The road much travelled

23 miles from Agra lay Fatehpur Sikri. In the 16th century the entire road was lined with shops selling silk, jewels.

After Delhi, Mr Abidi traveled to Agra. Although Agra’s primary claim to fame is the Taj Mahal, Mr Abidi put off visiting it until he had acquainted himself with the city’s narrow streets, inimitable rickshaw wallahs and colourful residents. When he finally reached the Taj, Mr Abidi was struck by how familiar and yet how distant and sorrowful it seemed, almost as though it was mourning a lost love. Built by Shah Jahan in memory of his beloved wife, Mumtaz Mahal, the Taj had withstood not only time, but also enemy armies, dacoits and the neglect of the populace. In fact, the decline of the Taj had only been stemmed by Lord Curzon: he installed a chandelier at Shah Jahan’s grave (also within the Taj, but not part of Shah Jahan’s original plans and therefore almost a blot on its architecture) and filled in with colour the cavities which had once held jewels. Mr Abidi felt the sorrow of the Taj echoed in Agra Fort from where the imprisoned and dying Shah Jahan had forlornly watched the Taj through a crevice-like window and, perhaps, reminisced on the ebb and flow of his fortunes.

At a distance of 23 miles from Agra lay Fatehpur Sikri, the city Akbar had built and populated. In the 16^th century, the entire distance between the two cities had been lined with shops selling silks and jewels and thronged by noblemen in their carriages, seeking their wares. Although the road itself had lost its splendour, Fatehpur Sikri still seemed alive with the spirits of its inhabitants — Mr Abidi felt as though he would turn a corner and find young girls playing hide and seek, and Jodha Bai, Akbar’s Rajput wife and Jahangir’s mother, would soon emerge to water her tulsi plant. In the centre of the emperor’s courtyard, Mr Abidi also saw the much-revered shrine of Hazrat Salim Chishti, Akbar’s Pir, whom he had asked to pray for a son. When the son was born, Akbar had named him Salim and the same Salim is remembered in history as Jahangir. In sharp contrast with the aliveness of these buildings was the atmosphere at Akbar’s own grave. Located in Sikandra, some 15 miles from Agra, the grave seemed desolate, almost abandoned.

From Agra, Mr Abidi took a train to Kanpur or Cawnpur as it was known during the Raj when it was an important British garrison. Legend has it that during the War of 1857, the Maratha leader, Nana Sahib, had laid siege to British fortifications for 22 days. The British had finally surrendered upon an assurance that they would be allowed safe passage to Allahabad. However, just as they were about to leave, someone fired a shot and violence ensued, killing many British soldiers. Nearly 200 British women and children whose lives had been spared, were brought to a building called ‘Bibighar’ and later slaughtered. The Kanpur Massacre not only provided the British justification for subsequent vengeance but also became romanticised in novels based in the era. Today, the site is commemorated by Kanpur Memorial Church built in 1862 and known initially as All Soul’s Church.

Although Kanpur’s residents in 1985 bore little overt resemblance to their passionate forbears, they seemed to have inherited their spirit of patriotism. During his brief stay there, Mr Abidi chanced upon a symposium on ‘National Unity’ and was struck and impressed by the outspokenness and national sensibilities of the speakers, irrespective of whether they were Hindu, Muslim or Sikh. Another proof of unity was evident in his visit to the Hasrat Mohani Charitable Hospital. Located in a poor community of Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs and Christians, and run entirely on donations of its members, the hospital endeavoured to provide care and relief to nearly 200 patients daily regardless of religion, colour, caste or creed and served as a reminder of the impossible becoming a living reality with dedication, determination and hard work.

Published in The Express Tribune, December 14^th, 2011.