents. The archives thrived under the directorship of committed scholar-administrators such as Hadi Bilgrami and V.K. Bawa.
As rich documentary caches from families, Sufi shrines, and samsthanams were discovered and deposited into state institutions, post-independence archivists and historians confronted challenges, including the reluctance of individuals to part with materials that had been in their homes for centuries. Debates and disputes ensued about what constituted a ‘valuable’ manuscript or document, how to classify materials, and to which regional-linguistic nationalism a remnant ‘belonged.’
These were debates that had already begun in the pre-Independence period, in the work of institutions like the Indian Historical Records Commission. Recent studies of the debates between Jadunath Sarkar and the Maratha historians have traced the longer history of such tensions. Part of the problem was the mutual suspicion between scholars oriented to modern social sciences and those with a more ‘traditional’ orientation and training. Shakeb, the archivist-historian, was at once both and neither.
At a distance from the halls of JNU and Aligarh, where the Mughal state’s merits were being debated, Shakeb inhabited yet another set of worlds. He was at ease reconstructing the household library of Chishti Sufi Abu’l Faiz Minallah in Bidar, discussing the southern India Cholas with the American historian Burton Stein, and discovering a shipwreck off the coast of Masulipatnam in the late 1960s.
Based on newly-processed materials, in 1976, he would complete his doctorate under P.M. Joshi at Deccan College in Pune, a connected history that examined circulation and political diplomacy between Safavid Iran, Mughal India, and the Golkonda sultanate. Shakeb’s study brought the question of mobility and exchange to the centre stage at a time when the norm was to study either the Mughal heartland (often synonymous with Delhi or the northern Indian plains) or select one province of the empire. After many years in archives and universities, Shakeb charted his own path beyond academia. His forensic ability for assessing manuscript provenance, material objects, and documentary genres, allowed him to thrive in other professional contexts, leading to work as a consultant for Christie’s in London.
But, to restrict myself to Shakeb the historian would fail to capture the range of subjects, languages, and disciplines over which he had complete mastery – Persian and Urdu literature, Islamic studies, geography, philosophy, linguistics, and art history. Shakeb always kept the historian’s arrogance in check by reminding her of the literary critic’s skills. The study of prosody and poetics was just as important for making sense of an India without and before English.
Dr Ziauddin Ahmed Shakeb (L) with his friend Dr Leonard Lewisohn (R) at Bidar fort in January 2012. Photo: Author provided
Literary circuits would light up the minute Shakeb landed back in Hyderabad (as they often would in London). He had been working for many years on translating Iqbal’s Persian poetry into Urdu. He was equally committed to the study of Bedil, Ghalib, Dagh, and Amir Minai. He would unveil to students the unique phonetics and cadence of Dakani, the pan-regional literary idiom of southern India, with many living poets and a long literary history, which he emphasised, is yet to be fully understood for its role in shaping classical and modern Urdu.
When he published his dissertation, Relations of Golkonda with Iran, in book form in 2017, he dedicated it to his grandchildren – Itrat, Taha, Mahamid, Khadija, Tawsin, Mahd, Istafa, Fatima, ‘Ali, Nuha – all of whom embody their dadasaab’s fortitude and resilience. I haven’t sufficient words to describe the patience of his wife, Farhat Ahmed, and the enormity of what she has taught me over many years about balancing the scholarly life with everyday living. It was this reminder that grounded Shakeb’s engagement with multiple worlds. His hands that treated every piece of archival paper like a newborn child. Lethal scoldings hurled at junior scholars too convinced of their own greatness. And, never forgetting to make fun of people who take themselves too seriously. With Shakeb’s passing, we are reminded how fragile the threads are that connect us to the past, and how dependent we are on a handful of such individuals. It’s difficult to imagine what, if anything, might come after such larger-than-life figures.
Subah Dayal is Assistant Professor at New York University’s Gallatin School of Individualized Study. Her research is on social and cultural histories of the Deccan and the Indian Ocean world.
source: http://www.thewire.in / The Wire / Home> English> Culture> History / by Subah Dayal / February 10th, 2021
Barely visible from across the new Errum Manzil metro and crushed between rows of commercial buildings, lies an abandoned citadel of knowledge: Idara-e Adabiyat-e-Urdu.
Once a core institution of the city for scholarship of the Deccan, this vast library and its museum, Aiwan-e Urdu – like much of Hyderabad’s heritage – exists in a state of disrepair. It is one of Hyderabad’s fast disappearing independent archival institutions connected to a time before – as ruins beneath the consumerist ravages of the new city. And yet, as we step inside, walk up the stairs to the library in its tower, rummage through dusty catalogues and forlorn books – it feels as though we have entered a magical portal into another world.
Established in 1931 by Syed Mohiuddin Qadri Zore (1905-1962), the most prolific scholar of the Deccan, and built upon lands donated by his wife, the illustrious poetess Tahniyatun-Nissa begum, the Idara houses a vast archival collection. That the library and museum continue to exist at all is due almost entirely to their 73-year-old son, Rafiuddin Qadri, who has devoted himself to managing this house of knowledge. Containing over fifty-thousand books and printed materials, including manuscripts and paintings and artefacts, the purpose of the Idara was to preserve the art, history, and multilingual Deccan literary cultures in Urdu Dakkhani, Persian, and Arabic.
At a cursory glance, the closed doors of the book shelves seem dense and inaccessible. But if one is willing to subject themself to the rigours of an erstwhile knowledge production circuit and has the patience to listen to its many stories rendered in multiple languages and idioms, these doors open up fascinating worlds.
Here, beneath dusty glass encasements, is an original eighteenth-century painting of warrior queen Chand Bibi of the Deccan, and a book about Deccan Radio. The museum is typically kept locked and desperately needs restoration. A dusty lithograph of sixteenth-century Qutb Shahi tughra emerges in fragile condition, alongside an original photograph of Kishen Pershad, an erstwhile prime minister of Hyderabad State under the Asaf Jah Nizams. The museum contains rare royal firmans, inscriptions, maps and genealogical trees, arms and weapons, coins, old garments and cloaks that are not available anywhere else.
Behind this seemingly random collection from the past is the erudite vision of Zore, who was not only a scholar himself but also carefully curated and fostered the production of knowledge.
Rafiuddin Qadri at Idara-e-adabiyat-e-Urdu.
Zore’s son Rafiuddin Qadri sits at a desk in the main hall, surrounded by construction workers, painters, and piles of decaying books and magazines. The sound of traffic on the main road tends to drown out his voice. He is the last of a generation to remember why institutions such as the Idara emerged in Hyderabad during the early to mid-twentieth century. He is soft-spoken, donning his characteristic vest and topi. He carries a dignified scholarly attitude resonant with an earlier time. Exceedingly generous and patient, Qadri carries on a legacy that no longer is valued by the current trends of historical knowledge production in India.
Archives and libraries everywhere in India are under threat of some kind, as history literally rots away . Hence, when serious historians come across independent archival institutions and archivists devoted to the preservation of historical knowledge – like Rafiuddin Qadri – it is worth telling their story.
Once a core institution of the city for scholarship of the Deccan, this vast library and its museum, Aiwan-e Urdu – like much of Hyderabad’s heritage – exists in a state of disrepair.
Descended from a Sufi family of Qandhar and North Deccan, Rafiuddin Qadri’s ancestors came to Hyderabad in the late nineteenth century. His father, Syed Mohiuddin Qadri Zore maintained close ties and commitments to Sufism, both in institutional ways regarding his familial lineage and his philosophical approaches in terms of the spiritual values attributed to seeking out knowledge. Sufi dargahs have traditionally been not only spiritual centres but also major arenas of producing knowledge. At the same time, Zore was a modern visionary, establishing a major institution of learning in Hyderabad, in keeping with the time. “The dawn of the twentieth century was an era of renaissance in the Deccan,” and “a number of institutions such as Asafia Library, Osmania University, Dairatul Maarif, Dar-ul-Tarjuma, Salar Jung Museum, were established which contributed immensely to the production of knowledge about the history and culture of Hyderabad.” Zore was not only a major scholar-administrator – publishing hundreds of books and editing the magazine Sab Ras – he was a key figure who brought together intellectuals while establishing and overseeing the Idara, with the help of his friends, ranging from scholars to local politicians and administrators. This spirit lives on in Rafiuddin Qadri.
Rafiuddin Qadri at the Idara Museum.
Schooled as we have been in the contemporary formalities of accessing archives, when we asked if there was a fee we ought to pay to access the library, Rafiuddin Qadri said, “No, not at all,” and then explained his father’s legacy. “Knowledge should be free”, is the principal hallmark of the Idara. “It is completely against my father’s ethics that one should charge money to scholars as this is a place for them to study and learn freely.” This ethics of scholarship and the writing of history is lost as a result of the commercialisation of intellectual production as well as the privatisation of education in India. “It was meant for the youth of Hyderabad,” says Rafiuddin Qadri, about one of the main purposes of establishing the Idara. “The youth were involved in the world of politics constantly, at a very turbulent time,” referring to the anti-colonial nationalist movements of the 1930s and 1940s. “A quiet space of inquiry was needed where they could go to do intellectual work and to study.” The Idara, then, is a physical space and has served as a much-needed refuge from the noise of the world’s polemics, to think, ponder, reflect, and read, without the constant interruptions of the fast-paced intensity of daily urban life in India, and its demands.
‘Scholars come from all over the world. They say, how did Zore know I would need this document so many years later! He had preserved it!’
The extraction of knowledge out of India and into the corridors of more powerful contexts of intellectual knowledge production – such as academia in the West – has contributed to diminishing the role of those who have cultivated the very libraries and institutions so central to academic research about India. It is often suggested that only British libraries and archives are worth perusing when it comes to various aspects of India’s past, given the colonial codification of Indian knowledge – brought there often by way of loot – were preserved there. Moreover, popular histories of the Deccan for a commercial market dominated by elites and their publishing houses tend to overlook vast swathes of historical knowledge produced in languages other than English, such as Urdu. Zore had been vital to Hyderabad in creating a space, a physical place, a free and open library – of which there are few and far between today. The very idea of a library – one of the few spaces which anyone can visit without having to spend money – is itself a revolutionary idea in contexts such as India. The institution Zore created is today preserved by Rafiuddin Qadri, who belongs to the last generation of living reposit.
The Idara Museum.
Rafiuddin devotedly handles the materials, and carefully walks the corridors he has seen during the many seasons of his life. His eyes light up when he narrates the stories of researchers: “Scholars come from all over the world. They say, ‘how did Zore know I would need this document so many years later! He had preserved it!’”, he muses.
Deccan: A region that resists categorisation
“Even though local Indian historians may know more about the Deccan, they won’t get published as easily as outsiders in the top international presses.”
“This is true. But I feel like we do the same thing unfortunately. Produce knowledge for the West.”
“History as a profession in India seems so dead. The assault is coming from all sides. The propagandistic writing to fit the current ruling ideology, the evisceration of educational spaces, the lack of care, no thought.”
“It’s so depressing.”
“So, how do we talk about the Deccan amidst all this? No one seems to care.”
“Just keep going to the archives and keep writing.”
“Yes, Rafi Sahb is waiting.”
“Is he there now?”
“Yes, he is.”
Calligraphy at the Idara-e-adabiyat-e-Urdu.
Rafiuddin Qadri points to the calligraphic poetry of Dakkhani Urdu gracing the high arches of the main hall of the Idara, with its main chandelier, overlooking what once was a clean and orderly library. “This place is not what it once was, there are very few people who are interested in doing serious work like this in Hyderabad,” he says. It is true. The archivists and knowledge-keepers of these earlier institutions are passing away while their knowledge is not being passed down. As we ask Qadri questions about our respective research projects, he says, “Did you ever meet Zia Shakeb?” We shake our heads. Qadri puts his hands to his head. “Oh, that is too bad. He knew so much. And now he is gone. So much is gone and lost.” In describing the history of the Idara-e-Urdu-e Adabiyat, Qadri also shares with us some old photographs detailing the networks of people instrumental to this library.
Zore imagined Idara, with a differently rooted aesthetic, as a space for people from different languages of the Deccan to work together, to have intellectual camaraderie without being subjected to the pressures of capitalist cycles of publish or perish production.
Qadri shuffles slowly between different rooms of the Idara, all under some kind of construction. He seemingly is displaced not only by time, but also between the once vibrant rooms of his family’s library. Over cups of chai, as we discuss historical research, he advises us about specific catalogues and indexes as he repeatedly issues unheeded calls for the library staff to retrieve particular titles.
What happens once these archives, knowledge, and the custodians of stories about the past are lost? One easy answer is that the region takes on a new identity, more sectarian, more oppressive and discriminatory, built around invented histories that weaponise pasts as archives diminish. Perhaps, a more creative and bolder answer would be, that we increasingly become a society alienated from oneself, lost and rootless – our understanding of history diminished by corporate and profit-making knowledge enclaves such as within the dystopia of a hi-tech city and financial district, Hyderabad’s rapidly developing new urban core. It is the responsibility of professional historians to keep stories of the past in circulation, in the hope that they might make us more empathetic, caring and humane.
Although Qadri claims his memory is fading and not what it once was, we marvel at his ability to recall catalogues, titles, essays, authors, scholars, poets, and multiple editions of books and magazines, produced about the Deccan between the 1930s and 1960s. This earlier period of scholarship about Dakhaniyat is largely ignored, as knowledge produced in the languages of this region, such as Urdu, is not considered as worthy as compared to knowledge produced in English.
The Deccan has long been configured as a region of hope in history, offering alternative ways of belonging, those that do not fit within the nationalist frames of India and Southasia overall.
It is in response to European dominance over the circuits of knowledge about India, that Zore imagined Idara, with a differently rooted aesthetic, as a space for people from different languages of the Deccan to work together, to have intellectual camaraderie without being subjected to the pressures of capitalist cycles of publish or perish production. Accessing the Idara today is not just about mechanically sifting through catalogues until you find what you need, and extracting it – but more about setting the pressures of clock-time aside and the arrogance of earned professional degrees aside, to learn from a life-long archivist. It means opening one’s self up to the humbling, slow and feeble processes of identifying voices in history, which are increasingly lost in the maddening clamour of the market and the deafening contours of nationalist totalitarianisms and fascisms of today.
Interest about the Deccan is growing in India, and new works of popular history have emerged in recent years. There has been some recent acknowledgement that the history of the Deccan has been marginalised, and as one headline pronounced, “Indian history without the Deccan is like European history minus France” for it seems that comparisons to Europe must be made, if Southasian regions are to exist at all within the historical imagination or reading public. Overall, it is the north-centric perspective of India’s historical narratives that continue to dominate Southasia’s study of the past. This is a perspective that largely ignores the Deccan region – today, home to the four linguistically organised states of Maharashtra, Telangana, Andhra Pradesh, and Karnataka. Southasian historians continue to favour and focus upon Punjab, Bengal, and Uttar Pradesh. Meanwhile, it is the Mughal era that dominates scholarship on Southasian Islam when turning to India’s medieval and early modern past. Turning to the Deccan region thus challenges the north-centric perspective of Mughal imperial development that dominates histories of India’s Persianate past.
Syed Mohiuddin Qadri Zore (1905 – 1962).
And yet, it is impossible for any serious scholar or historian undertaking research about Deccan or about Hyderabad – once India’s largest and wealthiest princely state – without coming across the legacy of Syed Mohiuddin Qadri Zore.
Rafiuddin Qadri points out a special issue in Sab Ras about his father in which the author points out that, “Dr. Zore gave voice to the Deccan,” during a period of time in India’s history when communal tensions were on the rise. His was a utopian project of “knowledge for the people,” about a region of Southasia with its own distinct role and shared pasts that cut across religious, linguistic, and communitarian identities. It is to Zore’s credit that the Deccan was situated at all in the historiography of the subcontinent, being one the first scholars to research and write seriously about this region. Zore’s legacy is astounding, and he is, in fact, a key figure in India’s intellectual history. Yet, he has been ignored by historians of India. To write about him means having to situate oneself between the missing pages of Southasian historiography and history, between emphasising the importance of ethical citational practices amidst fast disappearing archives.
The Deccan has long been configured as a region of hope in history, offering alternative ways of belonging, those that do not fit within the nationalist frames of India and Southasia overall. Nawab Ali Yavar Jung, the Vice-Chancellor of Osmania University in the first session of the Deccan History Conference held in April 1945, which was sponsored by Zore said “…the history of the Deccan is, in miniature, the history of India. It mirrors all the great reflexes of Indian History and throws its own reflection back on that larger screen…. Separateness in the midst of geographical unity, isolation in the midst of invasion, such have been its characteristics. The resistance of the south to northern pressure provides an instance of the centrifugal forces which baffled successive efforts to establish one and the same rule over the length and breadth of India…” The region carries the spirit of sovereignty and diversity and this was championed by Idara and Zore. Though not like what it once was, in Hyderabad Deccan there still continues the intermingling of the languages of Telugu, Urdu, and English, with a sprinkling of Marathi, Kannada and Tamil.
Archival image of Aiwan-e-Urdu.
The pluralism and cosmopolitanism of the Deccan is reflected in the physical building of the Idara itself, whose construction occurred in 1955, with the patronage of the Government of India, the Nizam Trust, and several other entities in and outside of Hyderabad, from the state of Andhra Pradesh to Kashmir – where Zore was eventually laid to rest. The Indo-Islamic architecture and designs are inspired by Qutb Shahi domes, Indic lotuses of Hindu mythology, Bahmani latticework, flowering buds of the Egyptian Nile, and Spanish minarets and arches, with a main front door meant to represent the gates and doorways of so many forts of India.
Not only was Zore among the chief intellectual architects of Dakhaniyat, he was responsible for building several educational institutions and was at the helm of vast intellectual production. His entire education through his Masters degree was completed in Hyderabad. Born in 1905, Zore was educated in a primary school in a Kayasth Pathshala, where he learned English, and where his fondness grew for poetry, public speaking and debate. By high school he had not only already established a debate society but also a small library. He later joined Darul Uloom and City College and ultimately the College of Arts and Social Sciences at Osmania University.
Descended from a Sufi family of Qandhar and North Deccan, Rafiuddin Qadri’s ancestors came to Hyderabad in the late nineteenth century.
Osmania University is the first university in India to introduce a vernacular language (Urdu) as the medium of instruction. It aimed, among other things, to translate knowledge, including science textbooks into Urdu, which was a remarkable project, and contributed to a cosmopolitan ‘worlding of the Deccan.’ There, Zore eventually became Head of the Department of Urdu, where he was a founding member of ‘Mujalla-e Osmania’, the first Bilingual English-Urdu magazine at Osmania University. He was the first to work seriously on Urdu-Hindi linguistics and phonetics, and later published a book called Ruh-e-Tanqid, which was one of the earliest works of Urdu literary criticism. Widely travelled, journeying to London, Paris, as well as to Germany – where he learned French and German and translated Dakkhani Urdu poetry into European languages – Zore also travelled extensively within India, and to Kashmir and wrote the first book about Dakhaniyat. A polyglot, linguist, and philologist par excellence, Zore had studied Sanskrit and Gujarati as well.
During the mid-1930s, he embarked upon a project to prepare an encyclopedia in Urdu, inviting Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, Sarojini Naidu, and Jawaharlal Nehru to write for it – many of whom had met with Zore. Though the encyclopedia project itself was not realised, the attempt signalled the yearning to produce knowledge about the world for citizens of Hyderabad, to bring in a perspective from the Deccan and its relationship to the wider world. And yet, his legacy is in danger of being forgotten, as Zore’s understanding of the Deccan has never been included in the story of India. The Idara-e-Urdu-e Adabiyat and the Aiwan-e Urdu are institutions that themselves could form the subject of an entire PhD dissertation as well as serious scholarship about Hyderabad’s institutions.
Erasures: The city and the politics of historical memory
Hyderabad’s past is rendered almost invisible: over the past 75 years, there has been tremendous upheaval: from a former Muslim princely kingdom – capital of the Asaf Jahi dynasty – to its violent annexation by the Indian state and army in 1948; and then its incorporation into the state of Andhra Pradesh in 1956; its land reallocations by the linguistic state in the 1970s and 1980s; the neoliberal economic reforms of the 1990s; and then being cast as the capital of the new Telangana state in 2014, the same year India was met with the political triumph of Hindu nationalism. And, it is not only upheavals.
Hyderabad’s history is also marginalised by most historians of India, who have simply not paid close enough attention to this city and its past. Then, there is the fact that popular historians write of Hyderabad’s history in romanticised ways, subjecting its past to their own perspectives, whether nationalist or colonialist, while Hyderabad’s elites produce accounts imbued with relentless nostalgia. Since 1948, there has been a steady demolition of Hyderabad’s historical pasts, inaugurated by the Indian state as well as by a combination of other factors – including the increasing out-migration of the city’s elites who were once patrons of major institutions. They have been replaced by a new elite who care more for malls, sports cars, and bars – and see no value in patronage or cultivation of the arts, cultural activities, or historical knowledge.
Today, the erasure of Hyderabad’s pluralist past is occurring at a resounding pace. The assault upon this city’s history and the shared heritages of its people is tremendous. Buildings torn down, monuments subject to land-grabs by the state or by private entities, and the city’s heritage continues to be destroyed by new capitalist ventures, as the old sixteenth century urban core and the modernising reforms of the Nizams in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, is decimated by hyper-development, political expediency, and the corrupt scions of progress.
Yet, at the same time, there do exist responses to these assaults by Hyderabad’s numerous heritage activist groups and citizen historians, who daily record, bear witness to, and struggle against the demolition of monuments. While they are few and far between, they frequently lack political backing. There are organisations and individuals on the ground in Hyderabad who are constantly challenging the assaults on Hyderabad’s heritage. Local heritage activists and citizen historians, to several social media groups which have cropped up in recent years, are imbued with a very strong historical consciousness – doing everything from pleading with authorities to preserve heritage, leading heritage walks, to writing extensively about it in newspapers, such as The Siasat Daily – which regularly contains articles about Hyderabad’s heritage. One has only to bend one’s ear and take the time to listen.
Existing alongside these erasures of Hyderabad, is the continued persistence of historical memory among the people of the region. They consistently recall the shared past of the city across different communities and frequently invoke history. Even such mundane activities as providing directions in Hyderabad, constitutes broken maps of history. Directions include not only present landmarks, but also the names of people, properties, and heritages that existed in those same places of an earlier time, for Hyderabad once had the characteristics more akin to small town life – rather than the megapolis it is today. The lanes of Hyderabad are full of oracles who narrate the past. One octogenarian asks, “in the Nizam’s rule, Hindus worked as prime ministers, can Muslims now even be peons of government offices?” voicing some facets of changes the city and the nation have seen. Once the Muslim elites’ lands were confiscated and thoroughly eviscerated by the state, through their displacement as well as their own migrations to the Global North, the past few decades have witnessed the arrival of a set of new elites to the city. They are all too happy to culturally appropriate the memory of the Nizam, while at the same time encroaching on lands in celebration of an “India Shining” with its new temples rooted in the free-market economy – just one endless shopping centre–part of a larger drive that is flattening and homogenising India.
Meanwhile, the politics of the memory of Hyderabad are complicated and are constantly reframed, sometimes they take the shape of the claiming of a shared “Ganga Jamuni Tehzeeb” (Hindu-Muslim culture or harmony), at other times, equating the entire Nizam period with communal rule. What is lost here in the polemics is the complexity of the Deccan, and the region’s capacity to uphold diversity and resist totalitarianism. Qadri’s and Zore’s Idara, and vanishing documents enable us to tell these stories of defiance in the face of erasure.
Women in history, women doing history
The role that women have played in the production of historical knowledge tends to be cast aside in the writing of institutional histories of India – where they are frequently rendered into a separate category of appraisal. In the anthology of poetry produced by Tahniyatun-Nissa begum (1911-1994), who donated her lands so that the Idara could be established, the poetess writes, “bahut baatein hain yun tou tahniyat dunya mein karne ki / hum apne shauq ki apni lagan kii baat karte hain,” “There are many things celebrated for discussion in this world/I follow my own desires, and speak of things which are close to me.” The couplet is an apt reminder of following one’s own individual path amidst that world’s demands for conformity. A devout woman, who was linked on her maternal side to the respected ‘ulema [religious scholars] of Firangi Mahal in Lucknow, Tahniyatun-Nissa begum was educated at Mahboobia Girls High School and went on to pass Senior Cambridge exams in the late 1920s. At the time, for Muslim women to be formally educated at this level, was itself a significant achievement.
Tahniyatun-Nissa begum wrote a great deal of poetry, her specialisation was in ‘Naat’, a genre of Urdu poetry in praise of the Prophet Muhammad. She is reputed to be among the first female poets to have a collection of published works in the Naat genre. There are at least three collections of her poetry, including Zikr-o-Fikr (1955), Sabr-o Shukr (1956), and Tasleem-o Raza (1959). Aside from her poetry, Tahniyatun-Nissa begum was devoted to sustaining the inner everyday workings of the library and museum. Qadri speaks of his mother fondly, recalling how the Idara was managed not by Zore alone, but with the magnanimity of Tahniyatun-Nissa begum. Her existence graces these halls, as he points to where she would organise gatherings for women who were scholars and writers in their own right, and even acknowledging the steps from which she once had a fall.
The Idara initially was a male space, but it was not long before the library began to open its doors to women. Qadri discusses how it was important to his parents that a place and space be made for women scholars. “Today, it seems that it is mainly women scholars who come to seek knowledge here,” he says, reflecting on the irony.
Hyderabad’s history is also marginalised by most historians of India, who have simply not paid close enough attention to this city and its past.
As Qadri unlocks the museum, hidden at the top of the tower of the Idara, it is the portraits of women that are most immediately noticeable, gracing the walls above the filigreed and cobweb-covered windows. They include notable women of Hyderabad State, such as Mah Laqa Bai Chanda, the 18th-century poetess of Urdu, and frequently known as the earliest major female poet of Urdu – though there were others before her. There are at least two portraits of her on the walls – she was a high-ranking court noble of the Asaf Jah state, talented in music, the arts, dance, as well as poetry and hunting. Her devotion to Maula Ali is evident by her mausoleum near the Maula Ali Dargah in the city.
There are paintings and sketches of Premamathi and Taramati – a kuchipudi dancer and the courtesans of the Quli Qutb Shah dynasty from the sixteenth century.
There exists today a serai (caravan station), named after one of them, the Taramati Baradari, built under the reign of Ibrahim Quli Qutub Shah. According to local legends, the sultan was awed by her voice when she sang for the weary travellers and the sounds of her song were carried by the breeze all the way to Golconda Fort.
At a short distance away, there is a mosque of Premamati – and both dancers are buried in the Qutb Shah mausoleum, north of the serai. There is also a portrait of Bhagmati, a legendary courtesan (and later queen of Muhammed Quli Qutb Shah, the founder of Hyderabad city in 1591). Bhagmati’s very existence, or lack thereof, is today the source of considerable controversy.
There is too, a rare portrait of the sixteenth-century warrior queen Chand Bibi, a regent of two Deccan Sultanates.
About Chand Bibi, Zore was critical of how she was dismissed by scholars of his time, writing in 1938 that the “king’s birth, pedigree and influence of Chand Sultana of Ahmadnagar who was his aunt should have been dealt with in a detailed manner…it was she who made him a man of letters, a broad-minded gentleman, generous king, and valiant warrior.” That there was an entire section dedicated to the women of the Deccan, during the early twentieth century – when there is yet to be any serious scholarly books today in English focused upon women and female power within the Deccan – itself indicates attempts for inclusivity within the imagination of the Idara.
Yet, beyond these more well-known names, the Idara itself opened its doors to female scholars and poets of the twentieth century. Qadri tells us the story of how women scholars were patronised by the Idara, and that the institution accommodated them as “gosha-purdah” women would come here to study and research. At the time, this was a novelty, signalling new forms of educational possibilities for women. Today, almost one hundred years later since the conception of the Idara, the historical profession in India continues to be dominated by men, who in turn, continue to produce visions of the past in which women do not exist, with the frequent claim that obtaining records of their existence is next to impossible. It is perhaps not a coincidence that today, we are two women inviting some reflection and further research about the Idara, with a reminder that the legacies and the lineages of the past continue into the present.
***
It is 8pm in the evening and we have finally found a quiet spot in the city. We have taken the steps up to Maula Ali pahaar, at the top of which is an old Shia shrine. We take our place upon an expansive rock formation, offering its vast open natural space to us, with some quiet space all around, and stare out to the city of lights below. As we dream and talk about the need to create and preserve spaces of plurality, free inquiry, openness, and camaraderie, the historical city of Hyderabad vanishes beneath us.
*** SARAH WAHEEN AND YAMINI KRISHNA
Sarah Waheed is Assistant Professor of History at University of South Carolina. She is the author of Hidden Histories of Pakistan: Censorship, Literature, and Secular Nationalism in Late Colonial India. She is a Fulbright Scholar writing her second book, about Chand Bibi and women of the Deccan: The Warrior Queen Who Died Thrice: Gender, Sovereignty and Islam in Premodern India. She can be reached at sarah.f.waheed@gmail.com.
C Yamini Krishna works on film history and urban history. Her work has been published in South Asia, Historical Journal of Film Radio Television, Widescreen, South Asian Popular Culture, The news minute, Caravan and Scroll. She currently teaches at FLAME University. She can be reached at yaminkrishn@gmail.com.
source: http://www.himalmag.com / Himal South Asian / Home>Commentary> Culture> India / by Sarah Waheed and Yamini Krishna / July 19th, 2022
Eight books published by the K A Nizami Centre for Quranic Studies, Aligarh Muslim University (AMU) addressing key themes on the history of South Asian Muslims, diverse responses to the scholarly contributions and rationalist traditions of Islamic scholarship were released today at the Vice Chancellor’s Office.
They are ‘Contemporary Islamic Scholarship in South Asia: An Assessment’, ‘Humanness of Prophets: The Quranic Prophetology’ and ‘Contribution of Dar-ul-Uloom Deoband to Tafasir’ by Dr Abdul Kader Choughley; ‘Dil Jo tha Zulmat Kadah, Ma’ah-e-Munawwar Hogaya’ by Dr Mohammad Haris Mansoor; ‘Qurani Ulum ka Irtiqa Ahd-i-Islami ke Hindustan Mein’ by Prof Zafarul Islam; ‘How to Promote the Study of Quran among Women’, edited by Dr Nazeer Ahmad Ab. Majeed and Dr Arshad Iqbal; ‘Tarjumani Rahmani’ by Prof A R Kidwai and ‘Allah ki Kitab ki Paanch Mangay’ by Prof Fazlur Rahman Gunnouri.
“These books will answer some of the most frequently asked questions about traditions in Islamic faith, offer a new understanding on the works of Islamic scholars, explore key Islamic events and provide an understanding of important traditions in Islamic philosophy and the intellectual movement that emerged from South Asian Islam”, said AMU Vice Chancellor, Prof Tariq Mansoor while releasing the books.
Prof A R Kidwai (Honorary Director, K A Nizami Centre for Quranic Studies) pointed out: “The K A Nizami Centre has published over 80 titles on Quran-related scholarship since 2013. Publications of the Centre represent contemporary literature on furthering Quranic understanding and research in Hindi, English and Urdu by authors from various disciplines including translations from various languages”.
source: http://www.amu.ac.in / Aligarh Muslim University / Home / by Public Relations Department / Aligarh, July 13th, 2022
On World Book Day, the Maryam Mirza Mohilla (neighbourhood) library movement commemorated the occasion with zeal. Several book reading and distribution activities were held in city mosques and Urdu schools under the auspices of the Read & Lead Foundation.
The Foundation’s President, Mirza Abdul Qayyum Nadvi, announced the commencement of a “Book at Home, Book at Every Home” campaign at the event. He stated that the book-reading awareness campaign is only getting started because today’s young generation is losing interest in reading due to the introduction of new electronic gadgets, particularly smart phones
Urdu, Marathi, English books were distributed to the children members of Maulana Syed Abul Hassan Ali Nadvi Mohalla Library situated in Masjid Faiz Beri Bagh, Harsol area of Aurangabad.
It should be noted that for the past year in Aurangabad, 28 libraries have been working under the aegis of the Read & Lead Foundation in various sections of the city, slum mosques, Urdu schools, and neighbourhoods. More than 5,000 children are connected to these libraries.
It’s worth noting that eleven (11) of the 28 libraries are dedicated to children are located in mosques. Masjid Shadab Hina Nagar, Ahmadi Masjid, Shatabdi Nagar, Maulana Hasrat Mohani Mohalla Library, Misrarwadi, Qazi Iqbaluddin Mohalla Library, Bismillah Masjid, Madrasa Falah Darin Ghulam Mustafa, Sher Khan Pathan Mitra Mandal Library, Narey Village Mohalla Library and other places. In addition to this, Al-Huda Urdu High School Baijipura, Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam Mohalla Library Baijipura and other libraries celebrated World Book Day.
Maulana Sheikh Yusuf Nadvi, Imam of Masjid Faiz, where the Maulana Syed Abul Hassan Ali Nadvi Mohalla Library is located, stated that he would do everything in his power to ensure that the library benefits the children and women of the area as much as possible. After Friday prayers, he also declared the start of the door-to-door book drive.
Sheikh Nargis Fatima, Headmistress of Al-Huda Urdu High School, stated that her school’s students and instructors would be more active in the campaign and would offer all available assistance. Farhat Jahan, a school teacher, and other teachers took part in the presentation and offered their opinions..
Children’s monthly periodicals such as “Bachu ki Dunia,” “Umang,” “Taleemi inquilab,” “Majhi Marathi,” “Meri English Kitab,”,” “Gulzar Urdu,” and other books, magazines, and journals were distributed to members of the aforementioned libraries.
source: http://www.muslimmirror.com / Muslim Mirror / Home> Positive Story / by Special Correspondent / April 26th, 2022
Cover page of the book ‘A Legacy of Bahmani Sultans through Coins’ published by the Gulbarga Bahmani Numismatics Research and Educational Trust. | Photo Credit: ARUN KULKARNI
Mohammad Ismail has got a rare treasure of coins dating back to Bahmani Sultans from 14th to 16th Century
The Gulbarga Bahmani Numismatics Research and Educational Trust recently published a book titled ‘A Legacy of Bahmani Sultans through coins’ authored by Numismatist Mohammad Ismail in which he depicts the numismatic journey of Bahmani Sultans through his collections.
The book traces the journey of coins belonging to all the 18 Bahmani Sultans starting from Alauddin Hasan Bahman Shah (1347-58), till the last Sultan – Kalimullah Shah (1526-1538). Mr. Ismail has meticulously worked, richly illustrated, about each coin issued during Bahmani Sultans period.
Mr. Ismail has got a rare treasure of antique coinage, belonging to Bahmani Sultans from 14th Century to 16th Century. The numismatist has more than 2,500 coins in his collection of various rulers, dynasties and kingdoms. Among his treasury are also coins dating back to 1,600 years ago.
The numismatist also organises a campaign “Save Coin Save Heritage.” The objective of this campaign is to spread awareness about ancient coins at schools and to take forward the legacy to younger generations.
Speaking to The Hindu, the numismatist explained the legacy of Bahmani Sultans and displayed a collection of nearly 80 copper coins issued in one year period between 1378-1379, and said that all the four Sultans including Dawood Shah-I, Muhammad Shah-II, Ghiyasuddin Tahmathan Shah, Shamshuddin Dawood Shah–II (4th, 5th, 6th and 7th sultans, respectively), have ruled for less than a year. His collection has got nearly 500 coins issued during Tajuddin Firoz Shah (8th Bahmani sultan), followed by 400 coins of Muhammad Shah-I (the second Bahmani sultan), and 300 coins of Kalimullah Shah (18th Bahmani sultan) Period.
According to Mr. Ismail, the study of coins gives insights into history as no other source does. The enthusiast numismatist tries to enhance his collection by getting in touch with collectors across India. His collection includes coins of various shapes, sizes and weights issued during different reigns made up of gold, silver, bronze and copper, some very rare.
When asked about the estimated value of coins in his collection, Mr. Ismail said that the value of each coin varied depending on its age, rarity and material. “But for me, as a numismatist, it is the coin’s age and rarity which matters more than its price,” he said.
Some of the rarest coins in his collections are of Tahmatun Shah, Dawood Shah, Ahmed Shah III, Muhammad Shah IV and Mujahidin Shah. Mr. Ismail’s rare collection includes 10 copper and one gold and silver coin minted during the Tahmatan Shah period. It took him eight years to find those coins. His collection also includes the rare gold and silver coins of Ahmed Shah II and Mujahidin Shah.
He also has coin collections belonging to Chalukyas, Kakatyas, Rashtrakutas, and the Vijayanagara Kingdom. Mr. Ismail wants to bring out a catalogue of these collections too.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> National> Karnataka / by Praveen B Para / Kalaburagi – July 03rd, 2022
The Delhi Youth Welfare Association works for the upliftment of underprivileged children in Old Delhi through many initiatives, including its Hazrat Shah Walliulah Public Library.
DYWA team with Capt Zoya and Heena Sodhi
On a hot Wednesday afternoon in June, Laxmi (14) and Ritika (11), residents of the walled city, braved the heat as they made their way through the crowded lanes of Old Delhi to arrive at a cramped quarter in Churiwalan, Jama Masjid. The dated signage and dilapidated environs may have served to put them off their mission, but they persevered. After all, they had it on the best possible authority––of their own older sister––that this was where they would receive school textbooks for the upcoming academic year.
These hardworking sisters are a few of the many girls and boys lining up outside the doors of the unassuming Hazrat Shah Waliullah Public Library, which distributes course books for children once a year, free of cost, to support them in their pursuit of education despite financial and other constraints.
In 1987, in the wake of curfew following religious tensions in Old Delhi, a group of young friends turned their energies towards the upliftment of destitute locals.
The library
They began by distributing rations, medicines, and scholarships to deserving widows and others in need, under the banner of the Delhi Youth Welfare Association (DYWA); but felt this action, though noble, did not make the desired difference to ground realities. Illiteracy due to poor financial conditions and the resultant lack of resources was a chronic problem that needed their immediate attention. Hence, they started sponsoring the education of deserving children, and opened the Hazrat Shah Waliullah Public Library, sometime in the 90s.
Muhammad Naeem, the President of the DYWA, has been associated with the organisation from the beginning. Narrating an incident that summarises the need for their organisation, he says, “Financial conditions are bad for the locals here. As soon as they clear their ninth standard exams, they want to move to Open University instead of going to school, so they can work and earn money. This is true for both boys and girls.”
Amidst this, the Hazrat Shah Waliullah Library strives to encourage a love of reading and learning–– an art that is swiftly being sidelined. SM Changezi, the General Secretary of DYWA and custodian of the library, wears his royal ascendancy from Chengez Khan with pride. However, he only displays it to the world through his passion for beautiful and rare old books.
The library’s vast collection includes a 100-year-old Quran with every page written in a different style, a copy of an illustrated Ramayana in Persian, and even one of the last copies of Bahadur Shah Zafar’s poetry, printed and sealed in the royal press while he was still in power.
About 50 percent of the books in the library are donated by locals who support the organisation, and the remaining are bought from the organisation’s funds.
With the increasing number of books, the association is now planning to open a second library in Haryana’s Nuh to cater to the local slums in the area. Apart from free course books, the DYWA sponsors the education of around 30 girls. To this effect, the DYWA collects and pays Rs 2.5-3 lakh per annum towards children’s fees, all from donations made by people who believe in the cause.
Other initiatives include inviting celebrated personalities originally from this area to speak to the children about making a success of their life. This happened recently when Air India pilot and social activist Captain Zoya Agarwal and Heena Sodhi Khera of women’s networking platform Queen’s Brigade, met the children for their course distribution ceremony.
Khera explains, “Capt Zoya shared her own experiences of being judged for her big ambitions. Yet, she achieved what she wanted and encouraged the kids to do so as well. The children were ecstatic and listened to her with rapt attention.”
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Good News / by Noor Anand Chawla / June 24th, 2022
One such is a miniature version that can be worn as an amulet
Ramzan marks the revelation of Koran and families go into a huddle reading it through the night. The Abul Kalam Azad Oriental Research Institute in Public Gardens is now hosting an exhibition of copies of some rare Korans.
One of them has been created in Hyderabad with Persian and Urdu translation and explanatory passages on the side. Another Koran is a miniature version which could be worn as an amulet. “This is among the 5,000 Koran amulets commissioned by Hasan Nizami, a legatee of Nizamuddin Aulia of Delhi. It is a priceless object as very few are in circulation,” informs S.M. Ahmed Ali of the institute.
Then there is a Koran which is a gift of Reza Shah Pehlavi, first Shah of the House of Pahlavi of the Imperial State of Iran, when his wife visited the city in 1960. It has the Persian translation along with the Arabic original.
A few facsimile copies show how different writing styles have evolved. A 7 th century Koran in Kufic script is without the diacritical marks. “This is one of the earliest copies and unique. It will be difficult to read as we are used to seeing the sound markers,” adds Mr. Ahmed.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> National> Telangana / by The Hindu Bureau / Hyderabad – April 14th, 2022
Sophore (Suvyyapur) Town (Baramulla District), JAMMU & KASHMIR :
Atiqa Bano
Atiqa Bano’s vision that the generations to come must know how people lived in Kashmir over centuries had made this retired Kashmiri educationist collect ancient households articles like hey mats (Waguv), multipurpose earthen pots, wooden doors, latches, and possibly all things used by humans over two centuries and create the first-ever private museum in the Valley.
Called “Meras Mahal” (The palace of heritage), it houses more than 5,000 artifacts reflecting the social and cultural life of Kashmir over two centuries.
Atiqa Bano standing in front of Meeras Mahal
Atiqa Bano passed away in 2017 and her family continued to struggle to maintain it and not let forces of Nature damage this treasure trove. However, they always lacked resources for this gigantic task.
Finally, Atiqa Bano’s love of her labour is all set for a major revamp and scientific conservation as this historic treasure had attracted the attention of the Indian National Trust for Art and Heritage (INTACH), J&K Chapter.
Atiqa Bano, an educationist, had made great efforts to collect the exhibits over two decades after she retired from the J&K Government services in 1998. A woman of strong resolve, Atiqaji, as she was popularly called, had taken to looking after her father after her mother’s death. She had chosen to remain single and devote her life to education, women’s welfare, and society.
Household items on display in Meeras Mahal
It was during her campaigns for women’s empowerment that she was drawn to the collection of rare kitchenware, old ornaments, agricultural tools, clothing, earthenware, and manuscripts lying around in many Kashmiri households. It dawned upon her that with the changing times, all these human inventions would be lost to time if not preserved for posterity.
She started collecting artifacts in 2002 and continued her mission till her death.
Atiqa Bano is gone from this world, but her memory and work is commemorated for posterity, and, as she wished, for the generations to come.
A collection of watches and eye glasses on display at Meeras Mahal
Realizing the importance of Atiqaji’s rich heritage collection, the J&K Chapter of INTACH and HELP Foundation have taken up the gigantic task of rejuvenating Meeras Mahal.
Saleem Beg, head of the INTACH, J&K Chapter, said, “Saima Iqbal and INTACH team are digitizing, curating and contextualizing the rich collection of vernacular objects after preventive conservation. The museum will have a thematic display demonstrated through sketches and write-ups supported by an elaborate digital presence.”
Saima Iqbal said, the work, supported by ALIPH- an international alliance for the protection of heritage in conflict areas, is getting streamlined. She stated that a team comprising a web designer, photographer, conservator, curator, and illustrator is working in tandem as all are interdependent and need to work in sync.
Earthenware used in Kashmiri households in Meeras Mahal
“I have to say that the challenges are many and we are making the best use of available meager resources here but the passion is alive and the project will be a great success”, she said.
“The first article preserved in the museum is Kondul, an earthen bowl that holds smoldering embers in Kangri, a personal and portable heating device of Kashmiri, said Muzamil Bashir Masoodi, Caretaker or (Honorary) President of the five-member Trust of prominent literary personalities, constituted to look after the museum.
Muzamil, who is also Atiqa Ji’s nephew had been taking a keen interest in maintaining and preserving the rare articles of the museum. The initially preserved items also included hand-written books of Ghulam Mohammad Hanfie, a scholar, Ateeqa Ji’s grandfather.
“All the items are counted one by one like 10 different Charkhas (spinning wheels) are counted as 10 separate items”, explained Muzamil.
The museum was initially set up in their private B. Ed College, Kashmir Women’s College of Education, at Noorbagh, Sopore. It was shifted in 2012 and called Meeras Mahal to a Hostel building of the College, at Highland Colony, where the rare items are “stored” due to the paucity of space.
Doors and windows used in Kashmiri architecture
Muzammil said that “we cannot provide the normal gap of at least two feet between the items”, which makes it difficult to maintain the entire treasure. “There has been no support from the Government”, he said. He said so far he has been getting a token amount from the college funds for maintaining the museum.
“During the Covid restrictions, when everything was closed, we managed to be in the museum to provide basic maintenance,” Muzamil said. He had submitted a detailed project report, for conservation and preservation of the museum to the UT Government in 2019.”
Nothing has came his way so far.
source: http://www.awazthevoice.in / Awaz, The Voice / Home> Culture / by Ehsan Fazli, Srinagar / April 11th, 2022
Tall marble pillars frame photos, automobiles and more, as the Bhopal royals open up their past at the Jehan Numa Palace Hotel
Over the years, the Jehan Numa Palace in Bhopal — built on the slopes of the Shyamla Hills in 1890 by General Obaidullah Khan, commander-in-chief of the Bhopal State Force, and the second son of Nawab Sultan Jehan Begum — has worn many garbs.
The white marble edifice, which melds British Colonial, Italian Renaissance and Classical Greek architectural styles with facets of Art Deco, was constructed as the general’s office, and then used as his sons’ secretariat. After Independence, it became a government hostel, and later, the offices of the Geological Survey of India.
In 1983, after restoring the five-acre property, the general’s grandsons reopened it as a heritage hotel — its colonnaded corridors showcasing sepia-toned portraits, and the interiors housing rooms, four restaurants, two bars and a spa. Now, the pandemic has given it another facet: a museum, which came together almost like a “jigsaw puzzle”, says Faiz Rashid, director of the Jehan Numa Group of Hotels and a member of the Bhopal royal family.
Faiz Rashid
A colonnaded showcase
“[Over the last 20-odd months] we tried to come up with innovative ways to nurture hospitality. Because of the time on hand, we started looking at family archives and thought why not share the legacy with the world,” says Rashid. He tells me about putting together memorabilia: artefacts, attire, “lovely letters in Urdu” written to his great grandfather, documents, “invoices of the cars the royal family bought [like a Ford Phantom and a customised Bentley]” — all of which are now on show at the hotel.
“General Obaidullah Khan accompanied his mother, the last begum, on her foreign trips. He was inspired by different architectural styles, and the display is a pictorial history of the hotel’s evolution from the time it was built in the 19th century,” he says.
The corridors along the central courtyard, with its famed 100-year-old mango tree, were chosen as the ideal backdrop for the display. I take a virtual tour of the elegantly-framed archives, arranged in clusters on the walls of the chequered black-and-white marble and granite corridors, zooming into the photographs, and taking in glimpses of the life and times of a pre-Independence royalty that was progressive and involved, wealthy but not flamboyant, stylish but never garish.
From letters to thoroughbreds
The family took the help of Joe Alvarez, the well-known jazz singer who has written a coffee-table book on Bhopal, to curate the memorabilia.
“We divided them into nine subjects, starting with the four begums, the last nawab, dignitary visits, nawabi sports and the outdoors, and such,” says Alvarez, who has also generated a voice-over, and added a QR code to enable a Walk-In Museum audio guide.
The track at the Jehan Numa Palace Hotel
He expounds about the images of a thriving stud farm, something that continues till date (a trotting track set up when the hotel opened gives visitors a peek into the royal family’s passion for breeding thoroughbreds), of custom-built automobiles, branded guns and weapons, and official visits by dignitaries.
The begum’s photo from the archives
“The nawab begums of Bhopal were very dynamic and built the city differently from male rulers. They focussed on all areas, from education to women’s empowerment. We realised so much of their contribution — like building hospitals, enhancing the railways, opening schools — while putting this together,” shares Rashid, adding that, in 1889, Shah Jehan Begum funded the construction of Britain’s first purpose-built mosque at Woking. The collection is still evolving as more memorabilia makes its way to them slowly, from the extended family. A plan to restore and display the wedding dresses of the begums is also in the pipeline.
The museum is open to all. Rooms at the hotel are from ₹8,000 onwards. Details: jehannuma.com
Bori Safari Lodge
Spot the tiger at Bori Safari Lodge
Another post-pandemic hospitality initiative is Bori Safari Lodge, an eight-room wildlife camp started by Rashid’s brother, Aly, in the Satpura Forest. “When we started the Reni Pani Jungle Lodge [a two-and-a-half hour drive away] in 2009, it was about experiencing the diversity of the forest, with river safaris, walking trails and birding. With the Bori, the tiger comes centre stage,” says the trained naturalist, who has partnered with the state tourism department.
Aly is a trained naturalist
A tiger relocation programme successfully initiated four years ago has revitalised the habitat and the local population. “The tigers have not only flourished, but have actively begun mating.” Aly — who has great memories of spending his childhood in the forests — also leads expeditions to spot snow leopards in Ladakh and seek out the red panda in the Northeast. “This [project] is a means to conserve the landscape. The alternate income for the locals will recharge the community, support conservation, and will help wildlife be seen as an asset.”
From ₹25,000 onwards (all inclusive)
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Entertainment> Art> Weekend Travel Special 2022 / by Priyadershini S / April 15th, 2022
