The Whispering Walls
The Hamam has been mournful over its neglect for years
The Hamam has been mournful over its neglect for years.
LAHORE:
Washington Irving describes his observation in Tales of Alhambra:
“The more proudly a mansion has been tenanted in the day of its prosperity, the humbler are its inhabitants in the day of its decline and the palace of a king becomes a nesting place of a beggar.”
The Shahi Hamam has seen that transition. Where once fountains romanced with sparkling waters, time has put a cover of dust and moss. Built in 1634, it was a sojourn for the royalty to rest and revive after a long journey from Delhi, the then capital of the Mughal Empire, as they entered Lahore through the Delhi Gate. Imagine a place where story tellers, musician and poets gathered in the evenings. Imagine the aroma of chai and qehwa mingling with the smoldering scent coming from the burning oil of the lanterns lighting the Shahi Guzargaah (the Royal Trail). All these sounds and sights were separated by the walls of the hamaam for a princely solitude of delicate water sprays and soothing gushes of steam. Imagine perceiving the ecstasy of the haze-filled bath and then emerging to see the fervor, the hustle bustle of a city teaming with life. It is a scene right out of the fables.
Shahi Hamam and Masjid Wazir Khan were built by Hakim Shaikh Ilmud Din Ansari, the then governor of Lahore. He was bestowed with the title of Wazir Khan by Emperor Jahangir whose beloved wife, Nur Jahan, he treated from a serious ailment. Nur Jahan was born in a Persian family as Mehrunnisa, the once wife of a worthy warrior of Jahangir’s army, Sher Afgan. It has been suggested that Sher Afgan’s death may have been planned by Jahangir. At the age of 30, Nur Jahan became the queen and was given the title of Noor Mehal, Light of the Palace. She also became the trusted and revered wife of Jahangir who was well-suited to be an empress, Noor-i-Jahan, Light of the World.
Wazir Khan remained a favourite of the royals and also served as a minister in the Mughal darbar. It was during Emperor Shah Jahan’s rule that he built the Shahi Hamam and the Wazir Khan Mosque.
The 21 room, 1,000 square metres building was neglected until recently. The Aga Khan Trust for Culture started the restoration process with funding from the Norwegian Embassy in Pakistan. The job was completed in 2015 and the place was opened for public in June 2015. The hamam is built on a hypocaust system, in which the floor is heated by drafts of steam running through a hollow sub floor. The walls and the ceiling are adorned by colorful fresco. In the main room, shaped as an octagon, one can hear a whisper on the opposite side of the wall. It is an enormous sized room with somewhat dainty feel to it. At the moment the lofty vaulted ceiling meets an opening looking at the skies. This was a source of natural light as well as the exhaust. .
The Hamam has been mournful over its neglect for years. Through the centuries it has been converted to a school, a dispensary and living quarters for the British. Until recently, it was not open to the public but the elite and government officials could use it for parties, including wedding banquets.
“Wazir Khan built the Shahi Hamam and the Masjid we are going to see next. He was a physician and the governor of Lahore.”
We heard our tour guide tell us.
“Mom, how can a physician be an architect too?”
My nine year old, was not appreciative of my easy credulity.
“Well. He probably hired a few minds to plan this dream bath house to please his King. He could do so, right? After all he was the governor too.”
I thought I rested my case.
“That is not what our governor would have done.”
I took a deep breath in, held her little hand and let the imagination linger as we advanced through an iron gate that led us to the Shahi Hamam. The detailed fresco work was being restored and the baths were being excavated when we visited. The workers were not interested in a few onlookers and remained focused on their task. I could see the scaffoldings and the makeshift stairs and walkways that did little to hide the aura of magnificence underneath. The hum of conversations of the workers and low-pitched, grinding noise of their machines, in no time transformed into the clanking of chained slaves cleaning the floors and the tinkling of the brass utensils spraying rose water as the royal guests passed through. I wondered how many had suffered for the luxurious buildings. How much sweat and blood did it take to encrypt arrogance on the ruddy faces of royalty?
“Mom let’s try if these walls work”
I heard my daughter and realised that I had missed on the information our guide was giving about the whispering walls of the main room.
“Can you hear me?”
“Yes Zuzu, I can. Can you?”
I whispered back.
“Yes mom. Loud and clear! Let’s ask the wall to talk to us.”
I could not tell a little girl that if these walls could whisper, what stories would they be telling. Would it be stories of blinding shimmer and glimmer of jewels, or of the desires enslaved in the corsets of those who wore them? The tales of war-time violence or the romantic associations in the days of peace?
I felt suffocated and left the group to find the stairs to the rooftop. It was a temporary staircase that spiralled rather awkwardly to the top. As I reached the last step, I found myself standing on a newly-put tiled surface interrupted by coal-tar covered domes. Some of the domes had a few remains of stained glass windows that barely preserved the archaic features of the re-laid roof. As I sat on one of the domes watching the declining daylight cast shadows upon the Walled City, I wondered how many generations had passed, how many centuries had gone by? Has the mankind evolved beyond the desire for acquiring wealth, equating luxury with grace, justifying tragedy for triumph that has been its bane?
History always tells us: “He came, he saw, he conquered.”
Little do we remember that he killed, he enslaved, he acquired, he lived in luxury and he died in vain.
F Shereen, MD, is a Missouri-based physician, currently living and practicing rheumatology in the USA. She tweets as @FShirinMD
Published in The Express Tribune, March 13th, 2016.
Washington Irving describes his observation in Tales of Alhambra:
“The more proudly a mansion has been tenanted in the day of its prosperity, the humbler are its inhabitants in the day of its decline and the palace of a king becomes a nesting place of a beggar.”
The Shahi Hamam has seen that transition. Where once fountains romanced with sparkling waters, time has put a cover of dust and moss. Built in 1634, it was a sojourn for the royalty to rest and revive after a long journey from Delhi, the then capital of the Mughal Empire, as they entered Lahore through the Delhi Gate. Imagine a place where story tellers, musician and poets gathered in the evenings. Imagine the aroma of chai and qehwa mingling with the smoldering scent coming from the burning oil of the lanterns lighting the Shahi Guzargaah (the Royal Trail). All these sounds and sights were separated by the walls of the hamaam for a princely solitude of delicate water sprays and soothing gushes of steam. Imagine perceiving the ecstasy of the haze-filled bath and then emerging to see the fervor, the hustle bustle of a city teaming with life. It is a scene right out of the fables.
Shahi Hamam and Masjid Wazir Khan were built by Hakim Shaikh Ilmud Din Ansari, the then governor of Lahore. He was bestowed with the title of Wazir Khan by Emperor Jahangir whose beloved wife, Nur Jahan, he treated from a serious ailment. Nur Jahan was born in a Persian family as Mehrunnisa, the once wife of a worthy warrior of Jahangir’s army, Sher Afgan. It has been suggested that Sher Afgan’s death may have been planned by Jahangir. At the age of 30, Nur Jahan became the queen and was given the title of Noor Mehal, Light of the Palace. She also became the trusted and revered wife of Jahangir who was well-suited to be an empress, Noor-i-Jahan, Light of the World.
Wazir Khan remained a favourite of the royals and also served as a minister in the Mughal darbar. It was during Emperor Shah Jahan’s rule that he built the Shahi Hamam and the Wazir Khan Mosque.
The 21 room, 1,000 square metres building was neglected until recently. The Aga Khan Trust for Culture started the restoration process with funding from the Norwegian Embassy in Pakistan. The job was completed in 2015 and the place was opened for public in June 2015. The hamam is built on a hypocaust system, in which the floor is heated by drafts of steam running through a hollow sub floor. The walls and the ceiling are adorned by colorful fresco. In the main room, shaped as an octagon, one can hear a whisper on the opposite side of the wall. It is an enormous sized room with somewhat dainty feel to it. At the moment the lofty vaulted ceiling meets an opening looking at the skies. This was a source of natural light as well as the exhaust. .
The Hamam has been mournful over its neglect for years. Through the centuries it has been converted to a school, a dispensary and living quarters for the British. Until recently, it was not open to the public but the elite and government officials could use it for parties, including wedding banquets.
“Wazir Khan built the Shahi Hamam and the Masjid we are going to see next. He was a physician and the governor of Lahore.”
We heard our tour guide tell us.
“Mom, how can a physician be an architect too?”
My nine year old, was not appreciative of my easy credulity.
“Well. He probably hired a few minds to plan this dream bath house to please his King. He could do so, right? After all he was the governor too.”
I thought I rested my case.
“That is not what our governor would have done.”
I took a deep breath in, held her little hand and let the imagination linger as we advanced through an iron gate that led us to the Shahi Hamam. The detailed fresco work was being restored and the baths were being excavated when we visited. The workers were not interested in a few onlookers and remained focused on their task. I could see the scaffoldings and the makeshift stairs and walkways that did little to hide the aura of magnificence underneath. The hum of conversations of the workers and low-pitched, grinding noise of their machines, in no time transformed into the clanking of chained slaves cleaning the floors and the tinkling of the brass utensils spraying rose water as the royal guests passed through. I wondered how many had suffered for the luxurious buildings. How much sweat and blood did it take to encrypt arrogance on the ruddy faces of royalty?
“Mom let’s try if these walls work”
I heard my daughter and realised that I had missed on the information our guide was giving about the whispering walls of the main room.
“Can you hear me?”
“Yes Zuzu, I can. Can you?”
I whispered back.
“Yes mom. Loud and clear! Let’s ask the wall to talk to us.”
I could not tell a little girl that if these walls could whisper, what stories would they be telling. Would it be stories of blinding shimmer and glimmer of jewels, or of the desires enslaved in the corsets of those who wore them? The tales of war-time violence or the romantic associations in the days of peace?
I felt suffocated and left the group to find the stairs to the rooftop. It was a temporary staircase that spiralled rather awkwardly to the top. As I reached the last step, I found myself standing on a newly-put tiled surface interrupted by coal-tar covered domes. Some of the domes had a few remains of stained glass windows that barely preserved the archaic features of the re-laid roof. As I sat on one of the domes watching the declining daylight cast shadows upon the Walled City, I wondered how many generations had passed, how many centuries had gone by? Has the mankind evolved beyond the desire for acquiring wealth, equating luxury with grace, justifying tragedy for triumph that has been its bane?
History always tells us: “He came, he saw, he conquered.”
Little do we remember that he killed, he enslaved, he acquired, he lived in luxury and he died in vain.
F Shereen, MD, is a Missouri-based physician, currently living and practicing rheumatology in the USA. She tweets as @FShirinMD
Published in The Express Tribune, March 13th, 2016.